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Lilias Begg — 26th July, 2005

Q. What age were you when the war started?

A. Eight. I was eight.

Q. And what do you remember? Do you remember anything about the run up to the war? The war being declared on the radio?

A. I do. Well, my mother and father had to sign a form, you know, allowing their child to be evacuated. And we went, there was a train load of us from Glasgow, well, we were dropped off at Buchlyvie, Gargunnock, Arnprior and I was at St. Stephen Boslems (there was a big house in Arnprior and Gargunnock) and that was where so many of us were dropped. And we sat in the train with our gas masks and our wee cases and that was the day before war started. So I was there the day war was declared.

Q. That’s what I remember from watching it on the television, kids getting on a train and then they would just kind of say ‘right, 10 of you get off the train’ and that’s really what it was like?

A. Yes, that’s what it was like. Well, we stopped at the station at Buchlyvie and one teacher came (one of our own teachers) and we were taken to the church hall and we sat round with labels wondering — and I was an only child — and for the first year unfortunately it was an artist’s wife, a Mrs. Struan Robertson. I remember her name, and she wanted the nice, quiet girl so she picked me but I was really a bit out of the village so I was lonely but I loved the village school. We got a week’s holiday the first week of the war, to let us get settled in. We had a week of glorious weather — I do remember that. It was beautiful.

Q. It was the summer, wasn’t it?

A. Yes, it was the beginning of September.

Q. Were you chosen because you were an only child?

A. Well, this lady, like I say she was a widow, and I think she only wanted one because some of them were maybe taken in twos or more.

Q. What else do you remember about the first period of being away from your family?

A. Well, I remember I was miserable because I was an only one. My mother let me go but my father really didn’t keep well and my grandmother lived with him and she just felt that I would be safe, you know. So, all the parents that came out the next day to see — I remember I had this wee room with this wee, single bed and oh, the first week I cried myself to sleep every night but it’s amazing how a child can settle down, it really is. And when we started at school, it was lovely — there were only two rooms. Yes, you know there would be infants up to the middle primary and then the rest. And they were so nice. I mean, this headmaster, Mr. Walker, oh, he …Actually our headmaster’s daughter, she was on her own as well, and the headmaster took her you see, so they used to have me up for tea.

Q. So, how many children were evacuated altogether to Buchlyvie?

A. Well, maybe about 15. You see, there were so many of them — some of their parents went — a boy in our class, his mother went with him and stayed in another house and a lot didn’t last — you know, they wanted home.

Q. Was it somewhere near you that you lived?

A. Glasgow, Pinelands. But being in a town, mind my father was country, I just loved it. I just loved the country, still do.

Q. I know a lot of children said it was too quiet or whatever, but I know you loved it.

A. Yes, I loved it. Looking at birds nests, gathering brambles, I really did love it, you know. Well, apart from missing my family.

Q. How often did you get to see your family?

A. Well, I had one friend, I was one year in this house and then I went up to the village with another girl and there were two boys there, and her father had a car, I think he was a traveller for sweets would you believe? And he used to bring us, nobody could get sweets. I didn’t see them the first first wee while, very often but as the war went on and things were better, I used to go home for the weekend. And the people I lived with for the second two years, they were from farming stock and it was from a farm, but whether it’s still there, Cultenhove, outside Stirling somewhere. And it was their relations that were staying with the two aunts but of course we were on rationing. Well, I don’t know, I lived on air! I used to watch these two eating cheese and I was dying for a bit of cheese and she didn’t cook mince like my mother.

Q. So, what do you remember about rationing?

A. Oh, the butter. You know, even when we came home after the three years, it was two ounce of butter and then we used to cut it, you know, each person had a plate with their wee two ounce of butter. And going to the local butcher in Buchlyvie for, what was it, one and sixpence worth of mince, you know, it was coupons of course. And eggs — I don’t know what we survived on really. We went to the farm mind you, what was it, Whitelees Farm, and got friendly with the girl and I can remember getting milk, hot and new from the cow and I didn’t like this hot milk. But when I went to the church, it’s a strange thing, the minister, Mr. Mortimer, ended up in Houston here at my sister-in-law’s church, that was his last church and I had known him at his first church. It’s a small world, isn’t it? And both buildings were used, there was the north and south, it was week about. This headmaster was wonderful and he had us singing. I’m still in a choir. I sang my first solo in Buchlyvie Church, the first Christmas, I remember that. It was a really happy time.

Q. How often did you get to see your parents? You said when you moved up to the village, you got to see your parents every weekend?

A. No, not until the last year, well, what would I be? Eleven? I used to get away early on the Friday and there was a bus at half past three and I went home and came back again on Sunday. By that time, I think there was only very few of us left. They all went home. And I sat my qualifying exam as they called it then in Buchlyvie and I passed to go to what would have been Balfron High School, you know, but by that time, you know, I came home to really start secondary school at Pineland, you know…. Actually, I was dux of Buchlyvie School. There was another person there and we were always neck and neck, much to the local people’s disgust! Not really, no! Of course they were small classes, the qualifying class only had about twelve in it.

Q. Do you think that it was a better education in Buchlyvie than in Glasgow?

A. Oh yes. I think so. I mean, my first infants class in Pineland, there were 50 of us. You know, when you think nowadays…. And then when I went back to my first year in Pineland, there was eight classes with about thirty in class. You know, I think you do get a better education and, although the headmaster was teaching three groups, he still had time, you know, to speak to you. Whether it was because I was one of the oldest at that time, now, what did he call me? Not the sensor? There was this school bell, and, at the end of it, at the interval, I had the joy of going out and ringing this big bell.

Q. Now, did you ever write to your parents?

A. Oh, yes, yes.

Q. Did you write every week?

A. I wrote, in fact there’s probably a letter somewhere, oh, I know, I wrote … you know, when I look at my granddaughter when she was that age she couldn’t have written, you know, I mean…

Q. Do you really think that you might have some of those letters still?

A. Do you know I might. I thought now my son, I was showing him and you know he asked ‘do you have any photographs from these days?’ but we didn’t. But, funnily, I have two wee photographs from guide camp in Bridge of Allan but I was home by that time. So that wouldn’t count I don’t suppose.

Q. If you did have any of these things, it would be wonderful to save them.

A. Oh yes, it was only two. But you’ve started me off looking for them. This was taken when it was still war time because we had a joint camp from … and we went out to Bridge of Allan. I am trying to remember what year it was. Now what age was I when the war finished? It must have been about 1942, would it be?

Q. What colour were your uniforms?

A. Oh, some had dark navy, we had blue, a sort of denim blue colour. But it was Pendruich Farm we stayed outside Bridge of Allan but I haven’t any school photographs.

Q. So, what date was this, did you say?

A. I would say it was, now let me see, what was I? 1939? I was eight and I was home when I was about twelve, now what would that be? Now, you know, the war was still on. But it wasn’t as evacuees, you know, that was in Glasgow. We joined up with another company from Dennistoun and our company from …

Q. Do you remember them taking school photographs when you were at Buchlyvie?

A. No, you see they didn’t in those days. You know how nowadays they do? Well, it’s a shame.

Q. I know we do have some of Clackmannanshire Schools but you never know, I might ask because that would be quite nice.

A. You know, nowadays, children get photographs all the time. And, you know, I didn’t have a camera. You know, the things that come back to you … the soldiers were training and I came home one day at lunchtime for my lunch and here, in the doorway of the house, was soldiers in their battle dress and all camouflaged. Fright of my life I got that day! And the cooperative was across the road and I remember that Mr. Carmichael was the manager of the cooperative and he was the ARP man when there was an alarm he ran up the village street blowing a whistle — that was his job.

Q. What do you remember about the blackout?

A. Oh yes, it was pitch black but I remember it more when I came home. I think that in the countryside your …. You know. But then, when you are a child you are not out as much. But we had wonderful Halloween parties with Mr. Carmichael from the Co-op. I remember Fran and I dressed up as boys with all the turnips and everything and we went to gather spaggon and moss, that was another thing we used to do for the Red Cross. We went down near the Forth.

Q. What did you use the spaggon and moss for?

A. I think they made bandages or dressings with it. So we had to go down for it. We went to Aberfoyle — it was quite a walk. Well, on the way to Aberfoyle, the Forth, you know.

Q. Tell me more about the Halloween parties. Did you have food or was it more games and things?

A. Yes, well we had food. We had potatoes and turnips from the farm and just games and I remember it was dark going across the road.

Q. Did you make neepie lanterns back then or is that a more modern thing?

A. I don’t think we did you know, again, it wasn’t parents to do it, you know, these people that took us in, it was wonderful and I remember it was six shillings a week my mother had to pay, she had a wee card, you know, and that’s what they got for their evacuees. Six shillings — a bit of a bargain don’t you think!

Q. Did you feel close to the family? Did they look after you or was it like you were a lodger?

A. The first place, when I stayed with the lady who was the artist, she had the top of a house and downstairs was two older ladies and they taught me how to play whist. Eight years old I was and this was me, making up the four. It was very quiet. But then, when I went up to the village, it was two maiden ladies, but yes, they were very nice.

Q. Did you miss home? I know you said you missed home but?

A. Oh yes, I missed home.

Q. Would you have rather have gone home like the other boys and girls?

A. No, you know I think it was a good experience really. It really was. In fact, my daughter says that’s what made me so independent. She thinks of her daughter at eight going away you know from home. I remember when my shoes got wet and they would be drying by the fire and I would put on stiff shoes, you know. But we survived. I don’t know what happened about the washing. You know, the aunts must have done my washing. You know, it was a lot for people, taking in, especially maiden ladies who didn’t know about children. But they were from a big farming family, you know. But the porridge in the morning, I remember it wasn’t made from oatmeal and I remember it was lumpy. They were good bakers but they weren’t good cooks.

Q. What else do you remember eating? What did you have for your lunch?

A. Oh, watery mince! Because it was rationed, a wee drop mince in a lot of water. And soup. She made soup and it was so thick, you could dance on it! Potato soup. Teatime we usually had toast with something but with rationing it was difficult. I don’t really know — I was never one to have a great big appetite so it didn’t really bother me too much, you know. Because cheese was rationed as well, you know, of course. Milk, I loved milk, and I don’t think, being there, there was a shortage of milk. You see, when I came home, it was dreadful. In Glasgow, what was it? A third of a pint of milk per person and I think even in the school in Buchlyvie I think we still got our school milk. That’s right, it was in a wee bottle and you put the straw in the top. And the wee village shop beside the school, sold broken biscuits and I loved them and I used to buy them with my pocket money. Sixpence I think. But then you could buy the wee broken biscuits, they were lovely, they had the wee, salty, savoury ones. And for thruppence you could get a wee bottle of orange, oh and it was lovely lemonade I don’t know whose it was, but for the thruppence it was lovely. And for four pence you could get four caramels, I don’t know if you’ll remember buttermilk dainties — it was big caramels — you could get four of them for a penny. And a bar of Micky Mouse toffee, just a wee strap of toffee, it was only a farthing. When you think of it now! It was a treat.

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