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I was 7 when I was evacuated to Buckley with my older brother and we had to sit in a hall. People were picking who they wanted, my brother was picked for a farm in Hope, everyone was picked except me. I sat crying in the middle of the hall on my own. My brother would not go if I wasn’t picked. In the end the Curate from the church took me. I had to go to church three times on a Sunday, raining or not. I was there for 6 months, then I got pneumonia, I remember the ambulance man carrying me downstairs and I remember being sick over his shoulder. I was in hospital 2 weeks, my Mother and Uncle came to take me home, then I ended up in Bershaw with an Aunt and Uncle for 3 years. We went back to see the village last year and nothing has changed.

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