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My little brother Ken was fitted for his all enveloping Gas mask in 1939. Brother Roy and I had facial ones which caused much laughter when we exhaled whilst wearing it,as it sounded like "Blowing off" We heard the "War" word quite often after that,but at seven years of age,it had little meaning.Our Church School was just across the road,ten feet away.In 1940 our teachers assembled us to tell us that we were all to be evacuated. It meant nothing.

By June that year Hitler was across the channel,and our soldiers and airmen struggling home from France. Recently wounded men were seen even in the backwater of Vine Square.The south coast was no longer a refuge for London children,we were all going further away.Whereto? No one would tell Mum and Dad until later.It was not compulsory but few refused the opportunity to get their little ones to safer places.
On that day,Roy and I were gathered at the Railway Station,with our teachers bustling here and there.We wore suitable clothing,labelled with our details and carried Gas masks,small suitcases and a bag for food.Still not knowing our destination,we boarded and went on our way,what a lark!
During the journey,we sat in a compartment with others and Miss Marsh,a large red faced teacher,who was somewhat feared. We soon became hungry and keen to find what was in the food parcels.Among the usual sandwiches,was a Mars bar for Roy and I, which Mum knew was one of our favourites. after eating mine, I went to the toilet,on my return, Roy was weeping quietly,he had left his Chocolate on the seat and when he looked for it;Miss Marsh had eaten it,but we were too scared to mention it.
We arrived at Bishops Stortford and were split up. I went with Mrs Chapman,a mother of four,two of whom were still at home.All seemed well until I asked after brother Roy.Until then I had thought we would be placed in the same home,I had promised Mum that I would look after the four year old and keep together.
I made quite a fuss for a seven year old,persisting that we should be housed together.After a few weeks,this was granted,but not satisfactorily,because they placed me with him. His "lady" was not homely and kind like Mrs Chapman,but was a young mother with a babe in arms, who cooked the most awful meals and was a nervy anxious person,forever shouting.I guess my attitude didn't help.
So I complained again!! Finally Mrs Chapman was persuaded to make room for us both. Wonderful.
Life in Scott Rd was great. Mr Chapman (Joe)
was a maltster at the local brewery and had a good kitchen garden,providing lovely new potatos etc that summer.Joe and Lynda had two sons at home,John and Phillip,the four of us got along very well.
Together we played as boys do,visiting a German aircraft which had been shot down and the grave of the pilot.Climbing trees,conkers,etc etc.
Cecil Rhodes had a boyhood home in the local Vicarage of his father.His name meant little at that time,but the memory of a visit to this house,was recalled 50 odd years later,when I saw the Rhodes Memorial in Cape Town.
The London Blitz was at its height,and from a bedroom we could make out the glow from the East End destruction,20 odd miles away.
Mum and Dad with baby Ken,came to visit and found lodgings nearby.Dad was able to work on the construction of a bomber base, which is now Stansted Airport.
By the end of 1940,families including ours,drifted back to the coast,as the fear of invasion receded.Dad collected Roy and I
and we travelled back via Liverpool St Station and Victoria, through a bombed out London.

During the past months,Mum had found another house,with three bedrooms,a garden a bathroom,and a toilet which was indoors!!
There were not enough schoolchildren in Eastbourne to fill the Schools,nor teachers to staff them,so a single School building was opened for all.It was some way from our district,so a bus was laid on to take us for lessons on alternate half days only. Eventually, St Andrews reopened,much to our annoyance,we were now to attend every and all Day.
Our new home was not quite the gift that it at first appeared.A stones throw away was a tall factory type Chimney,which simply dispersed fumes from rubbish disposal. From the air it would have been a tempting target,and so it was.
Six houses next door but one to us had already been bombed before we moved in and we were subjected to several near misses during the next years.The worst of these happened one Monday lunch time.It was a typical home from school meal for Mondays,
Oxo soup and cold beef.Roy spilt some soup and quickly had to remove his trousers.The aircraft boomed overhead as the sirens started,Mum grabbed the baby and under the shelter we dived,pulled up the caged sides,just as a terrific thump and bang shattered the windows,followed by an explosion.The baby was crying,Roy was still trouserless and I did my best to take the mans place in comforting mother.(Dad was by now in the RAF.)
We crawled out of our Steel covering and looked out through broken windows,to see a huge crater about 25yds away in the Playing field opposite.The bomb had bounced in the wet field,gone round a corner and demolished four houses, killing six people. Incredibly,we were then told to go back to School for the afternoon,and as one did in those days,off we went, only to be sent home again by the headmaster.

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