Part II: An evacuees story

Dad (George) age four and brother Fred aged 12

The train journey lasted for most of the day, and both Fred and I were feeling very tired as the train slowed to a stop in Port Isaac Road Station. We left the train and stood on the platform with several other children in an orderly group. A lady in an official capacity armed with a clipboard, called out our names and duly ticked them off as we answered. The group then boarded a coach that would take us into the village itself. The coach came to a halt at the top of the hill above the village and we all got off. I think the building that we’d stopped by was called The Methodist Hall, and this was soon going to be the infant’s school.

The group then followed the lady down into the village, where she would stop at certain houses and ask the occupants if they would be willing to take in one or two evacuees.

The group slowly thinned out to leave just Fred and myself. We found ourselves standing outside number 13 Middle Street and the official lady knocked on the door.

When the door opened there stood Mrs Hancock and the official put the question to her. She smiled and said” Well come on in then, I’ll get you something to eat”. That was the start of five very happy years for me.

One thought on “Part II: An evacuees story

  1. Dean says:

    At only 25 I haven’t an inkling of what it must have been like to have been evacuated. There have been times when the TA have set off the air raid alarms and the sound alone has sent shivers deep into my soul. The German machine knocked down Europe as if but a domino set, and it was our little wet Nation that said no. The men who fought the war and the women who played a large part too are owed every gratitude.

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