BOOK EXCERPT:

"Silver Pigs"

There was an air of anticipation in our house, but it was not clear to my sister Shirley and me exactly what was going on. The first indication of something out of the ordinary occurred during a walk with our parents one evening after tea. It was the middle of August 1939 when I was six and Shirley was four. The walk took us to a field about half a mile from home where a crowd of people had gathered to look at curious objects suspended in the air. My impression was that they looked like silver pigs. They were secured by wire cable fastened to winches. The police and officials from the local authority were there to answer questions from the sombre crowd, and explained that the objects were barrage balloons, which would prevent low~flying enemy planes from dropping their bombs with any accuracy. Our parents were talking to each other in low serious tones but we did not hear properly nor did we understand their conversation.

Evacuation Preparation

A few days later, our Auntie Noll came to the house and measured Shirley and me for new clothes. She made each of us a clover coloured wool coat and a drawstring waterproof bag to hold a change of clothing, towel and toothbrush. The pattern looked like the lino on our parents' bedroom floor.

"Who would like to look after these two little girls, Ella and Shirley Muir?" This question was asked to a class of older children one evening at our local school in Arnold Road. Two pretty girls raised their hands and said they would gladly perform this duty. We soon came to know them as Connie and Winnie Ransome, and they were to become firm friends for a while and our guardians on a journey to where we knew not. The gathering at school was to discuss the evacuation of children from the industrial area of Dagenham to a secret place of safety during the war. I cannot recall what we were told by our parents about the forthcoming departure, or what our reaction had been.

The First Three Days

On Friday, 1 st September 1939 very early in the morning, children gathered at the dockside of Chequers Lane, Dagenham. With them were their parents to·see that they safely boarded the large paddle steamers anchored in readiness for the great exodus.

Our mother had emphasized that we should take great care of the gas masks which we carried in brown cardboard boxes held by string and placed over our shoulders.

Shirley and I said farewell to our parents, not a bit fearful or sad. In fact we were quite looking forward to the experience of sailing on the 'large ship' called "The Golden Eagle". I was quite convinced we were on our way to America, and perhaps would see the little girl film star, Shirley Temple. "The Golden Eagle" was in fact a paddle steamer used for summer pleasure at Southend. With other similar vessels it was also used to bring home the troops (British Expeditionary Force) from France in 1940.

A voice came booming over a loudspeaker: "Anyone found climbing the rails of the ship will be put in the captain's cabin for the duration of the journey." Such words were alarming and no such thoughts of misbehaving entered my head.

By five o'clock we had reached our destination and disembarked at the quayside at Lowestoft where we were taken by coach to a large school at Oulton Broad, in the county of Suffolk. Here we met up with Connie and Winnie whom, as it happened, we did not see on board the Golden Eagle.

We were guided into a large hall where long tables covered with white tablecloths were laden with bread, cheese and milk. Some of the children grumbled that the cheese was off and the milk sour. Whether there was any truth to this, I don't remember.

The floor of the school hall was covered in straw and this was to be our bed for two nights. Each child was given a blanket and it seemed fun not having to get undressed to go to sleep!

After a breakfast of cereal and 'sour milk', we formed a crocodile line and walked to the park. The weather was fine and a warm breeze blew pleasantly from the river. The park was very inviting with its array of children's amusements. The round~about which small children could sit on was great fun until an older boy turned it like a spinning~wheel and two infants tumbled off. Unfortunately I was one of the victims and received a bump on my knee. I could not contain the tears of sorrow I felt for myself. Mrs. Hussey, a buxom lady and very strict

teacher, who I had always been afraid of, took me in her arms and consoled me, scolding the rough boy for his thoughtlessness. This kind gesture towards me put her in a different light as far as I was concerned, and my fear of her disappeared. The morning ended with a walk back to the school for a roll~call and lunch, then the afternoon was spent in much the same way.

Sunday, 3rd September 1939 commenced a new era in history. War was declared between Great Britain and Germany and this event disrupted the lives of everybody, without exception.

The evacuees, as we were now known, boarded coaches from the local school at Oulton Broad bound for yet another unknown destination. The vehicles arrived outside a small red brick school in the village of Belton, Norfolk. We tumbled out of the coaches and were guided inside. Shirley and I sat quietly at small desks in a very large room divided by a sliding partition. We weren't scared or frightened, but just sat still and waited. Eventually, a lady took each of us by the hand and said "come with me". We were then passed to another lady who was to become a very important person in our lives.

Outside were several small vehicles. The one we were asked to climb into was a bright yellow van; printed on the side in big black letters it said, "J.T.Berry & Son, Bakers." Inside the van were Connie and Winnie and three other children I recognized from school back home.

The van came to a stop in the driveway of "Virginia House", a large residence, and we were taken indoors by the side entrance. Inside, the lean~to extended the length of the house and it was quite wide. It gave the appearance of two houses knocked into one because a step divided the inside of the house. At the side of a wall stood a metal object, which had a spout and handle. It was a pump. We had never seen one before and looked on in amazement as a lady drew water from it for her kettle. The water at home came from a brass tap in the kitchen.

The lady who was taking us into her care told us to call her "Auntie Vic." She took Shirley and me by the hand and after saying goodbye to Connie and Winnie and the others, led us from the house.

We went a short way up the road and came to a gate. As we were rather small we could not see over the top. When opened, a pathway led into a diamond shaped garden full·of wall~flowers, which explained the exotic scent I could smell from the other side of the gate. Auntie Vic took us down the side of the house to the back entrance enclosed by a large wooden fence. The purpose of the fence was to keep out the draught which blew down the passage, no matter what time of year. Once inside we were greeted by Nellie, the dog. She was a white curly~coated mongrel terrier with a brown forehead, which looked and felt just like velvet. We were told to take no notice of her barking, as in time she would get used to us.

The small lobby we first entered was the wash~ house. Behind the door stood a table with an enamel bowl placed on a tray. In the corner was a brick copper with a fire grid underneath it. We then went into a cosy kitchen leading to the middle room. The table was laid for tea. Once seated at the table, Auntie Vic started to cut the bread. A tall man entered the room. We were told this was "Uncle Hubert". (He baked bread for Berry's, the local grocery store). Over tea we revealed that our mother was 99 years of age and Daddy was 98. We were not quite certain what we had said, but the statement caused plenty of laughter.

After tea, we were taken for a walk in the back garden. It was very long and wide. There were four apple trees, all kinds of currant bushes and a greenhouse where Uncle Hubert grew tomatoes and cucumbers. At the very end of the garden was a large chicken run, which took up the width of the garden and was fenced in with wire mesh. There was a shed where food was stored for the chickens and pigs. The pigs were in a sty at the side. Beyond this was a piece of land known as the "Small Common", though it looked very big to me. Later we referred to it as "the Common" because that is where we mostly played. On it grew gorse bushes, which in time, provided marvellous places for concealment in our games of hide~and~seek.

Exploration of our new surroundings now over, it was time to go back indoors and get ready for bed. A bowl of warm water was put on the table and my young sister and I undressed and sat on the table for a good wash.

While three days had been an adventure, all of a sudden somebody was very much missing. "I want my Daddy," sobbed Shirley. She was inconsolable for a few minutes. After words of reassurance, we were taken upstairs to our bedroom where we slept soundly for the first time in three nights in a clean and cosy double bed.

© Copyright Shirley Coombs and Ella Grimmer, 2005 Published by Halo Books 73691 Sawmill Canyon Way Palm Desert, CA 92260 (for U.S.) halobks@yahoo.com (for U.K.) ]ilLLChapman@btopenworld.com. Cover Design: Shirley Coombs Text Design and Typesetting: Diane Hume

Shirley Coombs and Ella Grimmer, who were part of the mass evacuation of children to the English countryside during WWII, have co-written this memoir, Shir-Ella. Now living in Palm Springs with her husband, Shirley is a member of the National League of American Pen Women (NLAPW). Her sister Ella still lives in the family home, and works as a city guide to London.