World War II: An evacuee’s tale
World War II: An evacuee’s tale
An evacuee’s tale by Pat Manning (née Ridler).
We had been in Poundfield Hall, Green Lane, Jarvis Brook, Sussex since dinner time and the ladies were clearing up. Edna Ely and I had watched all the other children leave for their foster homes and no one wanted us so we hoped that we were going home.
We were evacuees from Haseltine Rd School, Bell Green, Lower Sydenham, SE26. Earlier in the day we had boarded a steam train for an unknown destination and ended up at Jarvis Brook station. We walked in a crocodile from the station down in the valley until we were halfway up the hill to Crowborough when we turned off at Green Lane.
Now it was five o’clock and as we piled into the back of a car and headed back along the lane we couldn’t wait to catch the steam train back to London. On the way we stopped at what seemed to be a church and we were told to knock on the door.
We weren’t going home but were being billeted at the Rest House of Lady Trevor!
Apart from the tiny lady dressed in black with a lacy mantilla over her white hair, there was the tall housekeeper, Miss Hadley and a young woman who was Lady Trevor’s companion. We were taken up the centre staircase to a room immediately above the front door and told that we were NEVER to go to the West wing of the house which was Lady Trevor’s.
Next door to us was the companion (soon to disappear into the land Army), then the sewing maid and opposite the dragon, Miss Hadley. Round in the East wing were the servants, Louisa the parlour maid, Alice the house maid, the little kitchen maid and Cook who was never known by any other name. The chauffeur slept over the stables to complete the household of nine people. That is how I came to have a National registration card of EKPB 102 11 because with Edna slightly older, I was the eleventh in the house.
We ate with the servants. To this day there are many foods that I cannot swallow. I was given a plate piled with liver, carrots, swedes, potatoes and boiled rice when I had the appetite of a sparrow and would have been happy with a sausage and cabbage with gravy. I wrote pathetic letters home and my parents visited leaving a long line of carrier bags full of food (I remember tins of sardines) in the servants’ quarters. Then Lady Trevor came in and was truly horrified at the impression that she was not feeding the evacuees properly. Worse still, when Edna and I went up to our room, we found the floor covered with white sailcloth because my ink bottle had leaked on to the carpet.
Two things fascinated me in this house. In the entrance hall, there was a model garden constructed from mosses of all kinds with a mirror for a pond. Ten years later at Imperial College studying for an Honours degree in Botany I was able to give names to all those mosses, liverworts too. Then every evening, we were invited into the drawing room to listen to the companion playing the grand piano and to play with a wonderful compendium of games fitted into a wooden casket.
Lady Trevor died after Christmas and I was rebilleted with a rose grower, his wife and toddler which really suited me far more but I’ve never forgotten the mysterious Lady who lived in the forbidden West wing with whom I played solitaire.
We had been in Poundfield Hall, Green Lane, Jarvis Brook, Sussex since dinner time and the ladies were clearing up. Edna Ely and I had watched all the other children leave for their foster homes and no one wanted us so we hoped that we were going home.
We were evacuees from Haseltine Rd School, Bell Green, Lower Sydenham, SE26. Earlier in the day we had boarded a steam train for an unknown destination and ended up at Jarvis Brook station. We walked in a crocodile from the station down in the valley until we were halfway up the hill to Crowborough when we turned off at Green Lane.
Now it was five o’clock and as we piled into the back of a car and headed back along the lane we couldn’t wait to catch the steam train back to London. On the way we stopped at what seemed to be a church and we were told to knock on the door.
We weren’t going home but were being billeted at the Rest House of Lady Trevor!
Apart from the tiny lady dressed in black with a lacy mantilla over her white hair, there was the tall housekeeper, Miss Hadley and a young woman who was Lady Trevor’s companion. We were taken up the centre staircase to a room immediately above the front door and told that we were NEVER to go to the West wing of the house which was Lady Trevor’s.
Next door to us was the companion (soon to disappear into the land Army), then the sewing maid and opposite the dragon, Miss Hadley. Round in the East wing were the servants, Louisa the parlour maid, Alice the house maid, the little kitchen maid and Cook who was never known by any other name. The chauffeur slept over the stables to complete the household of nine people. That is how I came to have a National registration card of EKPB 102 11 because with Edna slightly older, I was the eleventh in the house.
We ate with the servants. To this day there are many foods that I cannot swallow. I was given a plate piled with liver, carrots, swedes, potatoes and boiled rice when I had the appetite of a sparrow and would have been happy with a sausage and cabbage with gravy. I wrote pathetic letters home and my parents visited leaving a long line of carrier bags full of food (I remember tins of sardines) in the servants’ quarters. Then Lady Trevor came in and was truly horrified at the impression that she was not feeding the evacuees properly. Worse still, when Edna and I went up to our room, we found the floor covered with white sailcloth because my ink bottle had leaked on to the carpet.
Two things fascinated me in this house. In the entrance hall, there was a model garden constructed from mosses of all kinds with a mirror for a pond. Ten years later at Imperial College studying for an Honours degree in Botany I was able to give names to all those mosses, liverworts too. Then every evening, we were invited into the drawing room to listen to the companion playing the grand piano and to play with a wonderful compendium of games fitted into a wooden casket.
Lady Trevor died after Christmas and I was rebilleted with a rose grower, his wife and toddler which really suited me far more but I’ve never forgotten the mysterious Lady who lived in the forbidden West wing with whom I played solitaire.
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Us Evacuees are getting fewer and fewer so here’s my tale. I was evacuated from Sydenham to Ilfracombe with my Mother in 1944 when I was four years old. We had not gone before apparently because my Mother was not going to let Hitler drive us from our home. Why Ilfracombe was the destination for Evacuees I know not because I understand there was a large detachment of Allied Troops stationed nearby getting ready for the D day landings. Anyway although only four I remember the train journey vividly, as a townie kid I asked my Mum what the strange animals were in the fields, cows and sheep was the reply, well fancy that!Kiwi-girl wrote: awww i nearly cried when you didnt go home.
Love & Hugs
On the odd occasions when my Father could visit us my Mum and Dad would go to the local pub for a drink, I would be left outside with a coke and a packet of crisps ( must have been a lot safer for kids in those days). I soon discovered that passing American GIs enjoyed listening to a little London Boy reciting “Christmas is coming the geese are getting fat, etc.,” and rewarded me with three pence here and sixpence there with phrases like “Oh gee, isn’t he cute”. Cute or not I soon realized that if I put my cap down in front of me while reciting I could earn about 15 shilling in a couple of hours, not bad eh!
Re: World War II: An evacuee’s tale
Hello - I came across this article as I was researching World War II stories based in and around Sydenham for my Year 3 class. I am currently a teacher at Haseltine school and was really interested to read this post from a former pupil! Can you tell me if you are still based in the London area? Would you consider paying us a visit and coming in to talk to our children about this experience? We are also going to be researching the Sangley Road School bombing as part of out topic. Many thanks.
Re: World War II: An evacuee’s tale
Looking at the date Brian wrote the lat post,you may be better off sending a private message (PM) that way he will get it if he still uses the Internet,where if he doesn't still read the Sydenham Forum he won't ( hope that made sense)
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Re: World War II: An evacuee’s tale
hello, is it me you're looking for?
Re: World War II: An evacuee’s tale
Haha, sorry Brian, I wasn't sure you still read the board.
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Re: World War II: An evacuee’s tale
I still enjoy reading all about Sydenham Annie, but its been a long time. I left in 1958 but look back with fond memories and love reading about it now, all the best, brian.
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Hi Brian,brian stimson wrote:Us Evacuees are getting fewer and fewer so here’s my tale. I was evacuated from Sydenham to Ilfracombe with my Mother in 1944 when I was four years old.Kiwi-girl wrote: awww i nearly cried when you didnt go home.
Love & Hugs
I used to live in Ilfracombe during the 1970's and 80's. May family ran the Carlton Hotel. I moved to Sydenham 5 years ago. My my parents next door neighbours in Ilfracombe (Barry and Jeanie) used to live in Sydenham and had a shop opposite the Prince Alfred pub in the parade there. He was always talking about some passageway that ran behind the shops.
Ilfracombe has changed quite a bit in some respects and in others not at all. We started the blog http://www.whatifsydenham.wordpress.com to look at how shops could be improved. We were contacted by the North Devon Journal to do the same about Ilfracombe (http://www.whatifilfracombe.wordpress.com), which was a huge co-incidence! You may be interested in that site too as it has some images of the high street.
Do you have any memories of Fairlawn Park, the high steeets, Home Park or Ilfracombe you would like to share in here Brian? I'd love to hear more.
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Re: World War II: An evacuee’s tale
Hello Lee
I can't remember too much about Ilfracombe or as my Nan used to call it "ill frar cum bee" but we were billeted in Brookfield Place. I seem to remember it was off the Main (High Street?) a covered access in between two shops with biggish nice houses all down the left hand side. If you carried on down Brookfield you could go through a small tunnel out to the shoreline. The pub I stood outside with my lemonaid and crisps was back up Brookfield through the covered access alley into the main street, turn left then it was on the left.
I can't remember too much about Ilfracombe or as my Nan used to call it "ill frar cum bee" but we were billeted in Brookfield Place. I seem to remember it was off the Main (High Street?) a covered access in between two shops with biggish nice houses all down the left hand side. If you carried on down Brookfield you could go through a small tunnel out to the shoreline. The pub I stood outside with my lemonaid and crisps was back up Brookfield through the covered access alley into the main street, turn left then it was on the left.
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- Posts: 50
- Joined: 28 Jun 2008 14:14
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Re: World War II: An evacuee’s tale
Hello Lee
I can't remember too much about Ilfracombe or as my Nan used to call it "ill frar cum bee" but we were billeted in Brookfield Place. I seem to remember it was off the Main (High Street?) a covered access in between two shops with biggish nice houses all down the left hand side. If you carried on down Brookfield you could go through a small tunnel out to the shoreline. The pub I stood outside with my lemonaid and crisps was back up Brookfield through the covered access alley into the main street, turn left then it was on the left.
I can't remember too much about Ilfracombe or as my Nan used to call it "ill frar cum bee" but we were billeted in Brookfield Place. I seem to remember it was off the Main (High Street?) a covered access in between two shops with biggish nice houses all down the left hand side. If you carried on down Brookfield you could go through a small tunnel out to the shoreline. The pub I stood outside with my lemonaid and crisps was back up Brookfield through the covered access alley into the main street, turn left then it was on the left.