The Shiny Spoon
- The family 1931
- The outbreak of war September 1939
- The evacuation September 1939
- The Blitz
- The second evacuation
- Our move to Devon ( Introduction to Dad's family)
- Life at number 57 St Edmonds Road and then 4 St Edmonds Road.
- The Shiny Spoon
The Shiny Spoon.The Shiny Spoon was a symbol of all our yesterdays, our family's yester year.The story of the spoon started its life during the dark days of the Second World War, no-one knows where it originated from although different members of our large family give differing accounts of how it was obtained and became an important part of our every day living, sadly no-one knows where it finished its well earned life with us, it just seem to disappear at the end of the war however its memory lingers within the family circle of those who shared its being.
So to start at the very beginning is to understand the importance of the Shiny Spoon to us as children, uprooted from our home and father, and living in a strange town among a community that even spoke differently to us accent wise.The family consisted of Mum, Dad, and four daughters, this was in 1939 the outbreak of war. There was of course a large extended family of grandparents and aunts and uncles whom all lived in close proximity to us, typical of the pre-war era in London where we were all born blessed in the church for safe delivery with our mother and all christened.The outbreak of war was to change all this not just for us but for millions of people worldwide, however this is about our family and how it affected us and of course the involvement of shinny spoon later in our lives during the war years.During the period known as the "phoney war" the government decreed that all young children of a certain age were to be evacuated to the safety of the countryside away from the dangers of the cities, because of the fears of gassing and bombing. We were parcelled up with small suitcases and gas masks around our necks large labels tied to our persons, with our names and destination. Small human parcels separated from our parents and extended families to unknown territory, so we were lucky than a lot of children as we were together three sisters on the journey to Kent.How young, we, innocents of war, our eldest sister Ivy was 8 years old, Pat was 6 years and I was just 3 years of age, the youngest daughter Sheila born 1938 was a babe in arms and stayed at home with our parents. Mother had instructed Ivy to look after us little ones and not to let the family be split up. What a responsibility for a mere 8 year old, but Ivy took her charge of the small sisters
seriously and not only insisted to the billeting officer that Mother stated that we must stay together but refused to budge until Mother's instructions were carried out. Time passed slowly in that small church hall somewhere in Kent, as families were unable to house 3 very young children until finally a very patient billeting officer managed late at night to find 3 families living next door to each other willing to house 3 very tired young evacuees. This was the beginning of how our status changed, because we now had another label that of evacuees that was to stay with us for the next 5 years of the war.
The government of the day decided that certain members of the population should be evacuated to relative safety outside the big cities and towns. Children above all, were thought to need protection. No one was compelled to go but the authorities offered plenty of encouragement and in the month of September 1939, there was an exodus of children, the official evacuees numbered about one million. The mass evacuation took place during the period of the "phoney war" of the children to the rural areas, it has been recorded that there was an unreal quietness in the street of houses of towns and cities, akin to the fable of the Pied Piper of Hamelin.
Evacuees were billeted on people who had spare room. The children were not always welcome as one expected and indeed there was alarming discrimination by some of the host families in the rural areas. On arrival there were "pick your evacuee cessions" host families haggled over the most presentable children, whilst sicklier and unclean children were left to last. Larger family groups who wished to stay together were also left to last. So, true was this in the situation where we choose to stay as a family, a luxury not afforded to us and we too was left to last.
The plight of the young evacuees during the "phoney war" has never been addressed officially, we were uprooted from loving parents, siblings, extended family and our roots. The host families accused the "townie" children of thieving , swearing, bed-wetting and general smelliness; they filled a number of complaints. The children had come in disproportionate numbers from the slums and back streets of Britain's large towns and cities. However, the majority of the evacuees were labelled under the category of "those evacuees" and sadly we the children didn't ask for refuge from the terrors of war. On the contrary we were chosen by the government " to be protected". in fact it was the Third Reich that was aiming to invade the territory of the population.
It is rather alarming that even today in this 21st century, years since the war ended, that the peer group of our day still think of the plight of the evacuees as something that their families had to endure. They were labelled as a generation of unclean children with poor hygiene habits, whom deliberately set out to infest the rural population head lice-scabies-impetigo, and not forgetting wet-beds and bad language. It is not surprising that the city-bred children soon became homesick and disorientated. The majority trickled back to their homes and families. When no bombs fell during the period of the "phoney war" there appear to be no justification for the mass exodus, but this calm was soon broken by the Blitz, the lull was over by 1941 and the worse about to begin.
Some children later remembered their experiences with fondness, and for some it changed their lives forever, but generally the whole episode was a failure. Even country districts suffered. The county of Kent, south east capital of the capital, was known as "bomb alley" because it lay on the flight path to London. When Mum visited our host families she was informed of the danger on their doorstep. " That's it", stated Mother" you are all coming back home to Lewisham" we were delighted to be going home and into the loving arms of our Dad and grandparents. Our sister Pat said :" I think that lady wanted us to go back to London" her host family had caught Pat dancing on their whitewashed copper in the outhouse.
So, we all trouped back to London and the Blitz. The summer of 1944 brought the heavy Bombing and for 56 nights, London was bombed from dawn to dusk. The population of other great ports and cities knew similar terrors, every-day life was violently disrupted, and all were united to help out neighbours with cups of tea and words of comfort. But how the population suffered, on Saturday 7th September 1941 nearly 2000 people were killed or injured in London alone. People who remember the Blitz talk about the harrowing experience of shrapnel dancing off the cobbles. The Thames aglow with blazing barges and flames reflected from the wharves, their whole world turned into a red glow from the burning fires.
As the Surrey Docks burnt, brave men such as our granddad and uncles continued to work, building ships for the war effort. Fire fighters worked day and on through the night to dampen the fires and rescue the trapped people. The skies above throbbed with the whines of ennemy aircraft, young airman barely out of school engaged in dogfights. People, who lived these horrific times, would have their own stories to tell, their memoirs of their experiences of wartime in our country.
So, once again Mother was advised to evacuate to the safety of the country. But this time she was staying with us on our return visit to Kent. The second experience of our evacuation from London proved to be quite an experience, personally I remember very little of it, I was still very young, a toddler of four years old, our mother was only 29 years of age, and had gone through so much already. She had endured separation from her three young children and now to put them once again in a place of safety she had to leave her husband and her parents in the jaws of the ennemy in London. At any time our Dad could be called up for military service, life was very hard in those grim days at the beginning of the terrors of war. The billet we had in a village in Kent was in a very old house, whose owner was a very eccentric recluse named Miss Pankhurst ( no relation to the famous Emily Pankhurst of political fame i.e: Votes for women). Miss Pankhurst had previously been a maidservant to the owners of this house. As the couple were childless she inherited the property and had continued to live in this large haunting house with just her chickens for company, this seclusion was soon to be interrupted by the influx of evacuees from the Towns and Cities. No person was exempt if you had a spare room you had to give them refuge from the bombing.
The move to Devon.
Dad's sister lived in Torquay, she and her husband had been evacuated there in 1940. Aunt Keziah wrote to our Dad suggesting that we all went to Torquay, to billet with her and uncle Charley. The payment for billeting evacuees was 10 shillings a week, a grand sum in the 40's. Our parents decided to go to Devon with the children and to stay for a while with Dad's sister Aunt Guide ( Kezieth) was our auntie's real name. The decision that Mum and Dad made was very brave as apart from going to Kent to pick hops our mother had never been far from home ( except when we were evacuated to Kent ) our Dad was well travelled, he had spent his youth in the Merchant Navy. He had run away to sea as a teenager when his mother died and had seen the World by the time he married in 1931; it must have been a terrible ordeal for mother taking her children many miles from her home and close family at a time of peril for the whole Nation. Desperate times call for such desperate action.
So once again belongings were packed into bags, gas masks shouldered and off to Paddington Station and into the unknown for our family. I know this all sounds very dramatic but if you think deeply about this one realises the drama of it all. As previously stated our Mother hadn't perhaps even seen the sea before or travelled so far on a train, the decision to leave her Mum, Dad & siblings was terrible for her at this time of war. London was being bombed heavily and she may never see them all again, she and her family were being ( in her own words uprooted) this is how strong she felt about it. Our Mother was just 30 years of age.
On arrival at Paddington our Dad decided to travel with his family to Torquay and see them safely to their destination. Whilst in Torquay I understand a landmine dropped on our home and it was destroyed, so Dad had made the right decision by the grace of God. We arrived at Plainmoor with just the clothes we stood up in, plus a few belongings, we were not officially evacuees but must have looked like refugees fleeing from our roots into the unknown. Our aunt's house was in the centre of Plainmoor in a street called : St Edmond Road, it wasn't a very big home for so many people, but Mum was grateful to feel safe after all of her traumas. Let me introduce you to our Dad's sister and 
her family. Aunt Keziah was one of 8 of our Dad's sisters. She was evecuated to Torquay at the beginning of the war and lived at first with a family in the Westhill area of Torquay. Her husband uncle Charles known as uncle Charley had 6 brothers and 1 sister, their mother was from County Cork, Ireland. At the house lived aunt , uncle and their 5 daughters and 1 son.
57 St Edmonds Road.
Uncle Charley had lost an eye. I'm not sure where? He also suffered from consumption, so between his coughing and his glass eye he seemed to be a strange figure to young children. The glass eye was sometimes kept on the mantle piece ( fascinating) it sometimes followed you around the room. He was however despite his disabilities a kind man. I'm sure that auntie did love him very much.
Our own family shared two bedrooms at the back of the house, the back yard was a forecourt shared by 4 houses and there was communal toilets used by all. Poverty has no boundaries however we felt safe in this little house in Plainmoor.Looking back I think that it was our auntie's kind and generous nature that made you love her. She was a very large lady with voluptuous breasts that seem to also embrace you when she gave you a cuddle. Her laughter was infectious, for as she laughed was with whoops of large decibel sounds that went up and then down. As a child one was mesmerised, awaiting her next breath. Aunty Keziah's laughter made you laugh at the sheer joy of it. Our mother was her friend and confident, she always came to our Mum share her troubles and somehow our Mum gave her strength. Aunty always said that she made her laugh and in those dark days it was difficult for any parent to laugh. Mum and aunty complemented each other and remained good friends throughout their lives. Later when we moved from number 57 to St Pauls Road, aunty used to pop across to Mum for a little chat, and if we were very quiet we would listen in to their talk. One our sister Ivy, was very intent listening to every word; aunt drew breath as mother retired to use the toilet. Well, our Ivy said " Go on aunty Guide", "all hell was let loose" you cheeky little sod" retorted our aunt. Ivy got a clip around her ear so we never heard the last of that story, over the years there would be more to come. Aunt Keziah was beloved by us all and remembered with sweet memories of her kindness.Sometimes we would be sent for a bus ride, Mum used to give us two pence each and say go for a bus ride. What we did was to catch the number 50 bus to the strand for 1 penny and then ride back round the circular route for another ride. The bus conductor was really fed up with us after 10 minutes and glad when we got off. Not once did we think to walk around the strand or something similar, Mum said go for a bus ride and that is literally what we had done. Many days in the long lazy summer holidays we would go on the beach, some beaches were closed off with barbed wire in case of attack from the ennemy, some beaches were used by the military so we were refused access. At times we just didn't have the money to visit out of area places even as far as Paignton.
57 St Edmonds Road.
Soon we had to move from our new home in St Edmonds Road, mainly due to overcrowding and Mum needed her extended family with her. Requests were made and the landlord who owned almost all the property in the street found Mum a house further along the road. The house was N�4 St Edmonds and it wasn't much bigger than N�57 but it would do for more family members. So, mother sent for her two younger sisters ( our aunt Joan and aunt Eileen) . Mother had written to them and said "we have a lovely house, with a staircase going up one way to the bedrooms and a staircase going u
p the other way to the other bedrooms." Well, what she really meant was that in the front parlour inside the cupboard was stairs to the back 2 bedrooms, the staircase to the back 2 bedrooms was through the back room and in the under stairs cupboard. Aunt Joan was a teenager who had just seen the film "Gone with the Wind" and imagined it like the staircase where Scarlet O'Hara said her good byes to Rhet Butler. Can you just image !!!! What a shock she had on arrival at our new home. Joan stated in later years that she had never seen such deprivation as the property that we as evacuees had to endure at the beginning of our time in Torquay. Soon all was well again and it wasn't long before nany ( Harriet) also joined the family, grouped in that small house at N�4 St Edmonds Road. I will tell you that it was nothing like the story "Camomile Lawn" on the TV. At that part of the road where we lived, were large families who had lived there for most of their lives , as their families had before them. Pre-war few residents bought their own homes so it was a landlord's paradise. People lived in slum type of houses without much authority to change their circumstances and of course little income to overcome the poverty that existed in this area, as well as London, hard times were everywhere. The local community had little tolerance towards the Evacuees they resented the "invasion" of "foreigners" on their patch. Every type of infestation / infection was on the blame of these LONDONERS. Our mother was known as the London woman with all those kids, when in fact most of the families residing near had larger families than us. It was just prejudices of something different happening in their small world. We were accused of taking their houses, their jobs, infesting them with lice/impetigo and scabies, in fact had there been an outbreak of leprosy we should have been blamed! In truth, there was ignorance of others needs, but this is life and so it still sadly continues in the world we live in today.
So, what do I remember mainly about my grandmother Harriet, going to the pictures to see mainly James Cagney gangster films, this occurred during my childhood in Torquay and also in London when I was a Student's Nurse. She never lost her love for the cinema and at the New Cross cinema, there was always a live show of nudes before the film. Nan didn't like this. The nudes never moved and you only saw the top half, Nanny used to sit there waiting impatiently for the film to start ( although she may have seen it many times before) she would call the nudes trollops, telling me to close my eyes. Sometimes at the end of the film and after the National anthem, Nanny would try to persuade you to watch the film over again, she was fascinated by the big screen. Her other enjoyment was her true Detective Books, she always had a pile of them down next to her bed, she even read late into the night with the aid of a small night light ( similar to a candle). I think she must have had good eye sight as I never saw her wearing glasses. I always remember Nanny's uniform of cross-over apron and the hair net. Her daily dose of Epson Salts, taken with her first cup of tea in bed, she would put the salts in the saucer and pose with her little finger upright and drink from the saucer, the first mouthful of tea & salts. As a child it was fascinating to watch and as I slept with her as I didn't scratch myself or fidget, so despite laying like one of those statutes all night I always had a birds eye view of her tea drinking habits.
In 1930 the entertainment centred around the local areas. For example, the working classes mainly used the pubs after work, and on special occasions of celebrations. It was important also to entertain indoors. To have a get together as family and sometimes special friends, I am not sure if this culture was more common to Town people, as this is where our roots came from. I think it was because it was easier for town people, as they lived so close to each other, and only the very few had any mode of transport. I have many childhood memoirs of grown-ups melodies with words that had great meaning to them, but of little understanding to me. What was important that as a child you felt the emotions that went into the voice of the singer, and every singer had their own special song to sing. Others present always knew that was Ivy's song or Nandad's special melody.The Shiny Spoon.
The shiny was symbolic of our childhood for the following reasons. When our family arrived in Torquay we had few belongings. A small suitcase and the clothes we stood up in, we were fleeing from the bombs in London. Mother was given information to contact the E.M.U.C. In 1939, just before the start of the Second World War, the misses Madge and Kathleen Whitehead moved to Torquay from London Ref. They formed the local Evacuated Mothers Union Club one of the first of its kind in the country, lucky for our family it was i
n our area. It provided invaluable in helping those who had been evacuated to settle in . When London children started to arrive in large numbers, to escape the Blitz to settle in, these good ladies formed "The Sparrow Club". Mother came home with several items, including cutlery which contained the Shiny spoon. This spoon was put into use every day, as the table was laid, we all took our turn of using the spoon. The brightness of the spoon in those dark days gave us hope of a brighter future and sharing it gave us all an important lesson in life. It symbolized the kindness of others to their fellowman to a family who had lost except their love and respect to each other, such a simple shiny spoon. As a family still surviving life we still ask what happened to our shiny spoon that shared our life during the long war years, and gave us all such hope. NOBODY KNOWS.
To be continued...
Acknowledgements : References : LI Metallic Oblisk publications 1994 Pictorial Torquay. Photo of church in Kent provided by Feuillu under Creative Commons licence via Flickr. Photo of Scarlet O'Hara from the film " Gone with the Wind"
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