diary of an evacuee

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My name is Natile, I am going to be evacuated because of this horrible war. I am looking forward to getting to know a new family.. I am also really nervous. What if they don't like me. What if I don't get chosen what if someone in my family dies. They say that London is too dangerous yet they are still there. Still at risk of a bomb falling on them and destroying our home and family. I have been told time and time again not to worry. However that's the only thing that I can do.

Packing up. Packing was very hard as I had never been to the countryside before and I don't have anything very appropriate. I packed three of my favourite books. My favourite toy. Many pairs of clothing, some letter writing equipment and a photo of us all together. It was very hard to decide what to bring as I didn't know how long I would be staying, week? Months? Even years. The only thing i knew to pack was my gas mask. This is what the government told us to bring

Vest

Pair of knickers

Petticoat

2 pairs of stockings

6 handkerchiefs

Slip (like a very long vest with shoulder straps)

Blouse

Cardigan

Overcoat or mackintosh Comb 1 pair of Wellington boots Towel Soap Facecloth Toothbrush Boots or shoes Plimsolls Sandwiches Packet of nuts and raisins Dry biscuits Barley sugar (rather than sugar) Apple

Although we had been assured that the point of this was to move to safety. My heart skipped a beat as a saw all of the things I would be leave behind. I never really appreciated how much I love it here until I was about to leave it. My small but cosy bed; bedtimes for years have been in this room. My squeaky floorboards, the ones I avoid on the way for my midnight snacks. The desk, homework completed here, tears shed. My tiny window, how I connect with the outside world. Not much to see here, smoke and people constantly going somewhere. Even at midnight. Rain, pouring out upon every street sparing no one from its destructive presence.

June 23 1940

Saying goodbye

Saying goodbye has to be the hardest part. That feeling in your stomach, you know that something is changing but not what or for how long.

The bus journey there was something i will never forget. Other children crying, mothers crying. Crammed from back to front. My mum was there next to me. She didn't say a word. Just held my hand tight, as if to say everything will be fine. As everywhere I knew disappeared into the horizon.

Train journey

The train journey has got to be one of the hardest parts of this. Children crying screaming everywhere. People throwing up. The stench of the disgusting sandwiches they gave us. We all watched in amazement as all the surroundings we know disappeared and the views of the countryside appeared. For most of us, this was the furthest we had ever travel. We saw the opal blues of the shimmering sea and the emerald green grass we travelled futher and futher and the children kept crying. I just sat there and watched. I was in amazement. How had i lived my whole life and never even left the city. I was finally getting to see the world. Why did it have to by like this. I am finally exploring the world and it has to be like this. On my own, without my parents with all of these strangers. You don't realise how much you miss something until you have to leave. I just want to be at home in my familiar bedroom, small but cosy. Or even at school. With my friends in a classroom learning about something to be tested on it the next lesson. We're given a ten minute warning. Ten minutes time we leave are last connection to our homes, our family's. Oh i really wish we were back. Anyway wish me luck.

Arriving at the hall

We arrive at the village hall. It was a long walk to get here and the little kids are complaining. We sit down on the long benches. We get are told to wait until a family gets here. Oh i see how it is. Its like picking teams at school, but with children. Nobody is ever going to pick me. I see how it is. The older children left behind the younger ones picked by women in search for a child to look after. I'm not the most fit either. They might want an older boy to help out on a farm but an older girl. What is the use In me? Pealing potatoes?

Picking children

I was right. As parents start to flood in it's obvious who's the favourites. The older boys go first. The ones with the most muscle walk off looking smug. Next goes the children who can pull the cutest faces. The ones who look the most sweet but will probably turn out be naughty. As each person left my hope of getting chosen got smaller and smaller. Why would anybody want me. You can hardly blame them. I hoped that if they left me long enough they would put me right on the train back home.

Getting picked.

Eventually though as the last parents came in and more parents left and as it got the last few the chances of me getting picked grew higher and higher. Thankfully a lovely looking couple walked in. They introduced themselves as Susan and James and offered to take two of us. They picked one of the remaining younger children, Peter and took me and another teenager Matilda. Probably because we were looking so desperate. We said goodbye to our last connection to home life and started walking home. They apologised about the long walk but to be honest, just going somewhere felt like a relief.

We arrived at our new home and we were showed to two a spare room. Matilda and I were together because we were similar in age and Gender and Peter had to share with Susan and James because he is to young to look after himself and the don't want him to be homesick.

It was a cosy room with a window that flooded it with light. It couldn't be a more diffrent view. The crowded streets were replaced with cows, chickens and land stretching for miles with no buildings in sight. We chose our beds. There was one large bunkbed with storage containers for our belongings. They had made such an effort for us. A clean set of clothes on the bed for us, there were even some books. However, these would probably be more suitable for peter. Anyway it was the thought that counts. The house was similar to a barn and our room must have been in the loft. We had beams surrounding us but it made the room feel sweet.

First night

Susan came and told us that we had an hour until supper was ready. I was starving, having not eaten since the morning. We started to unpack and divide the space equally. We each got two storage containers and my possessions fitted perfectly. It felt nice at least having a few personal items in this unfamiliar location. We put our toothbrushes and flannels in the bathroom and our gas marks by the door "in case of emergency's." before we new it, supper was being placed on the table. We tried it, it was good. Not sure what meat was in it, certainly hadn't had it before. We made polite conversation, i really like Matilda, she knows what I'm going through and it feels good to be with someone my age. As i suspected Peter is a little bit naughty, i suspect he's just homesick.

When we got into bed we started talking. Martha seems really nice and we get along instantly.

First day

The first day we have to go to school. We are a random mix of lots of different schools. Some from mine some from others they haven't put us with people from our school though. We get told that we will begin work at the village school today. We have a swift breakfast of fresh eggs and orange juice before being given directions to school and setting of. We meet up with our classmates and we make some new friends. Then we get told to get in a line and lessons begin. We have an assembly about how we have to respect our time here especially as it's not our school. What do they think these Londoners are. 

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⏰ Last updated: Mar 17, 2021 ⏰

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