World War II
Evacuees.
I will try and develop this page as I get stories & photographs sent to
me.
First here is a list of children who stayed in
Caernarfon some in Caer Menai Hostel
and some with families
[Names Supplied by Sylvia James]
There were many who stayed in our street Pool Side Square also Pool Side and
Pool Hill. There are some in this photograph
HERE
Frederick Airey | Kenneth Daught | James Hoban | Brian Olding |
Douglas Alexander | Kenneth Davies | David Hopla | Robert Edwin Owen |
Robert Alexander | Doreen Falshaw | Joseph Johnson | John J Pullen |
Brenda Barnes | Daphne Fazakerley | Barbara Jones | Sheila Stanton |
John Stewart Best | Jean Foreman | Olive Jones | Betty Walker |
Ronald Bimpton | Edna May Fremaux | George Kernot | Alfred Wallis |
Raymond Blanks | Geoffrey Hammond | Peter William Lack | Gordon Whitehead |
Arthur Camyas | Henry Leonard Harle | John Leatherbarrow | Kenneth Williams |
Marlin Casey | Ann Harrison/ | Lynne Livesey | Robin Woodland |
Peter Casey | Doreen Mary Harper | David Edward Maylor | Ronald Wrigley |
Peter John Coates | Eileen Hoban | John Mullin |
A letter from Doreen -- Liverpool
Hello everyone
Can anybody help with photos of Liverpool evacuees who stayed in
Caer
Menai Hostel now the Caer Menai Boarding House. My husband was
there for
a few years. His name is George Naylor and was with the children
from the Everton district of Liverpool
We have been back but would love a photo of any sort.
One of the ladies who cared for the children was a nurse called
Gracie. Does it
ring any bells?
Thank You
Doreen Naylor
DOREEN357@aol.com
A letter from David Smith -- Melbourne
Letter 1 from the BBC Archives
On the run
Eileen May Moore (nee Brown) Ruth Williams
(nee Black)
By the time the tram arrived at Lime Street Station most of the kids in our group had eaten the goodies supplied by our Heywood Street, Everton, school. This led to disastrous consequences whilst on the train journey in that our teacher had to produce a private piece of her luggage, a chamber pot, or in our terms a “po”, and a sickly smell pervaded our carriage for the length of the journey. We had suddenly become evacuees.
We arrived to confusion, completely disorientated
and to many cries for “MUM”. We couldn’t understand the strange accents around
us and on entering a church hall were told to sit on a bare wooden floor. We
were inspected by many strange ladies and selected. That is all but three. The
three consisted of my little sister Ethel aged five, my friend Ruth Black aged
nine and I was also nine. I had been told by my Mum to look after Ethel. Ruth
and I were inseparable and none of the ladies were inclined to accept three
grubby, tired and fractious kids from Liverpool. A compromise was reached, Ethel
and I (my name was Eileen Brown) in one home and my friend Ruth next door.
Ethel and I were bathed and fed and put to bed in separate rooms (for the first
time in our lives). I cried myself to sleep.
The lady of the house was very kind but we couldn’t understand a word she said.
I discovered later that we were in a little village in Wales call
Waenfawr and next morning we attended Chapel for the first in our lives. It was
all very strange and we wanted to go home to our Mum. Dad was away in the Army
and it was early 1940.
After three weeks Ethel had settled in very nicely but Ruth and I decided we
were fed up with Wales so we’d run away and go home. After school a few days
later we boarded a bus to Caernarfon and stayed on board to the terminus.
Entered the café and had a drink. Our money was disappearing fast and we had no
idea where the Railway Station was or the cost of the journey to Liverpool.
A man calling himself Captain Jack sat at our table. He was very friendly and
bought us a bun. It was now about 10pm. We were transported back to Waenfawr and
so ended our big escape.
That week end to my delight our Mum and Dad, Mrs Black and Uncle Leslie appeared
in the village, such joy! Our host provided tea and cakes and later the
family prepared to leave. I stood in the front of the door with my arms
outstretched and yelled “You are not leaving without me, I don’t care if I do
get bombed”. I think our parents missed us too. Our clothes were hastily packed
and we were bundled into Uncle Leslie’s four-seated car and we drove home to our
beloved Liverpool.
When we got home we were delighted to be able to go to the pictures and we saw
The Wizard of Oz, and we were able to produce our own show in the air raid
shelter.
‘This story was submitted to the People’s War site by BBC Radio Merseyside’s
People’s War team on behalf of the author and has been added to the site with
his/ her permission. The author fully understands the site’s terms and
conditions.’
Letter 2 from BBC Archives
Chickens and War
Eve Cameron and Marjorie (my sister)
Location of story: Wavertree, Liverpool and Bethel, Caernarfon
I lived with my Mum, sister and brothers in Wavertree, Liverpool. On September
3rd 1939 I was evacuated to Caernarfonshire, Wales, along with Marjorie, my
older brother Eric, and all of the pupils at Earle Road School. We went by
train, and were taken to the Bethel Village School for ‘selection’. I was 9
years old, and Marjorie was 6, and a farmer and his wife who had no children
picked us. We looked on it as an adventure. We loved the animals although we
found them strange, having lived in a city. Marjorie and I were there for five
years.
There was an Italian Prisoner of War working on the farm, his name was Pietro
Antonuchi. Pietro spoke English so we had no trouble understanding him. Like all
POW’s he had to wear a uniform, which had a Big Diamond on the back. I remember
he tried to teach me how to ride a bike, which I just about managed, but I have
never ridden a bike since!
I used to collect the hens at night, usually from the trees where they were
perched, and put them in the hen house. I remember one hen, which must have been
broody, sat on ducks eggs till they hatched — we had to carry the ducklings to
the water! One of the worst things on the farm was seeing chickens being killed,
it may be that which put me off chicken for good. Funnily enough, Marjorie never
eats chicken either.
Mum probably visited about once every 6 months, she was a nurse, and strangely
enough went to Anglesey and looked after evacuees in a vicarage!
‘This story was submitted to the People’s War site by BBC Radio Merseyside’s
People’s War team on behalf of the author and has been added to the site with
his/ her permission. The author fully understands the site’s terms and
conditions.’
Letter 3 from BBC Archives
It was always 'Red'
Lipstick...
Margaret Chamberlain
Location of story: Caernarfon, North Wales
I was evacuated from Liverpool,
with my Mother and Brother in 1939 when the war broke out to live with my
Grandparents in Caernarfon in North Wales; lucky for us that we did because our
house was bombed and flattened. Father had to stay in Liverpool as he was a
chemist and so many had to stay to keep the prescriptions and the drugs running.
The only part of the war I remember is looking up and seeing two planes fighting
in the sky. Mother threw us under the table but I peeped out and saw one coming
down in flames.
Other than that we had quite an uneventful time in Caernarfon apart from the
shortages — not having sweets and not having fruit. I remember not having an
orange or a banana for about six years!
I also used to wonder why my Mother used to always wear red lipstick but it was
obviously because there wasn’t any alternative in the shops because the
factories had gone and been taken over.
This story was submitted to the People’s War site by Becky Barugh of the BBC
Radio Shropshire CSV Action Desk on behalf of Margaret Chamberlain and has been
added to the site with her permission. Mrs Chamberlain fully understands the
site's terms and conditions.