After rehersals in August 1939, the order to evacuate London's children
was given on September 1, 1939.
More than a million children were evacuated that day from all major
industrial cities without a single casualty.
On that day I joined my y
ounger brother's school for the journey. I
went to a different school, but older brothers had to go with their
younger siblings.
My brother was 10 and I was 12. We assembled at Maynard Road School,
Walthamstow and walked to our local rail station in crocodile file, all
of us labelled, carrying our gas masks with our rucksacks or cases.
We were directed on to a train.
Our parents were forbidden from being at the station to say goodbye
on our deperture, which was scheduled to take place between 8.30am
and 9pm.
The journey to our unknown destination took seven hours, before we
arrived at Oakham. There we were put on a bus, arriving sometime
later in Empingham.
In the Audit Hall we were picked by the villagers. My brother and I
were not chosen at first.
We were taken in for the night by the wife of a soldier.
The following morning my brother and I were taken to the local
gamekeeper's house (now under Rutland Water).
This was a boy's dream and we were able to roam the estate,
learning country ways.
Our daily walk to school was judged too far at nearly three miles,
so – much against our wishes – we were taken to and collected at
Quarry Farm in Empingham village.
This, again, was paradise. We milked the cows, made butter, collected
eggs, and I did the milk round, measuring milk by the gill
into people's milk jugs.
The third move was to converted stables to be billeted there with a
teacher, Mr Bates.
This accommodation consisted of a classroom with dormitory beds for
us boys and a bedroom for the teacher, plus a kitchen run by Mr
Bates' wife.
All too soon my school claimed me as my brother had returned to
Walthamstow, ill.
I left Empingham after six months for Luton. I am still in contact with
a life-long inhabitant of Empingham, Mrs Brenda Williamson, plus
a fellow evacuee Lilian Decker, now Mrs Lawrence.
Lilian returns frequently to Empingham, although I made the journey
only once.
What I will not forget is the kindness of the villagers of Empingham
to us children. Some of us were very homesick. The youngest were only
five or six years of age. We boys
mostly regarded the evacuation as a
great adventure.
Little did we know how long the war would be and in 1944 at the age
of 17 I enlisted in the army.
From being an evacuee to a soldier was such a brief time.
Never will I forget the experience of being an evacuee, but I was
blessed by being billeted in Empingham.
Donald Challen, Braintree, Essex
