A Child Of The War
Part One - Blackouts, Evacuees and Dad`s become volunteers
I was just four years of age in September 1939; my parents had moved to Weston Coyney in 1936 and my memories of the years before the war are limited to my early childhood at home, which was number 17, Parkhall Avenue., and my first schooldays. Due to the rapid expansion of Weston Coyney, Caverswall school could not cope with the increased numbers, and therefore Stoke-on-Trent Council agreed to take a small number. As a result, all children living in the Parkhall area were educated at Adderley Green, travelling there and back initially by service bus, and later by a school bus.
I was blissfully unaware of the almost immediate significance that Neville Chamberlain’s announcement on that fateful Sunday morning, the 3rd of September, was to have for me , for the following day the war was to manifest itself on Weston Coyney in the form of a crocodile. Earlier that day, at literally five minutes notice, the parents of the children of Crowcroft Park Junior School, Longsight, Manchester, were told to prepare their offspring for immediate evacuation, and by midday, their train was pulling into Blythe Bridge station. They were then taken by bus to Caverswall and ushered into the Coach House at the Castle. There they received a sandwich lunch and afterwards proceeded to the Church school, which had been closed for the day. No arrangements to house some of them had been made, and by mid-afternoon the aforementioned crocodile of children wound its way down Parkhall Avenue to the astonishment of the residents, preceded by Billeting Officers who had the very difficult task of accommodating them. Just how difficult can be judged by the fact that out of all the houses in Parkhall Road, Avenue, and The Crescent, only two children and one teacher were placed. The two children were a brother and sister, Alan and Nora Garside. My mother took in Alan and Mrs Hey,our near neighbour had Nora. The only other evacuees I can remember were the two Bradford boys, who went to the same house in Caverswall Road. Each child had been given a half pound bar of Cadburys fruit and nut chocolate, an orange and a comic. I was an only child, and whilst this was a new experience for me, it was traumatic for these little strangers from the big city. Our house backed onto fields, and the following morning my new seven year old “brother” wandered to the top of the garden, soon to return shouting that there was a monster looking at him. His first close encounter with a cow!
Alan quickly settled down , and together with all the other evacuees was enrolled at Caverswall School. This must have been quite a feat of accommodation, as the building only had three rooms. Nora could not settle and after a short while, she gathered together her belongings and set off for the railway station at Meir, from whence she travelled via Stoke to London Road Station, Manchester. She was, of course, apprehended at the ticket barrier, and eventually arrived once again on her mother`s doorstep. Quite a journey for a nine year old, but her parents decided she could stay.
Alan,on the other hand stayed with us quite happily for almost three years until all signs of the Manchester blitz had gone. After he returned, he kept in touch for the rest of his life, which sadly was to end at the early age of thirty. That was not to be quite the end of the story, however, for in 1993 I saw in the Sentinel `s “The Way We Were” an article on evacuees, and there looking out at me were Alan and Nora arriving at Caverswall School all those years before. I obtained copies of the photograph, and from old correspondence was able to trace Nora, now married with a grown up family, and take the picture to her. An emotional meeting followed, and I am pleased to say that we now write to each other regularly.
The first few weeks of the war saw the formation of local volunteer organisations “for the defence of the realm”. One of the first to appear in Weston Coyney was the Auxiliary Fire Service (A.F.S.); their “Fire Station” was a small wooden building erected adjacent to what is now the Social Club in Caverswall Road, at the bottom of the garden of what was then the first house . An old Humber car, together with two wheeled pump trailer, was allocated and garaged in the fire station. The father of a friend of mine was in the A.F.S; each man had a uniform, helmet, boots and fire-axe, and practice drills were held. I remember one such drill being held at the top of Park Avenue one Sunday morning, when a small bonfire was put out with a stirrup pump to the amusement of a crowd of villagers. Otherwise, I never heard of the A.F.S. being called into real action. Had the local population been aware of what was being constructed on Parkhall Hills, they would no doubt have called for several proper fire engines! By the middle of the war, the fire service had been disbanded, although the Fire Station remained in situ for many years as a domestic garage.
All street lights had been switched off, and no houses were permitted to show any lights. This was the “blackout”. A few men joined the Air Raid Wardens(A.R.P.) who patrolled the area knocking on doors if the slightest chink of light was showing. They were supplemented by the Special Constables, of whom my father was one. He was assigned to assist the Caverswall police officer, Tom Cumston. This intrepid pair patrolled the Caverswall, Dilhorne, Blythe Bridge area by bicycle, usually from pub to pub. The most prominent service, of course, was The Home Guard. The Weston Coyney and Caverswall platoon were based at the empty Weston Coyney Hall. The hall was completely concealed from the village by bushes, trees and the high orchard wall. This was the ideal playground for local children, but the occupants of the Home Farm together with the Home Guard made it very difficult for us to get near. I remember very well seeing these local heroes in khaki uniform, climbing over our garden fence from the field and running down the drive into the Avenue, usually on Sunday morning “manoeuvres”. One prominent member was a Mr. Pye, as I recall a fairly short and ruddy faced gentleman who lived in Parkhall Road. He had a very large moustache, and we thought that the very sight of him in an angry mood would have been enough to put any German soldier to flight !