Margarets Memories

I was born on 6th November 1935 at Elizabeth Garret Anderson hospital, Euston Road London.

When war out I was almost 4 years old and my Mum, Maggie, was 7 months pregnant with my brother, Patrick. We lived in Holloway. when the sirens went off we went to Holloway tube station and spent the night sleeping on the platform. We couldn't settle down to sleep until the last train had gone, otherwise we would have been stepped on. The highlight of the event was a man selling Lyons apple pies. That was our treat.

During the week I stayed with my Aunt Kate and I went home at the weekends. On the 6th November 1940 I was at home, unusually, because I was celebrating my 5th birthday. At Aunt Kate's the sirens went so she, her husband, her sister Liz, Liz's husband and their 2 sons went into the shelter opposite the block of flats where they lived in Georges Road,Holloway. That day there was a direct hit on the shelter they were all killed except Liz's husband and if it had not been my birthday I most likely would not be here now. The flats opposite were still standing, untouched by the bomb.

We lived in Holloway for a while after that then we moved to Burnt Oak, Middlesex for a short time. My Dad couldn't settle as he came from Stepney in the East End so we moved back, to Hackney.

When London was blitzed my brother and I were evacuated to Lancashire. I was 9 and my brother was 5. Our mum worked as a van guard on a van delivering parcels for LMS. On the day we had to go she took us to Kings Cross station with our bags and gas masks. She waved to us as we passed her on the train and we didn't think we would be coming back.

We didn't get off to a good start, my brother got in a scrap with another boy on the train. The other boy was wearing a cap which my brother took off his head and threw it out the window while the train was moving so that was the last we saw of the cap!

On arriving we were all lined up waiting to be placed with someone. All the other children were picked except us two. We were the last two standing there, we felt no one wanted us. Eventually we went off to a house with a couple who had a boy and girl about the sames ages as us. They also had a Collie dog. The first 2 days went okay then the dog bit Patrick because the boy of the house was tormenting it. He blamed my brother however and from then on Patrick was picked on for the least little thing. He and the boy used to fight a lot but my brother was classed as the bad one, his punishment was being put in a cupboard under the stairs.

My Mum used to come and see us and I used to tell her what was happening to my brother. One weekend she turned up, unexpected and saw for herself , she went mad. Our bags were packed and back to London we went.

I would like to say I enjoyed my stay in Lancashire, but I didn't.

After that when the sirens went we had to get under the table in the front room. We lived on the 4th floor in a block of flats. We never went away after that.

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