First Prize winner
For three years we were really unhappy. Removed from our parents and siblings was like being abandoned and punished, but not knowing why. I still have nightmares. Little boys drowning, including mine. Lots of children were evacuated. Not all children can adapt. Some are damaged.
Letter
Joyce aged 9 and a half
Dear Mam and Dad,
We got here in the dark. The blackout lights on the train were very dim, so no one saw me cry. Bobby and me sleep in the little back bedroom. It’s warm and cosy. I like school but not Miss Morris. She pokes the top of my arm with her stub finger if I say the wrong answer. I sit next to Barbara. She’s posh and her Dad owns Woolworths. She’s Mary at Christmas. I’m an angel. Her Mum is making the costumes. Bobby doesn’t like school. They talk Welsh and he’s shy. I wish he could come to my school but he’s too little. The kids at my school live with their Mums and Dads. No one got sent away. We go to the library. Bobby likes the ships in glass cases.
He wets the bed now. Nain shouts at him in Welsh. She shouts a lot. She gets the birch rod from under the stairs. But she never hits him. I sing to him in bed when he cries for you. We are saving our pocket money for train tickets to run away. We went to the rock fair on Anglesea, across the Menai Bridge. Bobby was scared it would break, so I gave him a piggy back. We got a bar of rock. My friend Evelyn lives by us. She’s from Liverpool. But her Mum is with her. Little Michael we play with on Saturdays, went to the beach on his own and got drowned. I was coming out of school. I walked behind the policeman who carried him home. His Dad is a prisoner. His Mum’s got no one now. We are very sad. Lots of BBC people live here by us. London is getting bombed. We went to see I.T.M.A. Arthur Askey spoilt my autograph book. He wrote Julius Ceasar. I don’t like him anymore.
We go to chapel three times on Sunday. We don’t understand but we have to learn verses. It’s very hard.
When Nain took us home for the day, it was lovely, she said if we cried, we couldn’t come home again. We had to tell you we are happy, but it’s not true. When the bombers go over us, Bobby and me ask God to let them get shot down before they reach Liverpool. Is the war nearly over. If the docks are still being bombed, tell Dad not to go to work. Pearl and Pauline’s house got bombed, but their Mum is here with them.
Bobby said, tell Father Christmas where we are. He wants a fort and soldiers. I want a siren suit. But most of all, we want to come home. This will be our first Christmas away from you. We promise not to cry. If you miss us, bring us home.
Love and kisses from
Joyce and Bobby
