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Don McDouall was evacuated from London during World War II when he was five years old. He was sent to the small country village of East Hanney to live with Grans and Grampy at a house called Tamarisk. He now lives in Australia.
Once we had arrived in the village of East Hanney, the Warden, with the help of Mrs Walker (one of the London school teachers) ticked off the names and particulars from a large cardboard list. The list that in turn both the Warden and the teacher hoped, corresponded with the smudged writing on the labels that hung around the necks of the four little boys who were about to be allocated, or billeted, with Mrs Lyford at a house called 'Tamarisk'.
I found myself in the kitchen of the house. Everything was unfamiliar. I wanted so much to go home I wanted my mum. To make matters much worse, this giant of a grownup was staring at me. She scared me to death. So I ran under the table.
The adults could see the front door was open so one blocked the way and shouted 'Stop him, don't let him get out'. I saw a sewing machine in the corner, between the two doors of the unfamiliar kitchen. I didn't know what it was at the time as I had never seen a sewing machine, but it looked a great place to hide.
I quickly scrambled between the treadle and the kitchen wall. I screwed myself up tightly into a ball and shut my eyes hoping this terrible nightmare would disappear. Instead I was poked with a broom handle, which hurt terribly. I felt horribly sick and frightened and then I messed myself and I just froze in terror.
The grownups left me alone and I lay there cold and shivering.
There were four little London kids left in the care of Grans Lyford. All four were boys. I was by far the youngest at five years old. I was a very small boy and even on tiptoes I couldn't see onto Grans kitchen table.
Even when sitting on a plumped up pillow on my chair I could only just see my plate on the table but I couldn't really see what was on it. This fact often caused the plates contents to end up on the floor when I tried to eat off it. Grans was none too happy about that.
Going to the 'lavvy' (Toilet) became a nightmare. I was too small to keep my feet on the ground, so I sort of toppled in back side first. Bucket toilets were rather unkind to small kids who fell in. Grans was very annoyed when I returned covered in others smelly excreta. So I got off to a rather bad start!
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