| General Fiction posted May 6, 2024 |
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Sert at the beginning of the evacuation period WW2
Train Journey To New Chapters
by Claire Tennant
It was an important day for some children. The British government had decreed that children, young mothers with infants, the disabled, or the vulnerable should be evacuated to safer places in country Scotland, the major cities of Great Britain being easy targets for the enemy to reach. This train heading for a town close to Perthshire had about seventy children, their guardians at the time of travel being strangers hiding their fear by loud, bossy commands or cold stares. This little group was one of many in a world of uncertainty.
Fred Dyson knew in his heart that his grandpa's death would make him vulnerable, irrespective of the war. It was imperative to get folk away from the big cities under threat of Hitler's power. In a sense, with no relatives now to look after him, only Grandpa's neighbour on a short-term basis, it seemed inevitable that he would be one of the children selected for the first groups. Were it peacetime, the option would be an orphanage. Most of the children would have family to return to if Great Britain managed to avoid being obliterated or as near to, just as some European countries were. Fred did not know what the future held; he had learned long ago to take one day at a time.
Armed with his gas mask and a small suitcase containing basic essentials and wearing a tag on his coat indicating his name, date of birth, the city he came from and which school he had been attending, he wanted to distance himself if possible. He was alone, frightened, but stoic.
He sat on the train next to the window, close to tears. He wondered who would look after him. He so wanted a mother figure but could not put that feeling into words at the age of nine. Fred was used to abuse. His father had been an abusive rotter and got his reward in the end. Fred could not get rid of the feeling that the chapter would be revisited in a way. He looked out of the window, seeing what was familiar flash by, his thoughts in a knot. He could hear other children crying bitterly or talking incessantly.
For some, it was an adventure, but for most, it left uncertainty almost like an invisible cloak of foreboding. At their ages, they might know that Jesus would be with them and protect them, but little else. No one could blame them for their feelings of uncertainty. The future was not going to be a picnic; no one trusted the Fuhrer or his kind.
Close to him, there appeared to be siblings: the eldest, a boy, and his two sisters. At least they had each other and, with luck, would not be driven apart because of inadequate accommodation.
Smiling in Fred's direction, the boy yelled over.
"Hello, I'm Patrick. These are my sisters, Mary and Sheila. Would you like to sit with us? You look awfully lonely."
Fred almost declined thinking he would be awful company, then remembered it was a long journey ahead. He nodded, and just as the train stopped for a few moments, he picked up his case and coat and joined them.
"Thank you, I'm Fred."
They talked and laughed, to the disapproval of one of the guardians. It did not stop the foursome. Fred spoke of Glasgow, the others of London. While sleep caught some children unawares, the foursome enjoyed themselves, little knowing the adventures ahead.
Suddenly, the train came to a halt. Two buses awaited them. It was a struggle to get onto the platform, where a group of strangers waited without smiles or kind words and issued commands to stand still while the names were checked and rechecked.
Eventually, Fred, Patrick, Mary and Sheila were given instructions to board the bus in front of them. A shiver of concern ran through each of them. The day was not over they had to grin and bear it.
What they did not know was that this friendship would last a lifetime, full of adventures, tears, and learning curves. There was more of this awful day to face, but at least they had each other.
A train journey writing prompt entry
It was an important day for some children. The British government had decreed that children, young mothers with infants, the disabled, or the vulnerable should be evacuated to safer places in country Scotland, the major cities of Great Britain being easy targets for the enemy to reach. This train heading for a town close to Perthshire had about seventy children, their guardians at the time of travel being strangers hiding their fear by loud, bossy commands or cold stares. This little group was one of many in a world of uncertainty.
Fred Dyson knew in his heart that his grandpa's death would make him vulnerable, irrespective of the war. It was imperative to get folk away from the big cities under threat of Hitler's power. In a sense, with no relatives now to look after him, only Grandpa's neighbour on a short-term basis, it seemed inevitable that he would be one of the children selected for the first groups. Were it peacetime, the option would be an orphanage. Most of the children would have family to return to if Great Britain managed to avoid being obliterated or as near to, just as some European countries were. Fred did not know what the future held; he had learned long ago to take one day at a time.
Armed with his gas mask and a small suitcase containing basic essentials and wearing a tag on his coat indicating his name, date of birth, the city he came from and which school he had been attending, he wanted to distance himself if possible. He was alone, frightened, but stoic.
He sat on the train next to the window, close to tears. He wondered who would look after him. He so wanted a mother figure but could not put that feeling into words at the age of nine. Fred was used to abuse. His father had been an abusive rotter and got his reward in the end. Fred could not get rid of the feeling that the chapter would be revisited in a way. He looked out of the window, seeing what was familiar flash by, his thoughts in a knot. He could hear other children crying bitterly or talking incessantly.
For some, it was an adventure, but for most, it left uncertainty almost like an invisible cloak of foreboding. At their ages, they might know that Jesus would be with them and protect them, but little else. No one could blame them for their feelings of uncertainty. The future was not going to be a picnic; no one trusted the Fuhrer or his kind.
Close to him, there appeared to be siblings: the eldest, a boy, and his two sisters. At least they had each other and, with luck, would not be driven apart because of inadequate accommodation.
Smiling in Fred's direction, the boy yelled over.
"Hello, I'm Patrick. These are my sisters, Mary and Sheila. Would you like to sit with us? You look awfully lonely."
Fred almost declined thinking he would be awful company, then remembered it was a long journey ahead. He nodded, and just as the train stopped for a few moments, he picked up his case and coat and joined them.
"Thank you, I'm Fred."
They talked and laughed, to the disapproval of one of the guardians. It did not stop the foursome. Fred spoke of Glasgow, the others of London. While sleep caught some children unawares, the foursome enjoyed themselves, little knowing the adventures ahead.
Suddenly, the train came to a halt. Two buses awaited them. It was a struggle to get onto the platform, where a group of strangers waited without smiles or kind words and issued commands to stand still while the names were checked and rechecked.
Eventually, Fred, Patrick, Mary and Sheila were given instructions to board the bus in front of them. A shiver of concern ran through each of them. The day was not over they had to grin and bear it.
What they did not know was that this friendship would last a lifetime, full of adventures, tears, and learning curves. There was more of this awful day to face, but at least they had each other.
Fred Dyson knew in his heart that his grandpa's death would make him vulnerable, irrespective of the war. It was imperative to get folk away from the big cities under threat of Hitler's power. In a sense, with no relatives now to look after him, only Grandpa's neighbour on a short-term basis, it seemed inevitable that he would be one of the children selected for the first groups. Were it peacetime, the option would be an orphanage. Most of the children would have family to return to if Great Britain managed to avoid being obliterated or as near to, just as some European countries were. Fred did not know what the future held; he had learned long ago to take one day at a time.
Armed with his gas mask and a small suitcase containing basic essentials and wearing a tag on his coat indicating his name, date of birth, the city he came from and which school he had been attending, he wanted to distance himself if possible. He was alone, frightened, but stoic.
He sat on the train next to the window, close to tears. He wondered who would look after him. He so wanted a mother figure but could not put that feeling into words at the age of nine. Fred was used to abuse. His father had been an abusive rotter and got his reward in the end. Fred could not get rid of the feeling that the chapter would be revisited in a way. He looked out of the window, seeing what was familiar flash by, his thoughts in a knot. He could hear other children crying bitterly or talking incessantly.
For some, it was an adventure, but for most, it left uncertainty almost like an invisible cloak of foreboding. At their ages, they might know that Jesus would be with them and protect them, but little else. No one could blame them for their feelings of uncertainty. The future was not going to be a picnic; no one trusted the Fuhrer or his kind.
Close to him, there appeared to be siblings: the eldest, a boy, and his two sisters. At least they had each other and, with luck, would not be driven apart because of inadequate accommodation.
Smiling in Fred's direction, the boy yelled over.
"Hello, I'm Patrick. These are my sisters, Mary and Sheila. Would you like to sit with us? You look awfully lonely."
Fred almost declined thinking he would be awful company, then remembered it was a long journey ahead. He nodded, and just as the train stopped for a few moments, he picked up his case and coat and joined them.
"Thank you, I'm Fred."
They talked and laughed, to the disapproval of one of the guardians. It did not stop the foursome. Fred spoke of Glasgow, the others of London. While sleep caught some children unawares, the foursome enjoyed themselves, little knowing the adventures ahead.
Suddenly, the train came to a halt. Two buses awaited them. It was a struggle to get onto the platform, where a group of strangers waited without smiles or kind words and issued commands to stand still while the names were checked and rechecked.
Eventually, Fred, Patrick, Mary and Sheila were given instructions to board the bus in front of them. A shiver of concern ran through each of them. The day was not over they had to grin and bear it.
What they did not know was that this friendship would last a lifetime, full of adventures, tears, and learning curves. There was more of this awful day to face, but at least they had each other.
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Writing Prompt Write a story( fiction/ beg/middle/end) about a train journey that took place during World War 2. Set anywhere in the world. 800 words or less. |
My mother was evacuated in WW2, and I have been planning a story based on her experiences. For clarification, not all children were sent overseas, and several country areas, including the Isle of Aran, were considered suitable. Perthshire is used here because no one would know the close suburbs except perhaps Lennoxtown (now a big city), where Scottish entertainer Lulu was born. The description of the luggage and tags is important because it was part of the scheme. Actor John Thaw was ostensibly one of these foster parents in the film Goodnight Mr Tom.
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