Out of the blue we were told that we had to be moved further away from London. Our next destination was Wales. When we were told that we would be going by train we were all very excited. It was our first train journey, but the excitement did not last long as we gradually became more hungry and thirsty and this time we did not have the luxury of a packed lunch. It seemed a long time before the train pulled into a station, and we were told to gather our things together. Outside the railway station a coach was waiting for us. My sister Lil asked where we were going, and we were told that the coach was taking us to a small mining village called Llanharan.
Llanharan was a typical mining village. Everything revolved around the pit, which was situated in the heart of the village. Towering over the village were the slag-heaps, made up of the accumulation of waste from the mine which had built up over many years.
On a windy day you could see and taste the dust in the air from these tips. It was in the mine that the majority of the men earned their living, and what a hard and dangerous job it was. At that time the pits had not been modernized and all the coal was excavated by hand. I can remember my amazement the first time I saw a stream of ‘black’ men emerging from the pit. There was not the luxury of pit-head baths then. When an accident happened at the pit, the siren would go off, then everybody would run to the mine fearing that their loved one was involved.
At the top of the village was quite a big square. On one side there was a row of shops which included a greengrocer, grocery store, chemist, butcher and a hardware shop. As the war progressed, stock became very limited as nearly everything was rationed. It was particularly difficult for the hardware shop to get any stock, because the goods they sold (unlike food and medicines) were not considered a priority. Opposite was a public house, which spread almost over the whole side of the square. A small lane led to the village church. The local bus would stop in the square, though it was not a very frequent service.
The men of the village would sing in the square after they had been to chapel on a Sunday, then people would stand around talking. There was no chance of having a social drink as drinking was banned on a Sunday.
Just opposite the railway station there was a small hotel and also a fish and chip shop. Further along the road was the school, a long low building consisting of four classrooms, a hall, the teachers’ rest room and the headmaster’s room. Outside were two playgrounds, one for the boys and one for the girls. Under no circumstances were we allowed to mix. The lavatories were also outside, two in each playground. The local cemetery was situated at the top of a hill overlooking open countryside and the village. It was only a small field with trees growing at the edge, about half-filled with gravestones. But this same small field would come to mean a lot to my family, for our dear Dad and my sister Anne’s four month old baby Keith, would one day be buried there.
Our new billets were near the mine. I was with my sister Lil, and Mary and Kath were in a house a few doors away from us. The house Lil and I were in was small, just two bedrooms upstairs, two rooms downstairs, a scullery and outside lavatory. Lil said it smelt and the whole place needed a good clean. Mrs Davies, the lady who we would be living with, evidently did not like housework. She spent the best part of the day sitting in front of the fire reading love stories with her skirt above her knees. Over the years her legs had turned a mottled, mauve colour with the heat of the fire. She was quite well-built, with a round face and dark curly hair, and when she spoke it was with a strong lilting Welsh accent. Although she often spoke of her family, I never saw them as they were in the forces or working in the factories. We were treated kindly by her but ,nevertheless, Lil would often complain that our bed needed clean bedclothes, and that we needed a bath, as it was difficult to keep clean with just a jug and basin and a kettle of warm water from the kitchen. But nothing ever improved.
Mr Davies was exempt from the forces as he worked down the mine. Coal was vital to industry and the home, as most people cooked and kept their house warm by coal. He was a quiet man, working long hours down the mine and spending most of his free time singing with the local choir. I will never forget my surprise the first time he arrived home from the pit covered in coal-dust, and proceeded to take off all his clothes and bath in a tin bath in front of the fire. Evidently this was normal in mining villages. Whoever was in the house, visitors or family, the bath would be brought in from the yard and hot water poured in. Mrs Davies would scrub his back while we sat there. At first Lil and I would stare in amazement with our mouths wide open. At home our Dad would never take any clothes off in front of us. He even kept his cap on if he was sitting up in bed. But we soon became used to the nightly routine.
The first day at the village school dawned. I was worried at the thought of starting another school, especially after my experience at the previous one. Lil and I met our sisters Mary and Kath, and made our way to the school. When we arrived we were told to wait inside the assembly hall with the other children. Mr Williams, who was the headmaster, then called all the evacuees to the front of the hall. There was quite a crowd of us, altogether there were about twenty five children. He first made a speech, explaining to the rest of the school how we had left our homes, parents and friends to be away from the dangers of wartime London. Mr Williams then asked us to tell everybody our names and said he hoped we would be happy while we were at his school.
All the teachers were strict and expected the pupils to be well-behaved and quiet. Each morning and afternoon the teachers would take it in turn to call the names of the pupils and mark them off in a register. When you heard your name you had to answer ‘Yes Sir’ or ‘Yes Miss’. If your voice was not loud enough the teacher would throw the heavy register book at you. Many were the times I looked up to see the book sailing through the air, aimed at someone’s head. I soon learnt to call my name out loud and clear. A cane was kept by the side of the teacher’s desk and used frequently for any misbehaviour.
My first teacher was called Miss Davies, no relation to the lady we were living with. She was quite small in build, but what she lacked in height she made up for with her voice; it was so loud it hurt your ears.
What everyone in class feared was when she left her desk and walked up and down the rows of desks. In her hand she held a long ruler which she would rap across your knuckles if she thought you were wasting time. However, I do remember the encouragement and praise we received if she thought any of our work was good. She had a system of different coloured stars, gold being the highest. I remember feeling very envious when the girl sitting next to me was awarded a gold star for her work. The highest I achieved was a silver star.
My sisters and I soon settled into our new school. The children were more friendly towards us and there was no bullying. I made two close friends, Margaret Rose and Gwyneth. They invited me home for tea and shared their precious sweets with me. This was a big treat for me as Mrs Davies kept our ration book and we never received our sweet ration. I believe she gave them to her own family. Sadly, over the years I lost touch with my two friends, which is something I regret.
We had been attending the school for a while when the school nurse paid a visit. She listened to your chest, then asked a few questions about your health. On the table in front of her was a small bowl filled with disinfectant. The nurse dipped a metal comb into the bowl, then combed it through your hair. After she had combed my hair she said I had nits and would have to go to the clinic for treatment. When my sister Lil was told that she had nits as well she became quite angry, saying we had picked them up in the school. On our first visit to the clinic the nurse washed our hair in soft soap and borax, then rubbed in some horrible smelling solution. After this had soaked in, the nurse would keep combing through your hair with a metal comb. My head felt quite sore by the time the treatment was finished, It was not very satisfactory as the nits kept returning. I was nearly seven then, too young to worry about having to go to the clinic, but my sister Lil, who was twelve, found it very embarrassing.
We had been staying with Mrs Davies for some time when our Mum paid us a surprise visit. Lil told Mum about us having to go to the clinic because we had nits. Then I showed her the red bites on my body, which were caused by the bed bugs.
I could see that Mum was getting angry, and when we said we were always hungry and wanted to go home with her she went very quiet. Mum went into the kitchen to see Mrs Davies and we could hear raised voices. When she came back her face was red and angry. “Right,” she said, “Go and get your sisters, you’re all coming home with me.”
I was full of excitement at the thought of going home. While Lil went to fetch Mary and Kath, I helped Mum pack our few belongings. When my sisters arrived we gathered our things together and left the house, leaving a shocked Mrs Davies standing on the doorstep. As we made our way to the railway station I looked back at the village, thinking it would be the last time I would see it.
