Experiences of one Hawkley Evacuee, namely Harry Withers 1939-1941
There will be other stories and shared experiences entered into our Website, I will therefore endeavour to avoid duplication. Some aspects may be a trifle vague and even distorted due to the passage of time.
On arrival at the Institute in Hawkley, we were given a paper shopping bag containing 'iron rations', condensed milk, hard tack biscuits, and a few other items to use if our hosts had not managed to stock-up before our arrival.
We were now to be dispersed to our billet. Four boys, Stan Scammell, Les Eaglestone, 'Legs' Legray (never used his Christian name) and myself were taken to Mrs. Andrews at 'Uplands' Farm. This turned out to be a large, rambling farmhouse standing in very large grounds containing a croquet lawn surrounded by fruit trees and a tennis court. The croquet lawn was very soon made a temporary cricket pitch for which we were instantly and seriously admonished-we now knew our place! All four boys shared the same bedroom, as there was no true running water, it being pumped by hand into a storage tank in the loft, our washing water was kept in a large jug and basin in our room, there was no heating. A dining area was set aside for us at the end of the upstairs passage; here we had to fortify ourselves initially with the iron rations! Thereafter, we were allowed to use the kitchen in which to enjoy our food, the rest of the household used the dining room which was adjacent to the out of bounds Billiards room.
Mrs. Andrews was a very strict hostess who frequently explained that she considered it to be her contribution to the War effort to house us refugees from the threatened bombing of London. She also informed that she was the daughter of a German aristocrat, there certainly was an indication of German characteristic in her personality, her husband was English.
Our stay at 'Uplands' was an austere experience. Breakfast was bread and jam, lunch mostly rabbit in its various disguises or whatever was left over from the dining room the previous evening. We might as a consequence, find a cold pigeon on our plate. Tea would be bread and jam, supper you have guessed already, but Sunday was a real treat, we were given a boiled egg before going on Church Parade. This gave rise to our nickname of 'the bread and jam boys' which I believe was coined by Cyril Bridgen. Certain of the village ladies were aware of our poor diet and invited us to tea on occasions; Cyril's landlady was one such person.
Also billeted at 'Uplands' was the French Master Mr. Alway along with his charming wife and daughter Felicity, a toddler about eighteen months old. They dined with the Andrews family except the baby who was fed by Mrs. Alway in the kitchen with us and became quite friendly. Mr. Alway we very seldom set eyes on, except in school lessons!
We were expected to help with the harvesting and in particular the threshing machine, which was a very dirty dusty job. Also collect the eggs from the chicken coops, go beating on pheasant shoots, pump the water each day into the roof tank and wash-up all the meal time utensils.
The farm was mixed, with chickens, agriculture, and a milking herd. The Andrew's son "Stumpy" delivered the milk to the villagers from two cans suspended on a yoke on his shoulder. Although of the age for conscription, his farm work provided exemption; he was made a Second Lieutenant in the LDV the forerunner of the Home Guard.
During these first few months, the other three boys, one by one returned to Battersea but were replaced by Fred Glee and Arthur Govus both of whom tended to liven up the billet with their antics - say no more!
Not long after, Squire Davis who had become aware of our unsatisfactory accommodation decided, as Billeting Officer, to remove us from the Andrew's 'care' Arthur and myself went to Empshott to Mrs. Bone in Lythangar Bungalow in the driveway of General Sir Arthur Wauchope's Lythangar.
Whilst Fred found himself in the Greatham area. All three now had wonderful hostesses and accommodation, we were very happy. Arthur and I arrived in the midst of an air raid, the occasion when farm workers were machine-gunned by a low flying German aeroplane, fortunately no one was hurt. Mrs. Bone whose husband Fred was away in the army treated us like her own. On those cold mornings when we had to walk the two miles to the School in Hawkley, she would wrap a warm brick in a towel to keep us warm that was until the School bicycles were issued. We all remained friends throughout the rest of their lives, Arthur and I still keep in contact with the two daughters Elsie and Freda.
It was during this time that I had the honour of becoming Head Boy and enjoyed the kudos, which goes with such honour and the free School Cap! We played football against, firstly the local village side and then a couple of times against our other half at Rowlands Castle, both there and in Hawkley, honours were even!
At one stage, Mr. King had a bright idea to collect some of the printing equipment from Surrey Lane; the Printing Club was one of several extracurricular activities, which went on before the War.
Thus with the assistance of Mr.'Pussy' Whittington, a press, some type and other material was brought to Hawkley and situated in the Cricket Pavilion where it was soon put to work. As one who had been in the Club in Surrey Lane, under the supervision of Mr. King it became my responsibility to run the 'Shop' with the help of Dicky Dickenson and Paul Ravera. Eventually all the equipment was moved into the Hut which Dr. Raine had astutely procured from a site in Liss on condition he arranged its dismantlement and removal to our School area. The senior boys under the supervision and masterful assistance of 'Pussy' achieved this.
The booklet 'Hawkley Past and Present' was produced on the School Press and its method of production bears favourable comparison to Gutenberg's famous 42 Line Bible.
Shortly after this, I returned to London, had first hand experience of the blitz, witnessed the burning of Phillips Mills Paper store and within two years was in the Royal Navy who ultimately drafted me to Australia, I don't remember being a. bad boy!
I've come full circle now and enjoy tremendously our reunions in Hawkley. But I do not eat Rabbit!
Left Harry and Sylvia celebrating their Golden Wedding October 2002, I am sure that Rabbit was not on the menu!