Evacuees Come to Hawkley
by Cliff Douthwaite
The destruction of innocent civilians in Spain during the Civil War had been the proof that governments needed that bombing was the new horror of warfare. With this in mind, the British government introduced evacuation at the start of WW2. School children were sent with their teachers to what were considered safe areas free from bombing.
In the first few weeks of the war, nearly three million children were evacuated; hence, on the 1st September 1939, about 80 boys from Battersea Central School in London were sent into the depths of Hampshire to Hawkley, whilst the rest of the school went to Rowland's Castle. The girls’ section stayed in civilised Petersfield where, later, a contingent from the Portsmouth district joined us once this area became a prime target for the German bombers. Later still, local boys started to fill the places of the Battersea boys who returned home before the Blitz started: many had found the “primitive” village lifestyle difficult; they were not used to the privy at the bottom of the garden, no electric lighting or piped fresh water; even in a Battersea slum, these were the standard!
A dramatic event occurred in 1939 when a party of London girls due to be billeted in Hawkley actually turned out to be boys, some as old as 16! This must have been a shock to all those mothers with teenage girls. But perhaps to these maidens it was a gift from heaven?
The school at Hawkley was commandeered; Dr Raine, the Battersea Headmaster at Hawkley, was billeted at Parsons Piece with his wife and two children, the Hawkley school was demoted to the Village Institute since replaced by a modern Parrish Hall. However, imagine the situation - a number of us originated from the slums of Battersea and had never been to the country before, let alone understood the culture of village life.
But I think, in retrospect, that it was more of a culture shock to the villagers than to the readily adaptable youngsters. Many of us had only the clothes we stood up in, and our billet hostesses did not believe that they were all we possessed. Many of us had in addition to our gas masks, a brown paper bag, containing perhaps a toothbrush and a bar of soap and a comb! Our parents were not allowed to see us off; we had to congregate initially at our school, and then walk to the local station - Clapham Junction - where we set off for a secret destination. The plans were admirably constructed; it was two days before the declaration of war and there was still hope of peace; parents were encouraged to believe that the exodus was a temporary thing, a practice in cases the “real” thing became necessary.
It is true to say that most boys settled in very quickly, but tended to continue their lifestyle: as there was plenty of fruit and vegetables about, why not take them? Lovely farm and other gates to play with and swing on, so why not play? This was hardly real vandalism or criminality to the perpetrators, but a destructive mode of behaviour to the farming community. The villagers were remarkably tolerant in the early months of evacuation; the teachers must have been sorely tried by the wanton behaviour of some of their charges. The villagers quickly adapted most of the farmers and virtually all of the householders went out of their way to teach by example and constructive use, the ways and tasks of the countryside.
The official government story was that all young children had been evacuated and that the whole process had been efficiently organised and executed with precision. However, this was not the whole story. Evacuated children found that their hosts were not always welcoming and that their two lifestyles clashed. A typical placement was that of the three Douthwaite boys to Martin’s Farm, Higher Oakshott Farm: the welcome given was rather muted, as Mrs. Martin had agreed to take three nice girls, and having three Battersea boys was rather a shock for her. This became apparent to us too, as we were soon shunted out to one of the (unwilling) farm workers’ wives, but, as the cottage was very small, we were soon moved again to Hawkley Hurst to join another three pairs of brothers.
Hawkley Hurst
At Hawkley Hurst, the owners were the Squire, Clive Davies, and his wife. The Squire lived in a mansion in our eyes, with servants and more rooms than we could ever imagine. Mr Hudson, the butler, lived in a cottage opposite the milking parlour, the chauffeur lived in the Bothy (Garage Cottage) opposite the power house and sawmill. This Bothy has since been much enlarged and modified into an elegant house. Then there was Mr Sutherland, the Head Gardener and his staff; Mrs May Hudson was the head cook and the remaining housemaid was Lizzie, a single lady whose mother lived near the church in Hawkley village. Frau Williams, a German was the second Cook, mainly for the evacuees. She was taken away, as all German nationals were interned for the period of the war. Miss Imms, a Governess, was employed by Mr Davies to look after at least ten boys. We did not live with the family but became part of the upstairs/downstairs arrangement, typical of country life in large estates.
Cliff and Jack with their father in the grounds of the Hurst, this was Dads only visit in 3 years.Looking back, most evacuees who stayed and assimilated to the village lifestyle consider their experiences as worthwhile, even though all were separated from their parents for three years or more.
So, thank you, Hawkley!
