Don McDouall's Story |
My name is Don McDouall. I was one of the countless, who left their homes forever that Friday, before the war started! I was 4years old...going on 5. Having been separated from my kin, I found myself billeted in the Village of East Hanney [then in Berkshire.] I guess I was one of the less fortunate...I remember hunger...cold...the continuous beatings. I remember the day after V.E. day when I ran away once more... this time to be returned to a `Home`. I remember the terrible 2 years I spent in a home for the unwanted in Bourne End, Bucks. I remember the L.C.C. officer who told me that I had no sisters alive, no mother or father alive...when I was 14. I remember the `ice-e-ness`I felt after waiting to go home after a long 10 years.
But I also remember a certain old man, who was my childhood soulmate... I remember the `Cowslips`... The smell of the springtime rain... The sound of a `Thrush`...The `red-throated Sticklebacks in the village pond.
I also remember my childhood sweetheart! I`ve been gone now some fifty years come next February. I live in Ongerup W.A., Australia. Recently, I found that I still had 2 sisters and a brother, alive and well in the U.K. So all 4 of us outlived most of our tormentors. Perhaps I sound bitter?...no not really...I just hope history does not keep repeating itself. Regards, Dooly
My start in life...was not the best, evidently 'Dad' took off to the Spanish civil war in '37 & was never heard of again. I remember very little of my life up to 1.9.39. I was evacuated with my eldest sister Esther...but the powers that be, of that time...made sure I never ended up at the same place...Oh no! I'm with another little kid in East Hanney...My sister is with this kid's sister in Swindon...so much for keeping families together. So I find myself living with an oldish couple. The man did his best to protect me from his wife, but I guess he didn`t really want to 'rock the boat' so I started a life of drudgery... getting hidings every day for wetting the bed...being told each day I wasn't wanted...That my mother was no good, & so on. If I wasn't at school I was working, if not working, then we 2 kids would search the dust bins and gardens for something to eat.
So I grew up & soon learned to fend for myself. I learnt quickly ..Not to get 'Too friendly' with grown men & women. End result was sexual abuse. My Mum never came to see me...The war ended .. I spent a few really nice months in the home know as 'Poundcroft' The matron was really kind...Then it was on to the desolation of 'The Homestead' What a ridiculous name for such an unfriendly place... There was more abuse, but you didn't get walloped for bed wetting. I realized by now my Mum didn't want me. I was billeted back in East Hanney.. My tormentor was now dead. After running away a few more times.. My 'welfare officer' told me I was wasting my time looking for my family...They were all dead. I met a wonderful girl when I was 16 years old...Came out to Australia at age 17. Hoping to make my fortune, go back & live happily ever after... but it was not to be. My youngest sister June, was in an orphanage until she was 7 years old, then was billeted out... she too copped the lot as it were. Esther was lucky, she had nice foster parents. So the three of us wandered through our lives thinking the others were dead. By sheer luck [another story] we stumbled on each other back in late `98. I have written a book on my childhood... published it myself...perhaps one day it will be read by many. Regards Dooly
I`ve very fond memories of Pommy Fish`an chips. I can't recollect much about these establishments while the war was on...never went anywhere much, or had any money...But! after I left school in`49 us young louts would get on the bus to Wantage & first stand in the queue at the picture show...afterwoods it was ... Go & stand in another queue that eventually lead you into the vinegar soaked atmosphere of the `Fish`n`chip shop...Your tanner would get you a lump of some marine animal [what it really was gawd knows] & a great steaming mess of chips...all wrapped up in hot greasy newspaper... there was salt & vinegar everywhere... But it was heaven to eat it all while hopping from one foot to the other, trying to get frozen toes to come to life again, while you stood in another queue ... waiting for the bus home. Yeh, I know such food wasn`t good for `ee`... but I still `drool` remembering the smells & tastes. Incidentally, I found out that the same shop 50 years later still sell fish`n`chips ... It was famous with the Yanks from `Grove` airstrip during the war & is now a tourist attraction for Yankee veterans visiting the UK.
Regards Dooly.
G`day. Gerry and the rest of you
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