Imagine

Lady Carnarvon, I hope the children and all those who looked after them saw there families again. The war was over and peace and joy returned but they went through hell to get it. For all those that served in the war God bless you where ever you are.

Dear Lady Carnarvon,

Thank you for that genuinely lovely and touching post.

When I was very young, the young woman (this was in the mid-sixties so I suppose she would have been only about twenty-five or twenty-six, herself, whereas both of my parents were hitting thirty and been married since both were twenty) who occasionally cared for my brothers and me worked as a secretary at some government agency (we lived that year in Washington, DC), and she would come on weekends to “Babysit” us. My brother and I were seven, and our younger brother was about a year old.

I probably should emphasize that my mother, who ran the household,, was completely present and on-site at all times. So, we didn’t quite know why we had a nanny, who wasn’t really a nanny and certainly nothing as insignificant as a “babysitter”. To begin with, she always ate dinner with my parents when she, living a few miles away, came for one of her frequent stays. What we DID know is that she was blonde, quite pretty, a source of riddles/jokes that we never quite understood, and was thoroughly English. “Mary Poppins” was, of course, the biggest hit of the year, that particular year…….and here we were, sitting in a suburb of DC, with a REAL ENGLISH NANNY. We thought she was marvelous.

I was at least twenty-five, myself (certainly well-out of college), when I asked my mother about Della (who did, indeed, have a name). The sad truth (of a sort with which most Americans would be unfamiliar) is that she, as the youngest member of her family in London, had been the only one evacuated out to the countryside before the blitz. Her siblings (two brothers, both much older than her) and both of her were killed in either the blitz or the war itself. She’d spent the last part of her childhood in a Canadian (don’t ask me how that move came about) orphanage, eventually gone to secretarial school, and had simply decided to take a job in Washington, DC., where her boss was one of my parents’ friends.

It’s sweet to recall now (and I turn sixty in a few months) that, while the matter was never even alluded to when my brothers and I were young, my mother’s since said “But Della didn’t have any family left after the war. She never met anyone to marry in Canada…..so what could we do except share you boys with her? She LOVED you boys. We were lucky in America….. the war never came here…”

Well……we loved Della, who would take us to the National Zoo, the Natural History Museum, and any number of other sights in the capital. The nice end to the story, last I heard my mother speak of Della, is that she did, indeed and as regularly happens to bright and pretty secretaries in DC, meet a very nice American man who married her and took her off to live in California….where ad with whom I gather she still lives.

Well….thank you again for the lovely and, as ever on your blog, evocative posting.

Sincerely,

David Terry
Quail Roost Farm
Rougemont, NC
USA

I am so proud of the British people who kept the little children safe during the War. My dad was gone for three years when I was born in 1941. Love your historical stories each week. Thank you for sharing your precious time with me across the pond.

Your writing filled my heart again. You are so gifted.

Dear Lady Carnarvon
Yes difficult to imagine however a chance for protection. Hoping for safety for all, always. Happy first days of Spring.

Thank you for your lovely post. I have an interesting story about the workings of the war here in the U.S. Though my Dad and several uncles and family friends from that era assumed they’d be going to war, they were uniformly rejected because of their college educations and professional status (doctors, lawyers etc.). They would automatically have been officers. Doesn’t make sense, does it? They were African American and in some cases would have commanded white troops which in a segregated military would not have been permitted. There were scores of Black men who were rejected solely because of the military’s refusal to have Black officers. I always wondered why many of the men of my Dad’s set never served and finally the son of one of these men whose father was a physician told me. The vast majority of Black servicemen were only allowed to be cooks, cleaners or laborers. When they came home to America, full of stories of the wonderful time and kind people they’d met in Europe, it inspired a whole generation of Black jazz musicians to relocate to London, Paris and Rome.

So enjoy reading your stories! Such a beautiful way Highclere helped those children during a difficult time. I know my mother in law and her family lived in London at a time during the war and left to go to Oxford. Wonderful history you share!!

It’s a bit late. The posting today was both sad and uplifting. War damages everyone. It has touched my family in every generation throughout our genealogy. While I can wear the ribbons/medals of being a “Daughter of …..” (so many different organizations), I would love to know that no one else in my family would pay the price associated with the horrors of war.

Thank you for another reminder of Highclere’s history. May we live in peace for at least moments of each day.

Lady C,
Thanks for writing yet another eloquent post and more images of Highclere. I read C.S. Lewis’s The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (one of my favorite books) to my second graders (7-8) every January. I always imagine the professor’s beautiful home to look very much like Highclere. As the Pevensie children arrive to the house, because of being displaced by the war, I can see them exploring all the nooks and crannies of the great house not realizing Narnia was hidden just behind the wardrobe doors. I’ll bet many of the children housed at Highclere during war found it to be a source of comfort, intrigue, exploration and so much more. Thanks for sharing this chapter from Highclere’s history. I so enjoy reading your blogs.

My Mother was a British War Bride, she was called up when she was 18 to serve in the Women’s Land Army, she was from Essex. She was billeted very near her home town of Braintree and was able to live at home, during her time serving. She worked on a chicken farm that belonged to a Jewish husband and wife that fled from Germany. She told of working in the beet fields and going to the dances with her friends at the air base and some of the shenanigans they got up to. She spoke of the children that were evacuated from the cities especially London, it is only 40 miles South of Braintree, to the country during the war. I believe one of her sisters who was married took in some evacuees during the war. She often spoke of all the hardships they endured, the black out curtains that her Mother made, rationing, the bombs, air raid shelters, watching the sky to count the bomber planes coming back to the nearby airbase after a mission. She met my Dad who was an American airman that was stationed at the first American airbase built in England, Great Saling or Andrew’s Field. My parents were married in the UK and my brother was born there. After the war ended in 1946, Mom and baby brother sailed across on a hospital ship that was used to transport war brides to the States, they arrived in New York went through processing then took the train to Ohio where they were met by her in-laws, my Grandparents. Such a long, grueling trip and so far away from everything she was used to and coming to a strange place, I realize how very brave she was! I have her little diary that she kept, writing of her preparations beforehand and during the trip across the Atlantic with my brother who was just a baby. She always told us stories and was proud of her WLA service and Dad was proud of his military service and spoke often of it. Mom had been in the States for 16 years and during that time she lost her Dad, which broke her heart that she never saw him alive again, Her Mother, my Nana, came over and spent a year with us when I was just a baby in 1957. So in 1962, Mom planned her first trip back “home”. She, my brother who was 17 and me, I was 5, took the train from our hometown in Ohio to New York and flew TWA, I still have my “wings” that the stewardess gave me! We visited for 3 months. My Dad stayed back home in Ohio, he had his job to consider. Growing up I traveled with my Mom or both of my parents and eventually myself and our daughter. Many times I have crossed the Atlantic to visit my Aunties, Uncles and Cousins in England. I only have 1 Auntie left there, but a lot of 1st, 2nd and 3rd cousins now and even Godchildren! My husband I just made the trip this past December to spend Christmas with them for the very first time. We were able to visit Highclere Castle and it was absolutely wonderful. I just finished reading your Lady Catherine book and really enjoyed it. Thank You for all you do to keep history alive and well at Highclere! Best Wishes for a wonderful VE day celebration on May 8th, (which by the way is my husband’s birthday)!

Such a fascinating insight into those awful War days and so heartwarming to read about the evacuees since I hadn’t realised Highclere had given them refuge at that time. Thank you for sharing this with us. My husband and I were thrilled to visit last summer, probably on the hottest day of the year, and it was an unforgettable experience. Returning to the War theme, both of our late fathers served during WW2 like many others. My father was in the Royal Navy and served in India and what was then Ceylon. He sadly died when I was just 13 and not interested in asking all the many questions I should have loved to put to him had he lived. I do gather he loved those countries and their people from my mother. My husband’s father had quite a war in several theatres including landing at Sword Beach on D Day, and liberating Belsen at the end of the war. He never spoke of it sadly but it’s hardly surprising given what he must have witnessed. They were a very special generation and although neither of us was born until well after the war, we never cease to appreciate the sacrifices they, and millions of others, made to give us the freedom we enjoy to this day. Thank you for all you share, and to the others who share their experiences on here. It is a wonderful and uplifting site to read.

Good Afternoon! I love seeing your emails when they come! I was just wondering if all the children that were left at Highclere were picked up by their parents? I’m sure no matter how young they were they felt the relief and joy from all those around them! Thank you so much for sharing your stories with us, they are so very welcomed!

In the constant bombing over the towers of London, 80 little children wave goodbye to family and friends to board, along with their teachers, a bus traveling to the countryside and live hidden safely away inside the huge castle of the king and queen until it was safe again to return home.

Sounds like the beginning of a good children’s book to me!

History and how your home and land played its part….Priceless. I’m sure the children were at first frightened and the parents as well. But perhaps they used the approach of it as an adventure for the children to try and win them over. Great read and John Lennon’s song Imagine is priceless!

My grandpa was evacuated from London to a small holding at Binley. He has fond memories of his time there helping out on the farm. The man named Walt who he was staying with was a local licensed rabbit catcher. My grandpa has a memory of going out early one morning with Walt, his ferrets in a bag to go catch rabbits. He says out of the fog loomed the biggest and most beautiful house he had ever seen, it was Highclere Castle. At 88years old he still talks fondly of his time as an evacuee.