Evacuation to Grandma's House in Rhondda Valley

Date: Sep 1914 to 1915
Location: Treherbert, Glamorgan, Wales
Surnames/tags: Thomas Hood

A short extract from the autobiography of Cyril Hood (my father) describing a visit to the home of his grandparents, shortly after the outbreak of World War 2.

The next few weeks after the birth of my sister on 6 August 1914 passed uneventfully, with many visitors to see the new baby, and me taking a back seat. Mother was now up and about again, and Father still being kept very busy, not getting home until late evening and only Sundays to really relax with the family. Only once did we go fishing, which to me was very pleasant but marred a little when listening to my Father conversing with his friends about the war, and realising how seriously they were taking it. A few were quite jocular, and of the opinion that it would be all over by Christmas, with the Kaiser and his men running so fast that they would be up the North Pole before they could stop.

Others, and these included my Father, saw it all in a very different light, and were exceedingly worried about the rumours of possible air attacks with dock yards and sea ports becoming the most vulnerable targets. School was due to start the following week, and my Father’s anxiety became very apparent when he told me that I would not be going, as plans were being made for me to stay awhile with my Grandparents up in the Valleys. This didn’t appeal to me at all until I understood that my mother and sister would be with me, and Father remaining behind in Newport and visiting us as often as he could. Now the whole idea had become an adventure, and I could hardly wait for the packing to be completed and the journey to commence. Came the big day and a large cab drew up at the front door to take us to the station. Father helped the driver load the luggage, which was considerable, and then we were away being evacuated because of the War.

On arrival at the station, the luggage was loaded by a Porter on to a hand trolley, and we followed him under an archway, and instead of going up some steps, he allowed us in the large luggage lift which took us up to the platform. Now everything was exciting. Father had gone to get the tickets, and Mother sat on a long seat with my baby sister, heavily shawled, kept close in her arms. There were many people about, lots of talking and shouting going on, the smell of hot oil, smoke and steam emitting from an engine in the centre of the tracks, porters scurrying to and fro with hand-trucks laden with luggage. Then the climax as everyone was told to stand back and alongside the platform came the mighty engine, steam valves hissing, brakes shrieking, the Driver and his Fireman in the glow of the furnace as, drawing its numerous carriages, it slowly came to a halt. The train was very full, but we managed to get seats, and after ensuring that all our luggage was in the van, Father joined us in the compartment which was now completely full, and I stood by the window while he took my seat. Dusk was closing in as we pulled out of Newport, and although the journey to Cardiff was less than half an hour, it was dark when we arrived. Here again the same turmoil, noises and whistles from engines, porters shouting, endless chattering from the passengers and all going on in the flickering glare of the masked gas-jets along the platform.

The luggage was now out on the platform, and then suddenly a shout of welcome as running towards us came Aunt Jessie and a young man whom I recognised as my Uncle Jack, who had visited us on a few occasions in Newport. I remembered him well, because he was always good for a couple of bob. They took charge of the luggage because it meant a change of platform for the Valleys train, and it was then that I was disappointed to learn that Father was not coming with us. He saw us safely on our train, and as we waved goodbye, I watched him walk dejectedly away and down the stairs.

The train was now on its way up into the Valleys, and this being my first visit to this part, I obviously felt a surge of excitement and anticipation within me as akin to an adventure trip into a new world. The carriage, which was composed of just one long seat on either side, was quite full, and we sat close together, Mum with Rene in a corner, and me between Uncle Jack and Aunt Jessie. Unfortunately we were almost in complete darkness, with no light in the carriage other than the faint rays of the moon which found their way through the small parts of the glass windows that had been left uncovered. We stopped at station after station with identical circumstances. The shrieking of brakes and jolting of the carriages as we pulled to a standstill, the raised voices of passengers as doors opened and crashed shut, the whistle of the Guard denoting “Ready to Go” followed by the screaming whistle from the engine saying “I’m ready”, and then a further jolting of the carriage as with a hissing of steam and a bellowed puffing of smoke from its funnel, the engine took the strain and we were off again.

I was falling asleep when a further jolting and movement in the carriage awakened me, and I learnt that we had arrived at our destination at the top of the valley. It was the end of the run for this train, so everybody alighted and made for the gate leading out of the station. Uncle Jack turned the heavy luggage over to a Porter for overnight storage, to be delivered next morning and with just a few small items we made our way to the road. No taxi luxury here, and so I understood it was to a be walk of about a mile to home and bed. We set off in the wake of the other passengers, most of them taking the same road, and the silence of the night was broken with the sound of their gay chatter with laughter, interspersed with the clear staccato echo of our footsteps as we plodded along. A silvery glow above the mountains heralded the moon which impressively spilled light and shadow with its own artistry among the crags and crannies overlooking the tranquil valley. I felt a little frightened of the mountains at first as we trudged along the road, their appearance of rising majestically, one in front of us and one on either side, grim and foreboding, and threatening to embrace us, but as we walked alongside the river, rippling gently over the stones and reflecting the moon glow, I had a feeling of security from an outer world where bad things were happening. We turned off the main road, crossed the river by a small bridge, down the lane and thankfully, we were home. A terraced house, the end of the row, and right on the riverside, so much was I able to notice, and then we were indoors. Here the excitement was intense.

Grandad and Grandma seeing Mother and I for the first time in about three years when they last visited us in Newport, and now a new baby, I guess it was too much. We were in the sitting room, very pleasantly furnished with red-plush velvet curtains at one end of the room and on one of the side walls, also the same material on a large table in the centre of the room. A roaring coal fire burned in the grate with a rocking armchair on either side, and a settee taking up the length of the other wall. The whole scene enhanced with the soft glow from an oil lamp with tinted glass shade which stood in the centre of the table. A door at the end led down into a kitchen / dining room where tea and food had been prepared, but excitement prevailed and with all the chatter and dis-robing going on, especially the baby taking maximum attention, cups of tea were brought up and served where we sat. I was sitting at the head of the settee, more or less facing the curtains on the side wall, and here was to happen a replica of something which had happened once before. The curtains parted in the middle and a tousled head appeared about three feet from the floor, followed by another head just above it, and then a third, the last head covered with a mop of dark, curly hair. My mind immediately went back to the three bears at the Pantomime and I was half expecting the music to start. And start it did, but in a different vein. Grandma was across the room and wrenched the curtains apart to expose three bodies in night attire, one above each other on the stairs leading to the bedrooms. “You were sent to bed to sleep” she said “and you were forbidden to come down until the morning”. Mother became the Peace Maker when she intimated that morning would be a long time to wait before she could see her sister and brothers, and so I met for the first time my Aunt Elizabeth (Aunt Lizzie) aged 11, my Uncle David (Dai) aged 9, and my Uncle Edward (Ned) aged 7.

I believe that I mentioned in the beginning it was a strange sequence, and so we grew up together with my being treated more as a brother than a nephew, and we always remained on Christian name terms, while the other members of Mother’s family I naturally treated as Aunts and Uncles. It had been a long day and I was already half asleep when Grandma led me upstairs to a room which had been prepared for us. I was to sleep with Mother, and Rene was to sleep in a cot which had been made up from the top drawer of the dressing table. I slept well and awoke in the morning to find myself alone and just a little bewildered, until I recalled the wink of the previous day and suddenly felt frightened. Father had been left behind, and now Mother and Rene were missing. I was in tears when I hurriedly rushed downstairs to find everything calm and peaceful. Mother was in the kitchen having fed and bathed Rene, Grandma was making up the fire, and Aunt Jessie was preparing a breakfast for me. I was to understand that Grandma had been up since 5:30am to get Grandad, Uncle Jack and Uncle Fred off to work, which entailed preparing food boxes for them, then it was the turn of Liz, Dai and Ned to be called, breakfasted, and sent off to school.

Grandad (John Thomas) worked down in the coal mine, and Uncle Fred, aged 15, whom I had not yet met, worked with him as his boy. It was traditional that Father (the Tradesman) took his son straight from leaving school, to work with him and teach him the trade of mining. He was also responsible for his wages, because the Miner was paid according to his output of coal and so the boy received his share accordingly. It was sort of a miner’s apprenticeship, and when the boy had proved himself capable of doing the job, he would then become a Miner responsible for taking a boy on, and the Father would start another boy or possibly another son who had come of age.

Uncle Jack worked in the lamp room on the surface of the mine, cleaning, preparing and issuing the safety lamps which each miner took underground with him. Aunt Jessie had remained at home since Grandma’s (Lizzie Thomas) illness a while ago, and while I breakfasted, she went up to make the beds. Our luggage had arrived from the station, so Mother and I went upstairs to unpack and store away our belongings. In the meantime, Grandma had gone to do some shopping, and upon her return commenced to prepare dinner for the three coming in from school at noon. I was amazed at the amount of vegetables etc but she said that little would be left when everybody had their fill. All the cooking was done on the kitchen fire and oven, during which time Aunt Jessie was filling a boiler with water, situated in a corner of the scullery adjacent to the kitchen and under which another coal fire was burning. This I understood to be for the baths. Within a few minutes of 12 o’clock, the school was quite near, the peace was shattered as the three came tearing in with caps and coats thrown in a heap, and me the main centre of attraction. What kind of games did I play? and what toys and books had I brought? were the first line of questioning, quickly terminated when Grandma said that dinner was on the table, and then it was a dash for the sink, a hand shake with the water tap and a final flurry with the towel which finished up on the floor, and up to the table.

We all sat down together at the kitchen table, and once the meal was finished, Mother and Aunt Jessie did the clearing and washing up while Grandma continued preparations for the men’s meal when they returned from work. We children went out to play in a small back yard, and here I was introduced to some games I hadn’t played before, and which were rather more robust than those I had been accustomed to. I think they were trying me out, but it didn’t last long before they were called indoors to another slight disagreement with tap and towel, and then it was back to school for the afternoon session.

Around mid-afternoon the three men arrived home from work, coming in through the yard and back entrance, and kicking off their dirty boots as they came into the kitchen. A cup of tea had already been poured and awaited them on the table. Uncle Jack was dirty in his work-clothes, but Grandad and Uncle Fred were absolutely black in their coating of coal dust. They all had cheery greetings for us, and I found Uncle Fred to be full of laughs and leg-pulling. He was aged 15 and quite big beside the others, with a mass of curly hair. A large zinc bath had been brought in and placed in front of the fire, and then the hot water from the boiler became apparent as bucket-full upon bucket-full was emptied into the bath. It was suggested that I go upstairs to my books while the bathing was in progress, and when I returned about an hour later, it was to find three clean men around the kitchen table getting down to a mountain of food. Aunt Jessie was now laying the table in the sitting room for tea for the remainder of us, while Grandma was in the scullery washing out the dirty clothes.

A further hurricane hit the place as the three arrived home from school, and we gamed around for a while until called in for tea, Grandad had taken up his position in the rocker next to the fire, and both Uncles had gone out to a near-by club. With tea over, we were allowed out for a short time to play, while Mother and Aunt Jessie tackled the huge pile of dishes which had accumulated for washing up. When we were called in from playing, the bath had been re-instated in front of the fire and it was our turn to follow through the cleansing process, finishing up in our night attire. While this was being carried out under the watchful eye and help of Aunt Jessie, Grandma was using the end of the kitchen table as an ironing board, with a huge basket of clothes alongside her, and two irons, one in use and alternating with the other which was heating on the fire. When completed, the clothes were placed on a multi-bar wooden airer, which was suspended from the ceiling and could be pulled up to a position in front of the fire. All the fires were banked up last thing at night with a couple of large iron kettles on the grid alongside, thus just a raking of ashes in the morning and you had a roaring fire and boiling water for tea-making and so on.

We four had now joined Grandad in the sitting room where he told us stories, new to me, but from the remarks being made, stale to the others, until with a few coughs he reached for his cap and was away out to make a call. Dai grinned and said ”All the way to the Pub”. We now had hot milk and little round Welsh cakes which had been made that afternoon on a bake stone over the fire, and then it was bed, with dire warnings if there was any noise because baby Rene was already upstairs and in her cot. So ended my first day in the Valley.

A NOTE FROM CYRIL: I trust that I haven’t been boring but I used that first day in an attempt to emphasise the conditions of a working family life during that period, where a wife like my Grandma would be up at 5:30am and almost continually on the go right throughout the day until bed-time, without any of the modern conveniences enjoyed today, yet always there with a smile and a kind word, and whose only recreation might be said her Sunday visit to evening service at the Church, and her only holiday the day-trip to the sea-side with the children’s Sunday School outing.