Winter 2023

LOCAL HISTORY
MUSEUM
MATTERS
Joyce London visited Cranbrook Museum
earlier this year, her first return after 81
years. She was evacuated from South East
London to Cranbrook at the beginning of
the war. Here is her story.
‘I was born in June 1931 in Charlton, South
East London. Back then my name was Joyce
Mary Wakefield. I started at Maryon Park
primary school when I was five. My mother
died when I was three and I was living with my
father, step-mother, two older brothers and a
younger step-brother in 1939 when talk of war
began. Everyone at school was given letters
to take home saying that children in our area
were going to be evacuated from London. My
step-brother Tommy and I were really excited
to be going on this big adventure – little did
we know that it would be years before we
would see our home again. I was eight and
Tommy was five.
“Cranbrook is where I was so
happy all those years ago”
‘We set off on Friday 1 September. We had
been told to bring a small suitcase of clothes
and a couple of toys and books with us. We
boarded a steam train at Charlton station and
soon arrived at a place called Cranbrook in
Kent, which seemed a world away from the
noise, dirt and factories of South East London.
We were walked by our teachers down the
high street and Tommy and I were among the
last to be delivered to our new home, a dairy
at the bottom of the street. Two days later, on
Sunday 3 September, war was declared. After
a couple of weeks we settled into a routine,
attending a school for evacuated children in
a hall at the top of the high street during the
day and helping out in the dairy in the evening
and at weekends.
‘One afternoon, we came home from school
to find another lady at the house who said,
“You’re coming to stay with me now.” I had
no idea why we were being moved. She was a
very kindly, older lady and I instantly warmed
to her but, as we walked back to her house, she
said, “We’ve got a lovely dog called Trixie, who
you will really like.” My heart sank because I
RIGHT Joyce London
visiting the museum
in 2023
was terrified of dogs but I tried not to let my
fear show. I had no idea that this would turn
out to be one of the happiest times of my life.
Our new hosts, Mr and Mrs Webb, had a grown
up son called Stanley and a daughter called
Kitty, who ran the local fish and chip shop
from a tin shed close to the churchyard wall.
Together we all lived at 2 Rectory Cottages
along with Trixie, who turned out to be the
best dog in the world.
‘Away from school both Tommy and I
experienced the space and freedom we had
never known in London – I made friends
with Pat Honess, the fireman’s daughter,
and Eunice Curl, who taught me to ride a
bike. There were woods to play in, a pond
that we would skate on when was frozen and
countless adventures to enjoy in the beautiful
Kent countryside. Rectory Cottages weren’t
fancy but Tommy and I loved living there.
The war didn’t really touch us. Of course,
sweets, clothes and food were rationed, we
had to go everywhere with our gas masks and
sometimes we would stand and watch the
dogfights in the skies above us – but we knew
little of the Blitz in London or how hard life
was for the grown-ups who had stayed on
there.
ABOVE Joyce and her younger brother Tommy
(front), Mrs Webb and her daughter Kitty (rear)
and Trixie, the dog, c.1940 in front of Rectory
Cottages
ALL GOOD THINGS COME TO AN END
‘Every weekend my dad’s local pub back in
Charlton ran a coach that brought parents
down to Cranbrook for the day and, after the
worst of the Blitz was over, many of them
started taking their children back to London.
I never wanted to go back because my life in
Cranbrook was much more fun than the one
I had back at home. All good things have to
come to an end though and, when I turned
11 in the summer of 1942, it was time to
leave Cranbrook and head to a new school in
Bedford.
‘When the war ended, I moved back to
South East London, where I got married.
Children, grandchildren and greatgrandchildren
followed, friends and jobs
came and went and recollections of my time
as an evacuee faded. Recently though one of
my sons moved to Kent and encouraged me
to go to Cranbrook with him to try and find
the house I lived in. So much of the town has
changed but so much is still the same – the
fish and chip hut, cinema and sweet shop
are long since gone but the church, the pub
and the windmill are just as I remember
them. Memories from over 80 years ago came
flooding back as we explored the town before
heading to the museum. Then, as I walked
past the duck pond towards the museum door,
it hit me – this was the house I lived in back
in 1939, the house where I was so happy all
those years ago! Not sure if it was luck or fate
that Rosemary and Colin were on museum
duty that day and once I told them my story,
Rosemary reeled off a list of names and
places that I hadn’t heard since the Second
World War. Chatting with Rosemary was like
stepping back in time and reconnecting with
my past.
‘I hope to revisit Cranbrook again soon
and bring back more of my family so they can
see the place where I stayed thanks to the
kindness of Mr and Mrs Webb. I’m sure they
would be pleased to know their old home in
Rectory Cottages is now a museum where
local people (am I allowed to call myself that
after a gap of 80 years?) can meet, exchange
stories and learn more about the past.
Although I am now 92, thanks to Cranbrook
and the Museum I felt nine years’ old again for
an afternoon – I cannot thank them enough.’
The Cake • Winter 2023 31