Story of Evacuee(Tara Callinan) 10th of October, 1939, England
Dear Diary,
It is quite early, quarter to seven! I wonder how on earth I woke up. Last month, I was evacuated to the countryside. It’s quite odd here but I like it. Recently, I saw a strange creature called a cow for the first time! He’s a great big black and white spotted animal that is said to produce milk. I am now quite grateful for it’s existence. Speaking of milk, it tastes much creamier around here. I’ve also noticed that I’m allowed to go to much more places on my own. I suppose it’s because there is no traffic or bombs going off in the little village I’m staying in so, grownups can trust their children more. The countryside side is splendid, all the beautiful nature and wildlife surrounding everywhere you go. There are all sorts of birds, not just crows and pigeons. I even saw a fox last night, out of my bedroom window. I wish it was like that in London. Anyway, I’m finding there are so many pleasant places to stroll along. And even school is better in the countryside! It’s not as strict and the teacher has more time to talk to each pupil individually since there aren’t as many students in the school. There are only four teachers, including the headmaster! Our teacher is Mrs Willow. She is very nice and she doesn’t complain about my messy handwriting as often as the nuns kept bothering me about it in London. And she compliments me. Once in a while, she goes, ‘Well done, Jennifer!’ Or, ‘Good work, Jennifer!’ I really like her.

There are some things that I’m afraid I can’t help disliking around here. For instance, the odor of smelly cow business wafting down the road can be quite irritating. Or, the outrageous number of bugs and flies and wasps and fleas and spiders and cockroaches! If I mention any more, I think I am going to be sick. My new friend, Barry, keeps pestering me about it, calling me a sissy for being frightened of tiny little insects. But he couldn’t understand, he has been living with it all of his life. Of course, he’s not scared. I keep telling him this but he thinks it’s some silly excuse, no matter how much I insist. He can’t imagine a life without so many bugs. Disgusting. My other friend, Anna, is quite sympathetic. She tries to understand. She is rather sweet. Also the cramped cottage that I live in is full of cobwebs and I think there might be vermin! But what did I expect? I live with an old man called Mr Evans who is partly blind and has trouble hearing. He has a bad temper and is too lazy to buy mousetraps but at least the food he gives me is absolutely delicious. The nourishing milk, ham and freshly made bread, butter and cheese almost makes up for it. He grows his own vegetables as well so they too taste brilliant. Mr Evans can really make a sandwich! My mouth is nearly watering at the thought of his scrambled eggs! They are quite something. Not to mention his omelettes. Yesterday, when I remarked at how good his cooking is, he winked and replied, ‘You should have tasted Mothers food!’ I really wish I had. I must say, he most certainly can whip up a good meal. Mr Evans has the magic touch when it comes to food.

Before I woke up, I was dreaming of London and all the people I’m longing to see again. I loathe the fact that I am not allowed to visit Mother and Father and darling little Mandy. Oh, how I ache to visit Mandy! You would think that two sisters wouldn’t be separated, but there it is. If you ask me, it was very strange and unthoughtful to put us in different houses. I haven’t a clue where Mandy is and neither does she know where I am. I can’t take care of her. I was always able to watch over her and she is gone, all alone without any family. There isn’t one single thing I can do about it. It doesn’t feel nice knowing I am helpless. Poor, sweet Mandy! But at least I have the knowledge that she has been evacuated and is safely away from those awful, horrid bombs. Oh, and I miss dear Betty. Do you know, I think she is my very best friend? She hasn’t been evacuated. For some unknown reason, her parents don’t want her to. She told me herself that even she doesn’t know why in one of her letters. I’m worried for her. The city is dangerous and I don’t want anything bad to happen to her. Personally, I think Betty’s parents are being highly unreasonable. They are risking their own child’s life for nothing at all. Unless, perhaps they do have a reason and won’t tell Betty what it is. But why? Oh, my goodness, it’s half past eight! School is in thirty minutes! I better go!

Jenny

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