Bill Sparkes was an evacuee from London during WWII

Earliest Memories

My earliest memories are from about 1939 when I was three years old and included living in one of those horribly drab blocks of flats in North London. We lived on the top floor of a walk-up five story building. I vaguely remember the occasional bombing at the start of WWII and felt the fear that my family expressed while I was too young to know what was happening.

An Evacuee

Shortly thereafter, my sister and I were shipped out of London like thousands of other kids as part of a government program to get kids out of harms way. Luckily my sister and I were fortunate enough to wind up with Mr. & Mrs. Prismall at Hillside Cottages in Liddington. Mrs. Prismall, or Aunt Millie as she was known to us, was a heavy set woman who rarely went anywhere. Her husband Jack worked in Swindon as a heavy equipment operator. Both were gentle, kind, honest and hard working individuals. Later on I realized that not only was I extremely lucky to get sent to beautiful Liddington, I also was doubly fortunate in having great people to care for me.

An Adventure

My life in Liddington became an adventure. Little did I know that I was embarking on an adventure that would change my life. Growing up as a young boy in Liddington, I was sheltered from the horrors of war, living an idyllic life in the fields and farms. Wanting for nothing, mischievous and daring as we explored life. The closest that we came to the effects of war was running behind the truck loads, or marching columns, of thousands of American soldiers shouting "Any gum chum". Since most candy and fruit were not available at the time, a piece of chewing gum was a rare treat. I clearly remember a soldier giving me an orange, something that I had never seen before and not having any idea how to eat it.

Going from the conditions of 1939 London to the pristine countryside of Liddington was like two different worlds. My early experiences in Liddington was as "the kid from London", therefore I was expected to be tough, regardless of the fact that I was only 3 ½ years old at the time. No matter ....by the time I was 5 or 6 I was expected to fight every new boy my age who came to Liddington. Most were sons of farmhands who only stayed a short time in Liddington while working for farmer Bill Hughes and living in one of the houses he owned. As my mates, Sid Bishop, Charlie Smith and Johnny Butcher would goad the new kid into fighting by pointing at me and saying "he's from London" as if this gave me some sort of magical powers and they were obligated to fight me. Luckily, most of the goading came to an end without any damage and a sigh of relief from me.

Visits to London

As if to remind me that this could not last, I occasionally returned to my family in London for brief visits, usually at Christmas time. On one visit, Hitler sent a special "welcome home" gift, a V-2 rocket, which one of his henchmen delivered to some unfortunate neighbors about two blocks away. It left our house a shambles and me covered in broken glass. In subsequent visits, I noticed even fewer houses on my street. I also noticed that many now slept in a monstrous iron contraption called an Anderson Shelter that was about 2 ft. high off the ground and you entered it by lying down and rolling into it. An iron coffin is an apt description.

Going Back

It must have been in 1945 and just another day at school for me, a 9 year old, in a building that is now the village hall, when thunder struck as an official looking stranger sat huddled with the teacher, glancing occasionally in my direction. I sensed impending doom. Shortly thereafter I was heading back to London, back to a home I never new, back to a cold, dank, neighborhood of strangers who spoke with a different sound. I soon became the odd kid with the thick country accent in a school of displaced kids from bombed out neighborhoods. We struggled to survive, hating every day. Brutal teachers who spent much of each class dealing out corporal punishment as if WE had caused the war and destruction. I longed for an end to this nightmare.

Return to Liddington

My misery was felt by my mother who arranged for me to go back to Liddington, back to my real family, back to life. What must have been relief to me, was short lived. After two years in my beloved Liddington, I was sent back to London and back to the misery of daily challenges and back to praying for something new. My older sister was to later recall that there had been some discusses between my mother and Mrs. Prismall about the Prismall's adopting me but my mother couldn't bring herself to agree to it. My unhappiness continued until a new day came in 1954 when I left for America. I was again, a stranger in a new place.

With all of life's twists and turns, I never forgot the happiest days of my life in Liddington. I often wonder what would have happened if I had stayed and grown up in Liddington. Maybe I wouldn't have traveled and experienced the world as I have but maybe I would have been happier and more content. There are no replays in life.

The Prismall Family

I also wonder about the Prismall's, Mildred and Jack. I never knew their backgrounds. I think he was a native of Liddington but Aunt Millie was from somewhere else. They seemed to have very few family members. How must they have felt raising a child for eight years only to have him go back to a place he didn't want to be. Why did they agree to open their home to my sister Jean and me and another evacuee named Barbara Alexandria. Were they heeding the call of a nation at war, a longing to have children that they never had or some combination of both. I deeply regret not visiting them more often, not writing to them more often, not staying in touch, not caring enough to see if they had everything they needed in their twilight years. I took their compassion and love for granted. I showed a lack of appreciation and caring, I was too self-absorbed in me.

Thanks to Sid

Thanks to my friend of 67 years, Sid Bishop, I am able to maintain contact with the people and the village of Liddington. I envy his life in such a wonderful place. I know that he, his wife Marge and their two children Julie and Paul appreciate the little slice of heaven known as Liddington, I hope that everyone who lives there appreciates it and protects it.