The Evacuee

During the darkest days of World War 2, Britain stood alone to face hoards of German aircraft bent on bombing the country into submission. These attacks were so severe that the young and vulnerable were requested to leave the major towns and cities to seek relative shelter in the 'safer' parts of the land. Being only 13 years old I was one of those evacuated and thus began a chapter in my life that haunts me to this day. Let me tell you more.

I left my London home and headed with a train load of other children to a tranquil part of the country called the Cotswolds. Once there we were separated into smaller groups and sent on by bus to one of the many small towns and villages that adorned the hills and dales there. My town was called Stow-on-the-Wold. A law had been passed that required each household, that had room, to take in at least one evacuee so it must of been a sorry sight to see a gaggle of toddlers and children filing by in military style behind a man from the council, knocking on doors to seek refuge in one of the designated houses. One of the absurdities of it was that each householder could choose whom they wanted to take in, so of course the youngest and cutes were the first to be picked and so on until I was the last in line. And so it was for the first time in my life that I had the feeling of being alone and abandoned. All I wanted was to go home.

The man from the council must of of noticed my despair for he patted me on the head and said, 'Don't worry sonny there's Miss Hailsham, she'll take you in.' By the time we arrived at a row of stone cottages at the edge of town it was getting dark and I was very tired. The man from the council knocked on the door and a few moments later a middle-aged woman stood on the step. She was tall, thin and with thick rimmed gasses and her hair tied neatly behind her head she reminded me of the school mistress I left behind in London.

'Yes,' she said.

'This is your evacuee ... David I think it is,' the man from the council said as he looked at me for reassurance that he got my name right. I just nodded in agreement. 'Yes, it's David and I'm sure the pair of you will get along just fine.'

Miss Hailsham looked at me with an incredulous expression. 'But that's a man!' she cried.

'Come now Miss Hailsham, he's only 13,' came the reply.

'I don't care,' she retorted, 'I will only take a female. Absolutely no men. Such dirty creatures! Dirty habits! Dirty minds! No, I won't take him.'

It was then that an argument ensued that lasted for some time before Miss hailsham, fearing arrest, reluctantly agreed to take me in. It was not an auspicious start.

After this spat it came as no surprise that I was never meant to feel at home. In fact, Miss Hailsham went out of her way to make my life as uncomfortable as possible. She never spoke to me other than to scold me. She made sure that I was locked out of the house when I came home from school and was made to wait for hours on end in all weathers until I was allowed in. I had to eat my meals alone, sometimes in the coal scullery and once in the outside toilet after she got angry with me because I had spilt something over her spotlessly clean floor.

The only positive side of my situation was that I was pretty much isolated from the war. Of course we still had to stick rigidly to the blackout laws and the town was filled with people in uniform, but with that and rationing life carried on much the same as it did before. However, one night I was woken from my sleep to the sound of heavy-engined aircraft flying close by, the same sound that I had experienced while living in London - Germans! moments later the air-raid sirens wailed like a banshee from hell that only added to my distress. I sat up in bed and screamed. I had come close to death once before in a raid and I was once again stricken with fear. It felt as though my lungs would burst as I cried out. I was out of control and shaking with dread. Lost in a dark malaise I failed to see the door open and Miss Hailsham enter the room. I only noticed her when I heard her speak: 'what's all this noise for boy?' I looked up to see her standing over my bed. Her words seemed to snatch me from my delirium although I was still shaking from fear. With the light from a latern she was holding I could see that she was dressed in a white nightgown giving her an almost ghostly appearance and her hair was hanging loose around her shoulders. I had never seen her looking like this before.

With the sound of anti-aircraft guns resonating close by she sat herself down on the edge of the bed and ran a soothing hand over my head. Was this the real Miss Hailsham showing compassion? Although I hated her at that moment in time I needed her, even more so when I heard the whistle of a bomb falling in the distance before the room shook when it exploded making me gasp.

'There there ... don't worry,' she said, 'mummy's here.' I didn't understand what she was saying and at the time I did't care, for as she spoke she pulled me closer to her. There was comfort in the warmth of her body. As my head nestled between her breasts I could feel their softness on my face through the flimsy material. I was pulled tighter to her as she mumbled somethig about me being her baby and began rocking to and fro with me in her arms. Then she did something even more extraordinary: she undid the buttons of her nightdress and pulled out her left breast and once again pulled me towards her.

'Suck on it ... Go ahead suck.'

I did as I was told. I had never seen a naked breast before let alone touch one. My only knowledge in matters of sex came from the school playground where I heard tall stories of other boy's experiences. I let instinct take over.

As I sucked, my other had fumbled clumsily on her right breast. She responded with a sigh and began to rock to and fro again. 'That's it ... Mummy will look after you,' she said in a whisper. I was hard. I was confused. I was now oblivious to the sound of the battle raging outside and was instead lost in the pleasures of her body. What is more I noticed that her hand had disappeared between her legs and as she rubbed herself she groaned with delight. 'Mummy's here,' she again whispered although I didn't know whether she talking to me or just lost in a fantasy. Then she stopped and pushed me back to a lying position and tugged on my pyjama bottoms. She grabbed my erect penis and after she clambered over me she guided it into her. I felt as if I was going to explode. Never in my life had I experienced anything as sensuous as this. As she rode me I could feel her wetness on my thighs. But I couldn,t hold on. I cried out as burst after burst of my fluids was released inter her just as her rhythmic movements grew faster and faster culminating in a loud cry as she climaxed.

Miss Hailsham stopped and sat upright. She was breathing heavily and I could see sweat glistening on her skin. Her eyes pierced mine and as she inhaled a deep breath she climbed off of me and rearranged her clothing without a word being spoken. She looked at me again but this time I could see that it was through cold eyes. Her persona had changed.

'What on earth have done to me?' she said in a voice barely louder than a whisper. 'What have you done?' I didn't unerstand. 'What have you done?' she repeated this time in a much louder and threatening voice. I still didn't understand, after all it was she that came into my room, and it was she that initiated what had just taken place.

'You raped me!' she screamed. 'You fucking-well raped me!'

'No!' I protested but all to no avail as a flurry of blows rained down on me. She hit hard and unrelentlessly. Blow after blow found its mark until I was able to raise my arms to deflect the strikes.

'Get off of me.' I cried out as I finally managed to push her away. As I scrambled to get off of the bed she dashed to a cabinet draw and pulled out a long pair of scissors. I didn't have chance to escape. with lightening speed she caught me before I could make it to the door and was pulled down to the floor. When I looked up I saw a table lamp bearing down on me a split second before it struck a blow on the side of my head. Although I didn't loose consciousness I was groggy causing my senses and reactions to be impaired. Then I felt the weight of her body on my legs, whilst she once again tugged at pyjama bottoms.

'You'll pay for this, my boy!' she cursed as she squeesed my balls. I screamed. The pain was intense. 'You'll never defile another woman again. Men! Such dirty creatures! Dirty habits! Dirty minds!' Then I felt the cold steel of the scissors bite into my skin, my flesh, my tissue as I managed one more piercing scream before I passed out.

Fortunately for me a passing air raid warden had heard my cries and probably saved my life. However, I sometimes wish that he had left me to bleed to death or would have Miss Hailsham made sure that I would have lived if only to carry this curse around with me for the rest of my life? I was later told that she had been committed to a mental institution but was released shortly after the war. I've also heard that for some time she was still to be heard calling out in the night: 'Men! Such dirty creatures! Dirty habits! Dirty minds!