"They evacuated the London school kids again ‘cause he concentrated on London pretty much this next time. And so, once again, the kids were rounded up and this time we went to Torquay in Devonshire in the west coast of England. Actually, quite an elegant town. And this time my brother was older so he and I went to together. And we wound up being billeted with an old couple who were eking out a meager living running a small—very small farm.
But it was an unhappy situation. They really only took us in for the money. But of course I was older, and even more objectionable. Started to protest to my poor mother a lot in postcards—very ungrammatical and misspelled postcards. But pouring to London.
'Get me out of here! I don’t like it. I want to go home.' And of course the government very much discouraged that. But my mother, being the good soul she was, she paid our way back."