In the final part of Dennis Johnson’s memories as an evacuee during the Second World War, DAVID MILLS hears how he came close to losing his younger brother.
It was when we were dragging branches across a field that my brother John started to feel the pain of his infected appendix.
Even though the farmer knew my brother was in pain he wouldn’t let him rest.
I got very little sleep as we shared a single bed and he was groaning all night with pain.
Finally he was allowed to stay in bed, but they did nothing to help him.
It is almost beyond belief that anyone can be so callous as to let a young boy suffer so much pain from appendicitis for so long and never bothered to call a doctor.
On the fourth day I’d had enough.
I sneaked out early one Sunday morning to my grandmother’s, who had recently moved into a nearby farm.
I said he was in great pain and talking nonsense, so she returned to the farm with me.
She phoned for an ambulance and got him to hospital.
He was rushed straight into the operating theatre.
It was touch and go.
His appendix had burst, he was now suffering from peritonitis.
My brother was in hospital for three months.
He was lucky to be alive, I don’t know what I would have done if he had died.
When he was discharged he went to live with my grandmother and sisters, but to my great disappointment I was left on the farm.
I felt drained physically and mentally by all that had happened.
All of this affected my school work.
My headmaster asked if anything was troubling me.
Suddenly I couldn’t keep it all bottled up inside of me anymore, it all came pouring out.
He slowly coaxed the story out of me.
What I didn’t realise was that his secretary was taking it all down in shorthand and it was sent to the authorities.
They decided to prosecute the farmer for cruelty to my brother and I.
He was found guilty and fined eight pounds.
I went to live with my grandmother until I was 14-years-old.
You cannot imagine the relief I felt finally getting away from that farm.
The whole rotten experience caused me to have bouts of depression for a long while.
I never have or ever will forget those years on that farm.
AFTER THE WAR
Dennis, now aged 80 and a grandfather-of-four, lives in Shirley Road, Sidcup, with his 74-year-old wife Gladys.
He returned to London, moving to Lewisham when he was 14 and helped repair bomb damage to buildings.
Then he became a steam train driver for Southern Railways, before he enlisted in the army and went to fight in Malaya and Korea from 1947 to 1953.
Since marrying Gladys in 1954, they have both had a daughter, Wendy and a son, Robert.
His brother John went on to work for an engineering firm based in Hither Green.
He now lives in Clacton-on-Sea.
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