THEY came from all across the country, from as near as Coventry and Birmingham and as far as Essex and Merseyside.

With luggage-label name tags tied to their lapels and clutching their gas masks, children arrived on the railway platforms of Tamworth excited, confused and tired.

In November 1940, the Herald published an article headlined "10,000 evacuees arrive".

It told readers that: "When a train arrives in the area it is the duty of the local authority to attend to the billeting and reception of the evacuees."

Ron Mandeville, who was evacuated from Kent, told the Herald how he had been sent to the safety of Fazeley.

"In 1940 I was living in the Kent town of Birchington, which is about three-and-a-half miles from Margate," he revealed in 2003.

"But Hitler's Luftwaffe were making these dangerous times in the south, and schoolchildren were being evacuated to 'places of safety'.

"We were all taken to the station and put on to special trains. We had haversacks on our backs and large labels attached to our clothing. In addition, we had to carry gas masks at all times.

"It must have been an extremely traumatic time for our parents, particularly mothers who had already said goodbye to their husbands and were left alone to face the departure of their children to an unknown destination and an uncertain future."

Ron said he had no idea where he was going.

"For most of us it was the longest train journey we'd ever made; and some had probably never been on a train before.

"At first it seemed like some kind of adventure, but it was terrible to suddenly find the family split up in various parts of the country.

"On the outskirts of London we saw the barrage balloons over the city, but it was impossible to tell where we were. All the names had all been removed from the stations.

"My elder brother and I were sent with our respective schools to Staffordshire.

"He went to Uttoxeter...and I went to Fazeley.

"Eventually we were taken to a school hall where a meal had been prepared for us.

"By the time we arrived in Fazeley it was pitch dark and we were tired out.

"We were taken to the village school for the allocation of billets.

"I'll never forget that night, sitting there waiting while people came to choose the children they were prepared to accommodate.

"Some wanted a little girl, some wanted a boy. Attempts were made to keep brothers and sisters together.

"All the pretty little girls and nice-looking boys were taken first and, gradually, the room was emptying until there were no foster parents left.

"I sat there alone, dejected. No one had wanted me... in fact, no one had looked at me!

"Then the door opened and in came a little man. There was a discussion with the billeting officers and teachers, and finally they introduced me to this man.

"You'll be all right, son, you're going to the fish and chip shop."

"But I was too tired to be very excited about anything.

"At first I had difficulty in understanding what they were saying, but they were anxious to make me feel at home."

Some evacuees had arrived before war had even been declared, as the government's pre-set plans swung into action.

When war broke out, the process was speeded up.

In the first four days of September 1939, nearly three million people were transported from Britain's towns and cities. Even more followed after the onset of the blitz.

They continued in a steady stream throughout the war.

In 1940, 518 children from Broadstairs in Kent arrived in Tamworth, followed by 294 from London.

The next year 81 children were evacuated from Liverpool to Tamworth.

Across the area, the community pulled together to look after the children.

In Tamworth the vicar, Rev Arthur McCreery Coxon, greeted the evacuees as they arrived in the town.

The youngsters were taken to the Marmion Street Clinic to be examined and treated before being billeted.

Elsie Bramble Taylor, head of Tamworth Girls High School, took on the role of billeting officer, offering tact and sympathy alongside the calm authority that came from years in education.

In the villages around Tamworth the same scene was playing out.

The people of Kingsbury took in 60 youngsters from Coventry in June 1939. Later in the war they would also take in 24 from Nechells in Birmingham and 25 from Bethnal Green in London.

Hurley Hall became a centre for billeting. Wilnecote Parish Hall served a similar role.

Mining families of Wood End took in 20 evacuees.

Families in Drayton Bassett took in youths from Leigh-on-Sea in Essex.

Everywhere local families tried their best to make the children feel at home.

A set of letters, which form part of a study of evacuation by Bedfordshire libraries, give an insight into the life of an evacuee in Tamworth.

George Shephard Johns, a grammar school pupil from West Bromwich, was 12 when war was declared on Sunday, September 3, 1939.

Three days later he was on his way to Tamworth, as one of the first wave of evacuees.

He was to stay at Mayfield Nursing Home, in Upper Gungate, for three months.

A week after arriving he replied to a letter from his parents, saying: "We're going to start school on Monday next. We had the list of our new books this morning and I shall need a lot of books from home such as: an Atlas.

"I might need my bathing costume as we're going to the baths on some afternoons.

"We went to the pictures on Wednesday night."

In a later letter he told his parents: "Nurse Fields said she was going to write to you because Brian pushed me out of bed."

Nurse Field, who worked at the home and looked after the evacuees, later wrote to George after he had returned to West Bromwich.

His mum had died and she wrote offering her sympathies.

"I was pleased to get your letter today, but so sorry to hear the news," she wrote.

"You had an excellent mother and I am sure you will all miss her very much.

"We were hoping that in the summer your father and mother would have a trip to Tamworth but this awful war has altered everything for everybody.

"Tamworth has 500 children evacuated here and last Saturday came the same number of mothers and their children from London who have been bombed out of their homes.

"The outskirts have had bombs but nearly all of them fell in fields, but Tamworth itself has suffered no damage whatever up to now.

"We get the sirens and we can hear the anti-aircraft guns going off at Birmingham and Coventry.

"We have four beds made up in the cellar and the two girls and my daughter's two children from London sleep down there. It is much better than having to get them up every time the siren goes."

The cost of keeping the evacuated children wasn't cheap.

The parents of billeted children were expected to contribute 6 shillings a week. For older children, this figure rose to as high as 10 shillings and six pence.

The children had brought with them very little.

Most evacuees were given a strict list of what they could take: for boys, two vests, two pairs of pants, a pair of trousers, two pairs of socks, six handkerchiefs and a pullover.

Girls were allowed to take a pair of knickers, a petticoat, two pairs of stockings, six handkerchiefs, a slip, a blouse and a cardigan.

The influx of evacuees to the area was so great that it put a strain on the water supply.

By 1944, as the Allies advanced towards Berlin, the government announced the end of the evacuation programme.

The children who remained in Tamworth returned to their homes and families.

It was the end of a remarkable era. The area's homes had been filled with the sounds of children.

They had arrived frightened and confused, but the people of Tamworth had taken them to their hearts.

They left with memories that many cherish to this day.