Much has been written of the experiences of those evacuees during the war years - children, mostly from the inner-city; easy targets during the German bombing campaign who were shipped off from their homes to 'foreign' lands and often left in a state of bewilderment and shock.
Taking a view from another angle, so to speak, and although a young child myself at the time, I can clearly recall the effect some of these evacuees had on the small town of Looe.
These 'children', far from being in a state of bewilderment, took the whole thing squarely on the chin, accepting the situation as just another challenge, quickly adapting their lives to suit their new environment - for which they deserve much credit.
We local children were (in comparison) at least five years behind the city kids in maturity - naive to the point of imbecility hardly describes how we must have appeared to the newcomers.
Schemes, obviously common practice in the city, left us locals in awe and without wishing to be unkind, our openness and honesty used against us time and time again.
Frequently, their bare-faced cheek and daring fooled shopkeepers and teachers alike; never in their wildest dreams could they have imagined such outrageous confidence tricks - leaving the local children 'holding the baby', getting away with clever ruses so many times. The details of which, although still so clear in my mind, probably better left unsaid.
I can well remember one 13-year-old lad (no names, no packdrill), arriving at school, cigarette in mouth, wearing a trilby and a 'detective' style raincoat, belt tied at the waist. He could have passed for 20 at least; a perfect Humphrey Bogart lookalike - Looe would hear from this individual again in the years to come.
To my mind, the evacuees had on their departure certainly left their mark on our little town, and I'm still to this day not absolutely certain who it was to be pitied more - them or us.
ROY WILLIAMS