A British Home Child in Canada 2-Book Bundle. Patricia Skidmore

the other room for tea. The man with the camera took a few more photos while they ate. It was all a little overwhelming: the special tea, the flashes from the camera, the happy adults. The children had no choice but to do as they were told.

      The September 1937 group of children were photographed at a final farewell tea party given for the children at the Fairbridge Hostel in Kensington, London, on September 9, 1937. Kenny is sitting on the floor in the front row, second boy from right, with Marjorie behind him to the left, her hand on his shoulder.

       University of Liverpool Archives, Special Collections Branch, Fairbridge Archives, D296.F4.

      The next morning the children were hurried through breakfast. There was much to do before leaving for Liverpool. First on the list was for everyone to pack a suitcase,[9] according to a checklist set up to make sure that each child had all the necessary items for the journey (see Appendix A). Then they needed to take the bus back to Canada House and have a final visit with a Canadian doctor.

      “Okay, now. What is your name?” Marjorie did not realize at first that she was being addressed. “Child, your name please,” she repeated.

      Marjorie pointed to herself, “Me?” she asked as she choked out a whisper. The woman nodded. “My name is Marjorie.”

      “Well, Marjorie. Come along with me. Let’s get your suitcase packed.”

      “My very own suitcase?”

      “Yes, now, let me see. What size would you be? Stand up here and let me take some measurements.” Marjorie relaxed with her soothing gentle voice. Soon the suitcase snapped shut. She told Marjorie that she was all set and she should take her case and line it up with all the rest. Marjorie looked down at the case. Her case! It had her name on it and everything. She wondered, would she get to keep this suitcase for her very own or would she have to give it back after she got to Canada?

      The twenty-eight children were marched out to board the bus back to Canada House. One by one they went in for their final shots and inspections. The first boy walked in boldly enough, but soon his howls created a panic. He came out a short while later, red-faced.

      The suitcase belonging to Kenny, Marjorie’s brother, was stored in the attic at a former Fairbridge house until 2006. The tattered labels show the departure port of Canadian Pier Head, Liverpool; the steamship, Duchess of Atholl, date of departure, September 10, 1937, landing port, Montreal; and the final destination, Cowichan, British Columbia.

       Photo by Patricia Skidmore.

      “Gor’ blimey, they jabbed me full of needles. Look at this, will ya!” he pulled up his sleeve to show his arm. As he saw the look on the other kid’s faces, his distress turned to a sense of pride and he quickly displayed his poke holes. “Just wait until they get you in there. The needles are gigantic. Ow, that’s me sore arm,” he cried out as a nurse whisked him away before he totally frightened the rest of the children.

      Marjorie was the second to last to go in. The waiting made her so tense that her breakfast was in danger of coming back up. Why were they doing this? She nearly fainted as the nurse jabbed and stuck her with the needles, but her tears stayed stuck behind her eyes. The doctor prodded, poked, and looked down her throat and then in her ears, asking questions all the while, and then the ordeal was over. The last girl in line looked at Marjorie’s face as she came out, “Oh, Marjorie, was it really awful?” Marjorie was unable to answer and she simply nodded her head.

      Restlessness was in the air as the morning dragged on. It was hard for the children to sit patiently and wait. Marjorie saw Kenny slumped in a corner. He looked sad and it was obvious that he was trying not to cry.

      “Leave him alone,” she warned a group of boys who had been bullying him. But they asked her what was she going to do about it. Marjorie felt powerless as she stuck out her tongue at them. She knew that Kenny would have to put up with the bullying. It was impossible for her to protect him. How had Joyce managed so easily? She worried that she would not be as good as her big sister at looking out for Kenny, but she would try to do her best.

      A nurse walked into the waiting room and clapped her hands. She announced that everyone should be all set to go now. They would be leaving shortly but first they would have an early lunch, and she passed around sandwiches and a bottle of milk for each one.

      Four adults were to travel with the children. Mr. E.S. Healy, headmaster of the Fairbridge farm school in Western Australia, and Mrs. Healy, who were returning to Australia via Canada, would accompany the children to Vancouver, British Columbia. Two other specially trained women would also travel as chaperones for the children until they reached Montreal. Once they landed in Montreal, two new chaperones would travel with them across Canada to their final destination.

      As they left Canada House, the children could once more see the tall statue at Trafalgar Square. A coolness in the air made them shiver and droplets of rain formed little dark spots on their cases. The walk back across Trafalgar Square differed from the previous walk such a short time ago. Now, at twenty-eight children, their numbers had more than doubled from the thirteen sent down from the Middlemore Home. Each child carried a suitcase. Twenty-eight arms ached from their jabs. No one climbed on the lions today. There was no happy chatter. The “little soldiers” solemnly marched across the square and headed for the Underground. This train would take them to Euston Station, where they would catch the train to Liverpool. A few appeared eager for the journey, but Marjorie was not one of them. She longed to be with her sisters. No one asked her if she wanted to go away. She felt afraid. She wanted Joyce.