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| (NOT John Hutton's house!) |
John Hutton’s mother died when he was only five years old, leaving him to live with his widowed father and his grandmother in a big old house in Colchester, Essex, England. One day in July of 1940 when he was seven, John’s father informed him he would be leaving for Canada in three days. He asked where Canada was and whether he’d be able to speak the language. His Uncle Leslie showed him on a map where he’d be going—to Toronto where people spoke English and where he’d be near Niagara Falls, the largest waterfall in the world.
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| Niagara Falls |
Years later, John would recall his father taking him and his rucksack to the train station where he joined several other children embarking on the same journey. None of them had any comprehension of how far they would be traveling or for how long they’d be gone, but John felt the vision of his hometown receding into the distance staying with him throughout his five years in Canada.
The children waited in London through the Battle of Britain, and the gunfire overhead confirmed their parents’ decision was a good one. After they finally took the train to Liverpool, John boarded the troop ship SS Oronsay for Halifax. The crossing took two weeks, which were filled with lifeboat drills and activities organized by the CORB staff (Children’s Overseas Reception Board) who accompanied them. Among his memories are the massive ships in their convoy, the long series of tunnels they walked to reach the Halifax train station after disembarking, and the lower platforms of Canadian train stations that required them to carry their luggage up several steps into the cars. Big steps for a seven-year-old.
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| SS Oronsay |
The journey to Toronto took four days and three nights, and John was impressed by the endless forests and lakes, relieved only by small clusters of wooden buildings. He and the other children were stumped when, at every stop, they were greeted by loud cheers from Canadians.
John settled in with his foster family but grew increasingly withdrawn, concerning both his foster parents and his father back home with his fibs and minor misdemeanors. When his foster family moved away a year later, John was taken in by the Pellett family in the village of Agincourt. Here, he fitted in nicely and found himself at home with foster parents whose families descended from Britain and their two young children.
Soon, John was calling Mrs. Pellett “Mother” and keeping his two fathers separate by referring to his foster father as “our daddy” and his father as “my daddy.” He feared that “My Daddy” would be called up as a soldier and have to leave Colchester.
John was constantly in trouble at school for being inattentive and the Pelletts knew he worried about the war. John grew so anxious that in March 1942, they took him for examination to the Sick Children’s Hospital. Doctors agreed John was worried about the war and there was nothing they could do. When Mr. Hutton’s job was declared war work and the danger of his inscription faded, John settled down. He stayed busy with school, church groups, Cubs, and friends. Though frequently plagued with illness as various anxieties arose, John eventually settled in with improved grades.
In July 1945. John left behind the foster family he’d grown to love and returned home, a tall, heavy, twelve-year-old wearing long pants and carrying a fountain pen gifted to him by his school in Canada. Later, John admitted that it took him a full three years to feel at home in England again.
