MIDDLETON ON THE WOLDS HERITAGE

Schooling During the War

Schooling continued during the war years, with children taking gas masks to school. The head teacher also became an air raid warden, responsible for getting people into air raid shelters and enforcing the blackout.

Winter Challenges

One winter, the whole village was snowed in, and the school was closed for six weeks. This gave the children a fantastic opportunity to enjoy sledging in the local fields. During the winter of 1942-43, the village was snowed in for six weeks. It was lovely and sunny by day, perfect sledging weather. All roads to the village were blocked. Men reported to the P.O. with a spade to get their dole money and had to dig the village out. The wind blew, and the snow filled in the roads again. Living in the Wolds, everyone kept a good supply of flour and yeast. Soda bread was the order of the day.

This was also the year that the train got stuck at Enthorpe! Find out more at our disused Railway station, Heritage Trail Hare.

Transportation Issues

Due to the high price of petrol during the war, there were problems getting to secondary school in Bridlington. For some children, this involved getting a lift at 6:30 am in a milk van to Driffield Station. Getting home was often by train, which luckily stopped at Middleton Station (Hare Point 3).

Source: Sheila Ledgard/WW2 People’s War available online at BBC History.

Evacuated Children Sent to Middleton

Evacuated Children Sent to Middleton

During World War II, the government decided to evacuate vulnerable children from cities likely to be bombed to safer rural areas. Middleton on the Wolds was designated as one such safe area. This movement of children was called Operation Pied Piper and involved significant organisation, with the children arriving at Middleton Station.

The billeting officer in charge was the head teacher. So many children arrived from Sunderland that they initially had to share the school, taking turns to use the village hall. There were also evacuees from Hull. Villagers were paid a small amount to clothe and feed the children.

If anybody has any stories passed on from families who hosted refugees, please get in touch.

A Family’s Story

In one family’s story, Jenny Walker recalls two German prisoners of war who worked on the farm. Both Germans were regularly invited to the farm for the evening singalong in the front room. A fiddle was borrowed from Billy Barker who lived at Pondside. It must have been quite a cozy scene, but the music was interrupted when a flashlight was spotted! The POWs had to run back to their lodgings across a field to dodge the air-raid warden! One of the POWs returned years later in the year that England won the World Cup to say thank you.

Kathleen’s Nostalgic Recollections

Listen to a personal account from Kathleen Roes account as she speaks to K. Kaye and E. Naylor in 2025. Kathleen shares her memories of Middleton Hall during the war, focusing on her father’s friendship with a German prisoner of war named Ulrich von der Ostern. Ulrich, who spoke fluent English, was allowed to visit Kathleen’s home twice a week for tea. Kathleen fondly recalls listening to the radio and having stories read to her by Ulrich. After the war, Ulrich returned to Germany but maintained correspondence with Kathleen’s family. He worked for an aircraft company, which allowed him to visit England periodically. Despite the passage of time and the death of Kathleen’s parents, Ulrich continued to send Christmas cards until his own death, which coincidentally occurred on Christmas Eve.

Transcript of the Audio –

About Middleton Hall and the war, right? Well, as I say again, I was born in 40 so I recall very distinctly the prisoners of war at Middleton because my father worked on a farm at Eastwoods, which was up water Road in Middleton, and whilst working there, at one time, the prisoners of war, some prisoners of war were farmed out to Eastwood’s farm up water Road, like I said. And one of the prisoners, my dad, got very, very friendly with, very friendly with, for the simple reason that this young man could speak English. He was Ulrich von der Ostern, a very well off German family who had been in America, the father and mother of Ulli at this prisoner of war Ulley, he was only about 20. There was a very young man, very tall, very slim, blonde, very, very nice young man. But as I’ve told you, his language skills were wonderful because he’s fluent, spoke fluent English, the reason being that his parents had taken them to America for some reason or another. Do not know why, but he came back to Germany. He was put into the Air Force, into flying, and he came down in England, and therefore was a prisoner of war. Was brought to Middleton, and that’s how my father encountered him. But I know Ollie very well, because my father, because they could speak together English, he went to the hall and got the head of the hall to allow Ullrich, as he is, was his proper name, but ully to us, u double, o, y, ully to come to our house or his tea twice a week, so on a Tuesday and a Thursday after the working at the farm all day, my dad, as I said earlier, had a motorbike. He would bring Ollie home and pillion on his motorbike and to our house for tea, but the stipulation was that he had to be back at Middleton Hall at nine o’clock PM. In the evening.

He was allowed to stay with my dad and family as long as my dad got him back up to the hall Tuesday and Thursday for nine o’clock so my mum fed early, and she was a very good pastry maker, and she did his tea on with ours. My brother, John, myself, Mum, Dad and Ollie every Tuesday and Thursday, and early I can so remember sit after tea, sitting on his knee. My brother and I had to go to bed at seven o’clock. We had to be in bed at seven o’clock. But at quarter to seven, till seven o’clock, there was a station on the radio called Dick Barton’s Special Agent. And we listened to Dick Barton’s Special Agent sitting on Ollie’s knee. And it finished at seven, like I’ve said, and then my brother and I had to scamper ups. We were already in our night clothes. We had to scamper upstairs to bed, but before Dick Barton, Special Agent Ollie would read to us. Now, my brother John liked Rupert bear so John always had Rupert bear book, and early had to read Rupert bear to John. But me, I didn’t want that. I wanted Enid Blyton. So there was an Eden Blyton weekly comic thing, a little book thing that mum got for me and early would read Enid Blyton a chapter or a page or two of Enid Blyton to me before Dick Barton, special agent.

Now, time went on and then early, and this went on for as long as Ully was was a prisoner of war, and then the war ended, and only was going back home again. And so he went, I had made friends with the farmer the Eastwood and other people in the area, because I think before he went to Eastwood. He’d worked at a different farm, but he was a very intelligent mom and very easy to get on with, very likable and so well he had made other friends anyhow, away, he went back home again, and he continued to his English, as I said, was perfect. So he wrote to mum and dad, always, always. Was a Christmas card, always a letter, and it came over. He went to work for the Luftwaffe. Was the German war planes. Forgotten what the air company was. I just cannot remember. I know it off the tip of my tongue, but he went to work for an aircraft company in in Germany and and so consequently he got every other year, every alternate year, he could come over to England on either a free or a much cheaper ticket, because of working for this company. I just can’t remember what it was. But anyhow, so we saw Ollie, even though we were grown and everything, and it was absolutely wonderful. Then mum, mum died, Ullie continued to write to me, and it was super.

I just want to tell you this other little thing concerning Ullie. He always sent Christmas card, even though mum and dad had passed away. I, as mum and dad’s daughter, continued always to send early a Christmas card. And ully always sent one to me, to Colin and me, who were married, and one year we it was, it was Christmas Eve, and we were at friends in drift here, my husband and I Colin, we were at friends in drewfield Having a meal. I can’t think how long ago it would be, maybe 15 years ago. And I suddenly realized that the lady whose housework was German by birth, she married an Englishman, and they both taught at drewfield School, which was why we were friends. Anyhow, it was Christmas Eve, and we were there, and I suddenly realized we hadn’t got a Christmas card from ulley. And it stuck in my mind. I said to Colin, do you realize we haven’t got this Christmas card? And he said, Yeah, but the strangest thing happened, because after New Year, we got a communication from Ulrich, his sister, who had lived in South Africa, she must have gone up to all his home, because he was always a bachelor. He never married. And it said, when we got the community, very sorry to let you know that our brother Ulrich has died, and that lad died on Christmas Eve. It was so strange. On Christmas Eve, at that dinner party of the German girl who was giving it friends of ours, I suddenly realized we hadn’t got the Christmas card, and it was Christmas Eve when I realized and it was Christmas Eve that Ulrich passed away.

Entertainment

From chatting to our residents, we have discovered that home entertainment involved sitting around the piano for a good old sing-song, with the curtains drawn of course. The blackout was checked by the local air raid warden and was intended to prevent German aeroplanes from bombing the village.

Social Gatherings

The Reading Room became the place for social gatherings and for playing card games. There were lots of dances held in nearby villages, although the local girls had to fight off the competition from a large number of land-girls. One of them was Iris Newbauld, nee Faulkner, who was stationed at North Dalton. Iris loved to tell stories of village dances, where “for sixpence or a shilling, we could dance our legs off in Land Army brogues. A perfect match for the farm boots our partners wore. I remember the lovely refreshments provided by the village ladies. Even with food rationing, they still provided deep apple pies filled with cloves. We had crusty homemade bread with pork dripping if someone had killed a pig. We had to wash by the light of a candle or oil lamp and if we were lucky, we would have one jug of warm water each. I often arrived at dances with threshing dust in corners I could hardly see in the dimly lit mirror.” Iris sadly passed away in 2022 at the age of 97.

Changes in Pub Culture

Geoff Wisher records that women began to visit pubs more, and that the Rose and Crown became the preferred pub for younger people in the village, while the older people preferred the Robin Hood.