Don’t Forget to Write
This is a charming and intelligent account of one woman’s memories of being “relocated” as a child in Great Britain during WWII. Hobbs’ first-person narrative brings an adult’s perspective to her childhood experiences, often in the form of simply and sadly wondering at herself for having been so self-absorbed, so thoughtless, so careless of others’ worries and sorrows—but she was, after all, a child, and she does a good job at capturing a child’s experience during an extraordinarily unsettling time. Interesting details abound about day-to-day living with increasing privation and the constant threat of bombs falling, and the narrative is told in a matter-of-fact way in which even the oddest or sometimes tragic circumstances are just shouldered and dealt with, in the quintessential British way. Written in quite serviceable prose which is occasionally dull, this memoir offers some thoughtful insights into how that “greatest generation” survived and absorbed experiences with a wisdom and humor that the children of the next generation would never quite grasp.