大象传媒

It was December the 12 1940,a bitterly cold day when my brother Geoff and I went to the early evening show at the Heeley picture Palace,Mickey Rooney,I remember.Half way through a notice appeared teling us the sirens had sounded and anyone wishing to leave should do so.We had expereienced too many false alarms in the past to be too responsive to this one,besides there were some girls watching us,what would they think if we skulked off.

When the picture came to its conclusion we got up and left with nothing out of the ordernary until we got the the foyer which was full of people crying.Our Geoff said the picture wasn't all that sad so what are they all crying about.We soon found out when there was a terrific screaming noise and a huge bang,it was the bomb which fell on Chesterfield road.

We started running like a couple of frightened hares up Chesterfield road until we saw Ponsfords window suddenley bulge out,we turned on our heels and dived headlong under a lorry.We were there only a few minutes when I felt a terrific tug on my legs,it was an enormous policeman,who picked me up like a rag doll and carried me to the air raid shelter under the railway arches at Heeley leaving Goeff lying there.

The polceman stood guard on the door in case somebody decided to leave he was trembbling,probably from shock,but I eventualy managed to get my wits about me and tell him that my brother was lying under that lorry.He looked absolutely terrified knowing he had to go out again,but he did,and brought Geoff back,still unconcious from hitting his head.

When the all clear sounded everybody calmly left the shelter only to be met by the most horrific sights of carnage and destruction,a carbonised body holding the upright on the boarding platform of a tram.Wild eyed people waiting patiently to get water from a burst main in a bomb crater.

We staggered up Chesterfield road where we were met by our mother who looked like a caged animal from worry,the relief on her face and body when we hove into sight can only be experienced by a mother.

My granmother,who had a big house on Broadfield road came to stay with us after the blitz and told us her story.

She had got out of bed to go to the toilet during which time,although she didn't know it because she had become senile,an incendiary bomb had gone through three floors into the cellar passing through her bed on its descent.She told how beautiful the ceiling looked with the blue sky,actualy it was a beautiful clear night with a full moon.

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