大象传媒

On March 13th we had our worst night when the Germans dropped sea-mines which were intended for the Mersey shipping but they descended by parachute and the wind blew many over Birkenhead. My old school- a stone鈥檚 throw from home, was a large Victorian building, three storeys high. It had a direct hit from one of those monsters and, together with several surrounding houses, was wiped off the face of the earth. The tragedy was that 25 young recruits to the army were billeted in it.

The following day there was chaos everywhere: the streets were covered with broken glass from windows and there were many gaps where houses had stood; but at the bank it was business as usual and during the day one of our customers asked to see the Manager. He was a well-known musician in the town 鈥� a fine teacher of the piano and the violin and choirmaster of one of the town鈥檚 choirs. He carried a battered violin case, which, with tears in his eyes, he showed Mr Rimmer. In it was a Stradivarius violin, shattered into a thousand pieces. In those days, though valuable, it was not necessary to keep 鈥楽trads鈥� in bank vaults as it is today, and our musician had it at home where he played it frequently. His home nearby had received a direct hit and he and his wife had been saved as they sheltered under his large Bechstein grand piano, but the violin was not so lucky.

However, he came in about six months later, looking much happier, and showed the Manager a perfect violin! He had taken the ruined Strad to an expert restorer in London who had actually broken down when he saw the shattered instrument, but with miraculous skill had pieced it together again so that it looked perfect and our customer said that it sounded better than ever.

He then brought it through into the office to show us this near miracle. We were all very keen on classical music and Mr M. asked us what we would like him to play on it. Our young junior, known to us as 鈥楪ussie鈥�, said 鈥淧lease, sir, will you play some of the Mendelssohn Violin Concerto?鈥� So there in the dusty old office, surrounded by large ledgers, cash and old-fashioned pass-books, we heard the haunting, delicate strains of that beautiful music. We were in the middle of a devastating war with death and destruction all around us, but for a few marvellous minutes we were carried away by the sound of that wonderful, re-born instrument.

This story was collected by Lis Edwards and was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by Becky Barugh of the 大象传媒 Radio Shropshire CSV Action Desk on behalf of Mrs Margaret James. The story has been added to the site with her permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

See more of Margeret's stories:

• 1) September 3rd 1939 鈥� A definitive date in history, was a golden autumn day鈥�
• 2) 鈥淭he invasion has started!鈥�
• 3) An incendiary bomb dropped down our bedroom chimney!
• 4) By then, Dad had perfected our air-raid shelter
• 6) Feathers fell like snow
• 7) The Wizard鈥檚 Den was one extraordinary exception
• 8) After the frantic years of the Blitz
• 9) Falling asleep in their food
• 10) It was bedlam!
• 11) Hardly Appropriate
• 12) Unsung Efforts

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