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LIVERPOOL BLITZ 1940

By Les Bell, 79 years, formerly of Kirkdale, now living in Formby

Liverpool, Advent 1940.

After several months of bombing, the Kirkdale area had taken a fair share of bombs. My elder brother was away and my younger sisters evacuated; at home, 24 Newman Street, were my father, mother, eldest sister, younger brother and myself.
As a teenager I was working in Liverpool City and got to know several Air Raid Centres. Except for the fact that I was a know-it-all at the age of 17, I don鈥檛 understand why anyone should have taken any notice of my opinion! My father had been a teenage Kings Liverpool infantryman in World War 1 and even though he was a Dock Pilot at bombing targets such as Sandon, Huskisson, Canada, Brocklebank and Langton Docks, his attitude to the Blitz was that it was lightweight compared with being shot at individually as a soldier. I told him that I knew of a bomb-proof shelter in town and he told me that the only bomb-proof shelters were at Bernafay Wood on the Somme, which the Pals had captured on 1st July, 1916.

Often, during air raids, my sister used to come home from work at Tillotsons, and after tea went to the cinema or dancing, and then to bed; my younger brother and his mates spent the nights frightening people with screeching bomb sounds; my mother would not go into the brick shelter in the street, with good reason as was later proved when it received a direct hit in the May 1941 Blitz.

For some reason, just before Christmas they all went along with my idea of spending the night in places of safety. About midnight the shelter was hit and went on fire, and we were shepherded out by the Royal Court Theatre 鈥� a fire engine had crashed into a bomb crater and the whole area was lit with searchlights and chandeliers. We were shown to different shelters in Elliot Street, Great Charlotte Street, Cases Street, and in my family鈥檚 case, Lewis鈥檚 in Ranelagh Street. I later learned that my sister had been playing the piano throughout the raid 鈥� Sonny Durband, Lewis鈥檚 resident pianist, had left his sheet music in the Music Department which at that time was in the shop鈥檚 basement.

We eventually got home to Newman Street to find that our house had been shattered by a bomb in the back yard; all the furniture was full of glass. We were ordered to a communal rest centre in Archer Street (now an organ works) and eventually joined hundreds of others in St. Theresa鈥檚 crypt.

Meanwhile I was told to find my younger brother. I went to his pal鈥檚 house in Great Mersey Street and found him playing cards by candlelight in the semi-basement with his back to a large window. His mate鈥檚 mother came down the stone stairway and said to her son, 鈥淏ill, put that shilling in the gas meter.鈥� He did that and put his hand under where the container should have been, and handed the bob back to ma 鈥� not a smile or a comment from the card players, just 鈥�15 for 2, 15, 4 and one for his nob.鈥�

It was years later when I was in Antwerp and a rocket hit the Rex Cinema killing 750 people during a matinee showing of Buffalo Bill 鈥︹�� and only recently I was told that at least the Germans tried to hit only military targets 鈥� ho hum, ho ho hum.

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