大象传媒

My claim to being a cockney is because I was born in Lower Clapham Road, Hackney in 1933. Two of my ancestors were married in St Dunstans Church, Stepney in 1796 and two others in St Mary Aldermarys Church in the City of London in1691. Two of my Ancestors were Freeman of The City of London, one in 1730 and one in 1759. So I think I have a good case, all places being 'within the sound of Bow Bells'
The first memory I have of WW2 was when I was taken by my parents to the local school for a gas mask fitting. It was a great occasion for all the kids, we were running around the hall frightening all the others with gruesome noises! The young babies had a special gas mask that looked like Mickey Mouse, they were put into it body and soul. They would then yell with all their might, it was a mad house.
When Hitler decided to bomb the air fields in the south of London, it so happened that we were living about five hundred yards from Hornchurch Aerodrome. Night after night the bombing continued unmercifully. All the schools were closed down and classes held in peoples homes, during this time all the school corridors were converted into shelters anbd strengthened and we were able to return.
I remember one occasion when an uncle came to stay; there was a daylight raid and we were all trooped down to the shelter. Even with the danger of shrapnel flying around we were tempted to come out and watch the dog fights between our Spitfires and the German planes. I can still remember the awful drone of one German plane, it was a terrifying noise. All of a sudden a pilot on a parachute was heading towards our garden, there was no way to tell which side he was on so my Dad and Uncle grabbed a couple of garden forks and stood at the ready! The pilot obviously thought better of his chosen landing and adjusted the cords to land somewhere else!
Another time we emerged from the shelter to find that our house was the only one standing in a row of twenty, it was in a bit of a state. my parents then decided to send my brother to stay with one Aunt and me to another. I ended up in East Ham of all places only a few hundred yards from the docks. Every night was again spent in the shelter that my Uncle and Aunt shared with neighbours. Some nights they had arguements and there was a strange atmosphere with everyone trying to avoid each other!
One night when we left the shelter there was an awesome sight which stays in my memory, as far to either side as one could see the sky was a red glow. It must have been as high as the clouds, it was the London docks ablaze. They had taken a terrible pounding, at that time a terrible disater took place nearby. There was a shelter in the cellars of an old Victorian school. It was big enough to take in about 600 people, several direct hits reduced it to rubble - only about 10 people survived. In the end the sight was filled in and concreted over.
My Mum came to collect us one day, Dad had found us a new house in Dagenham. The very first night there a land mine attached to a parachute landed in the street causing a mighty crater. We used to sleep under the stairs and I can still remember my Mum throwing herself over us as the sound of bombs screamed all around; a long drawn out whistle like a firework. All the kids in the street had a shrapnel collection and as soon as the 'all clear' sounded out we would all stream out into the street for shrapnel which was still red hot.
A special order was given out to say that if you were over half way to school and the siren sounded, you had to go onto the school shelters. Needless to say most kids even if they had reached the playground, chose to return home. The only trouble being that the German planes often fired off any surplus ammunition when passing over Dagenham on their way home!
My Dad was an A.R.P. Warden, on most street corners there were large brick water tanks for the use of the Fire Brigade. The local chief warden had his headquarters in a large concrete box affair by the side of them. There were also female wardens and on one occasion the local wives got it into their heads that something was going on during the nights! They all got together one night and raided the hut, all hell was let loose for several nights after that!
Every night the 'pom pom' guns, as we called them, toured the streets on the back of the lorries firing at enemy planes, they made such a noise. Searchlights were stationed in the local park and the area was covered in large barrage balloons.
The time came when it was felt that it the best thing to do was for my brother and I to be evacuated. We assembled, complete with large labels round our necks and gas masks, at eh local library along with about 100 other children. We were placed in a coach and then put onto a train and whisked off to, what appeared to us to be another country. In fact it was Whittlesea in Cambridgeshire. Mum and Dad had instilled itno us the importance of not being seperated, which meant that we ended up the last two to be homed. I can still remember being in this large room by ourselves.
On the way to the R.M.P. reunion in 2000 I called into Whittlesea and had a good look around, the hall where all the evacuees went to school was still there but was now a church. I called at the house we were in and spoke to the resident, even after 50 years he remembered the family who had lived there and told me all about what had happened to them.
After about two years in Whittlesea we returned home. I can remember the day the war ended, the Headmaster called us all into the hall and announced that Mr Churchill had declared two days of a general holiday, I can remember walking home shouting 'Good old Churchill'!

漏 Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.