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I can recall a particular incident that occurred on the 21st October 1940, and about eight minutes to eight on that day I was at home with my Mother, and the practice was that my parents used to go to the shelter over night, but my older brother Charlie (who was three years older than me) he was enjoying himself at the local cinema; and I was at home cleaning a new cap badge.

Just pretty well at that time the sirens went, and within a short time we heard the vibration of the German aircraft. The sound by the way is an irregular pulsation, and you can tell it’s Gerry because that’s the way it was.

On this particular occasion he dropped three bombs. Two on Hampstead Heath (which was about half a mile from our house) and one unfortunately rained on or house. Usually when a bomb is falling you can hear it whistling as it makes its descent, but strangely, this one wasn’t whistling at all — well, we couldn’t hear it anyway.

In a split second timing I grabbed my Mother, pushed her into the corner on to a cooker — which happened to be in that part of the room and fortunately, the door leading to the hallway, blew off in the explosion, and pinioned itself between us and the corner of the room. This was rather fortunate as when all the debris came raining down, we were saved because it hit the door and we were saved from further injuries.

After a short time the neighbours came round shouting and calling, and I called out and they pulled a bit of rubble away, and I got myself and my Mum out.

When we looked around of course everything was dark and dirty, and your mouth is full of dust and everything. We had a bit of lighting from just outside the house, and that was the gas main that had gone and had set on fire, just a bit farther along we had another situation where a water main had burst and so we had a big pile water shooting up in the air, and also a fire at the same time!

I took my Mum and we went to the shelter, and I remember staying there overnight, but when I woke up in the morning I was still shaking.

I phoned my office and explained what had happened, and I was given three days special leave. The council people were catering for these situations all over the place and we were housed temporarily in the ‘Golders Green Synagogue’ based in Hodford Road in Golders Green. We stayed there for about six weeks, and they accommodated us very well until the council found us a home in Hoop Lane, which is close to the Golders Green Crematorium. Actually we moved there in November 1940, and stayed there until about October 1941, during that period of time our house was re-built and we went back to live in it.

I must admit the council at the time were very good, and very organised. If they got reports of anybody being bombed out or anything like that- they’d come to you and help you make alternative arrangements. These were on-going problems at the time.

This story was submitted to the People’s War site by Becky Barugh of the ´óÏó´«Ã½ Radio Shropshire CSV Action Desk on behalf of Bill Kendall and has been added to the site with his permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

See more of Bill's stories:

• A White-Faced Inspector
• Chipolatas and Chips
• Doody
• Given a bit of cheek
• High-Tailed it home
• How it all began
• I was BKFJ434
• ’Let him go and let him tarry’
• Oranges and Lemons
• Rotten Bananas
• Waste not, Want not
• It was coming straight for me
• Using more of my nine lives
• Tiny and Shiny
• Free post
• Time just came and went
• No. 1 London

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