大象传媒

EVACUATION
As I lived on the "safe" side of the North Circular Road ,in Hendon, I had not been evacuated at the outbreak of war.The first air raid warning,albeit a false alarm, on that first Sunday in September probably prompted my parents to take action and a few days later 3 of my cousins and I were loaded onto an open lorry and set off to my aunt in Bedford.There must have been a communication breakdown, as my aunt was not to pleased at our arrival and the next day we returned home!
SCHOOL
In the first weeks of the war the schools were closed and we had lessons from visiting teachers in groups in each others front rooms.After a while though normality returned as the threat of air-raids seemed to reside.
BACK GARDEN SHELTERS
We didn't qualify for the standard issue Anderson shelter so Dad bought a reinforced concrete model.
Sunk into the ground it wasn't much used even when night raids became frequent as it filled with water.
"Under the stairs" served as our bedroom when the sirens disturbed our slumbers.
The lone Bomber was a frequent occurence and presumably having missed its target and lost its way the plane would unload a stick of bombs at the nearby Cricklewood railway sidings navigating by the Welsh Harp Reservoir on moonlit nights.
Familiarity breeds contempt and on such a night comfortable in our back room we stayed put despite the easily recognisable sound of the lone German plane.A bomb landed a couple of doors away bringing the soot down our chimney as I dived under the Dining room table.
We suuffered no physical harm but had to leave the house,which was unsafe, and go and live with my Grandma in West Hendon.
Whilst living there many a night was spent in her back garden Anderson shelter together with my cousins ,especially during the "fire bomb" raids , whilst the Dads dealt with the magnesium incenderies using stirrup pumps and sandbags.
After a few months the intensive raids ceased ,our house was repaired and we returned home.
TRAGEDY
Not long after our return there was no air-raid alert when we heard a lone plane and the whistle of the descent of a large bomb or land-mine which landed in my Grandma's back garden.My Grandparents were killed and the devastation caused to the rows of terraced houses was widespread.
It was the only time I saw my Dad cry.
I had many relatives in those streets but amazingly enough none were seriously injured.
I was allowed to visit the site a couple of days later and the A.R.P. where still at work in the wreckage.
They brought out the body of the old lady who made toffee apples for sale.
Atop the pile of rubble that had been my Grandma's house was a role of roofing felt that my Dad had acquired for repairs to Grandad's shed.
INDOOR SHELTERS
We now had a Morrison indoor shelter which occupied most of the back room.It was quite useful to play a form of "come-back" ping-pong except that you got a somewhat unpredictable bounce when the ball hit one of the protruding heads of the many large bolts used in its construction.It was so massive that I'm surprised it didn't go through the floorboards into the foundations below!
It came into it's own when the V-1 Buzz Bombs were launched as there was plenty of time to dive into it for shelter when the rasberry sound of the V-1 engine cut out.
On my own one afternoon, Mum and Dad were at work, I sat in it in some fear when a Buzz-Bomb seemed to cut out overhead.It landed not far away in Oxgate Lane just behind The STAPLES factory where my Mum was at work making springs for Sten guns.
V-2 ROCKETS
This last incident probably led to the decision to send me to my Grandad and Aunt in Blythe Northumberland during the Summer holidays.I came home after a few weeks for the start of term under the impression that the V-1 menace had ceased. So it was a bit of a shock when as I entered my road the lads in the street expressed surprise and told me all about the V-2 rockets that were now raining on London.
The very next day one landed on The Prince Albert Pub in Brent but that was the nearest they ever got to me.
So I was lucky and lived to tell this tale.
Reg Beckley

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