大象传媒

Air Raids

The first Blitz (air raid) on Cardiff happened in January 1941. When it was announced that the raid had started, my sister and I were in the Gaiety Cinema watching the film 鈥淣ight Train to Munich鈥� starring Rex Harrison - the result of this announcement was an empty cinema and people rushing home. When we arrived home, the raid was in full swing - there was no time to go to the Anderson Shelter in the garden, so Dad and I put Mother and my young brother in the cupboard under the stairs and Dad called over the wall to see if our elderly neighbours were okay. Mother wanted a candle and matches because she couldn鈥檛 see. I was looking for them when it 鈥榟appened鈥�. There was a sudden flash, the living room window blew in (glass and window frame everywhere and sash cords left hanging), there were flames in the air, the ceiling came down on my head and smoke filled the air.

Mother shouted from the cupboard, 鈥淲hat will the Landlord say?鈥� Dad came in and said, 鈥� Bugger the Landlord!鈥�. I turned to look at him, and he was standing there holding up his trousers- every button on his clothing had been ripped off with the force of the blast, taking pieces of cloth with them. To say he looked a sight would be an understatement - he looked so funny that I was laughing hysterically, but not for long, he slapped me across the face. That did the trick!

My friend died in that raid - the land mine that dropped hit their house and shelter, it was a direct hit. (The land mines were the same type of weapons as those used today, the difference being that they were dropped from the planes by parachute and exploded on contact with the ground. In many ways, these were more frightening than the other bombs, because you had no idea where they were going to land - they were completely silent.) We experienced the full extent of the blast, we didn鈥檛 have the time to feel sorry for ourselves, it was 鈥渁ll shoulders to the wheel鈥� to clear up the mess. We had many such raids, some worse than others.

At the time of another raid in Cardiff, I was at a concert in the Empire Theatre in Queen Street (there was a basement included when it was built, 鈥渏ust in case鈥� there was another war, it could be used as a shelter). The announcement was made that it had started - incendiary bombs were blazing and the Luftwaffe were dropping the heavy explosive bombs, one of which landed on the furniture store next to the theatre - it didn鈥檛 explode. Everyone left the theatre in an orderly manner, then ran as fast as they could away from the area. On my way home, I had to spread eagle flat on the pavement four times, when the screaming bombs dropped. When I arrived in City Road, which was not far from home, a Molotoff basket of incendiary bombs dropped and spread across the road - some fell on the church I attended and some on the building behind the Post Office. When I looked over the road, I saw my father - he shouted at me to get home quickly - in other words, get under cover. He was in the process of throwing drums of paint out into the road because the building was on fire. If the paint had been left there, the heat would have caused a terrific explosion. He risked his life - Why? you might ask, after all it was only a building, why risk losing a life for a pile of bricks and mortar? The building contained goods that were required for repairing Government buildings and my father worked for H.M.S. Office of Work (which was later renamed the Ministry of Works), and as with all places of employment, volunteers were firewatchers - he was one and I was one for my place of employment. I did two nights a week - we were taught what to do if incendiary bombs fell, using sandbags, stirrup pumps and wearing a tin hat for protection - this was 鈥渆xtra鈥� to normal full-time employment and was unpaid. That particular night, there was a terrible loss of life in the Grangetown area of Cardiff. The Luftwaffe were aiming for the docks area - people from the area around Corporation Road used to shelter in a basement underneath Hollimans Bakery, it received a direct hit. The devastation defies description. Needless to say, I shall never forget it.

As the raids continued, everyone realised that the raids were more frequent when the skies were clear and there was a full moon.

My mother and father decided on a plan of action ready for when the Warning siren (Air Raid Siren) sounded. We did not panic - if we were at the table eating, we were to put on our overcoats and walk out to the garden. Mother would put the dishes, etc., into a big enamel bowl and put it under the kitchen table. Dad would stand by the Anderson Shelter, we went in (in order of age!) - the two youngest would be taken in by Mother and Father. Then we would just sit and wait to see if we were going to be the 鈥渢arget鈥�. Everyone鈥檚 opinion was to the effect that it would only land on you if 鈥淵our number was on it!鈥�

Shelters

Our Anderson Shelter had been erected by Dad, he made a good job of it - he remembered what it was like in the trenches in World War 1. He served throughout the war and was badly injured. When he built it, he covered it over with earth and made a flower garden on top, bricked around the sides, made steps down to the entrance and built a brick wall in front to protect us from the blast. Inside he put cork lining to help counteract the humidity, because there were no ventilation holes. We sat on benches and the two youngest had small bunks. Our parents sat on stools in front of the opening. More often than not, we would spend all night in there - unable to move until the 鈥淎ll Clear鈥� was sounded. Then it would be a frantic dash to get ready for work, run for the tram, do a day鈥檚 work and start all over again!

Continued in鈥� A Welsh Girl鈥檚 Perspective 鈥� Part 3鈥�

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