大象传媒

War Time Stories
by
Brian Ford

I was born on 22nd March 1934, at 155 Clive Street, Grangetown, Cardiff.

My recollections were of going to the Anderson shelter which was half sunken in the garden. Search lights criss-crossing the sky, lighting up all the backs of the terraced houses, and the sound of ack ack and guns resounding in the night. You got to know the sound of German aircraft by the intermittent sound of their engines and then the screaming of bombs falling.

The women in the neighbouring gardens, their silhouettes lit up, their arms skywards, cursed Hitler鈥檚 mother for bringing him into the world.

On one of the air raids someone shouted, "they are dropping parachutists". It was in fact a landmine designed to explode with maximum devastation, it fell not many doors away, totally demolishing the so called Mansion House, on the corner of Ferry Road and Holmesdale Street.

It was said that men were leaving the Clive Arms Public House, but one man decided to make his way home at the height of the air raid while others decided to stay.

The morning after, I was with my mother on a bus alongside White Wilson鈥檚 factory in South Clive Street. A swarm of starlings were picking the unrecognisable remains of the men from the wall and frontage leading to it, these were the men who decided to stay.

Another afternoon, I was in the infants at the National School in Clive Street. The siren sounded, I think we were sent home, although in the playground there was a large concrete shelter. I ran into the playground, looked up and just skimming the school roof was a German airplane, with total fright I ran backwards, and cracked the back of my head on the shelter. I can see the pilot now, cockpit hood back, looking down at the playground. I ran home holding the back of my head, where quite a large lump was developing, my mother put some dripping (lard) on it.

The airplane went over the docks (Tiger Bay), I am told he fired, but ours were not allowed to return fire in case the airplane came down on a populated area.

We ended up standing on our Anderson shelter in the garden. The German pilot was engaged over the Bristol Channel. I could not hear anything, but I could see puffs of smoke coming from their guns. The German was eventually shot down over the channel.

My brother and I collected large amounts of shrapnel from exploded shells and bombs, very jagged, you could easily have cut yourself. The outcome of these events, left me with my mouth ending sideways to my ear, and a stammer you would not believe. I was away from school for many months. It was thought that I would have to go to London for treatment, but my mouth eventually came back to normal, but my stammer stayed for many years. Suggestions were made at the time for me to have speech lessons, but my parents felt that if the late King and his friend Henry Hall, the bandmaster at the time could not be cured, what chance did I have.

Rationing. I always made a detour of all shops on the way to school and any queues outside shops you joined, although the women would say, "there is nothing here love," you stayed anyway, school came next to food.

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