大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People's War site by Glenn Fisher of Egerton Telecottage on behalf of Peter Hope and has been added to the site with his permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

MEMORIES OF WAR 鈥� MAIDSTONE 1939 - 1945

In 1937, my parents, due to recession, moved from East Peckham, near Tonbridge, to take a run down shop situated on the corner of Havock Lane and Faith Street 鈥� opposite the Royal Albion Pub.

1939

Although only four years old, my first memory of the war was on one sunny autumn morning. My Dad Harold picked me up, stood me on the windowsill of our house and told me that war had started that day. Shortly afterwards the air-raid siren, situated at the Fire Station sounded and Mum, Dad and I took refuge in our cellar. It was a false alarm.

Quite often on a Sunday we would catch the No 33, Maidstone and District bus to East Peckham, to visit my granddad and grandma. Granddad Hope was totally deaf due to severe wounds in the First World War. One Sunday I felt tension and worry in Grandma鈥檚 house. This was unusual as it was usually all chirpy and fun. I later found out that my uncle, Dad鈥檚 brother, was missing in France whilst serving with the BEF at the time of Dunkirk. Just before we set off to catch the bus home, a neighbour of grandma鈥檚 called in. She had been making tea and sandwiches for the evacuated soldiers from Dunkirk who were on trains stopping at Paddock Wood for refreshments. This neighbour whilst on the station was approached by a soldier, who was my rescued uncle. He said 鈥淭ell Mum I鈥檓 alright鈥�. I can remember the joy and relief in that household.

1940

By the time I was 5 I used to play with the local children who were older than me 鈥� some even 10 years. We all learnt even at that young to recognise every aircraft in the sky. (64 years later, I still bore my wife by quoting WW2 aircraft, instantly they appear on TV.)

We were all issued with gas masks, which fitted into a cardboard box with string to hang over your shoulder. It was compulsory to carry these gas masks wherever you went. We in our street were assigned an air-raid shelter, which was dug into the grounds of the Art School, next to the Public Library. The vaults of Fremlins brewery, just along the road in Havock Lane were also made available to us.

By the time the Battle of Britain started I was at primary school at East Borough at the top of Union Street. For a start I only went half days, as there were insufficient air-raid shelters for the school and these were merely blast shelters, which stood above the ground and gave very little protection.

During the Battle of Britain we were well used to seeing swarms of enemy bombers, flying in formation overhead. In the early days they would be attacked by a few of our fighters, but as the battle progressed more and more of our Spitfires and Hurricanes intercepted the enemy and air battles were frequent. It was quite usual to see an enemy aircraft fall out of formation. with smoke pouring from it. After the battles RAF lorries would tow away the wrecked aircraft loaded on long trailers. By this time bombs had started to fall on the town and us children would run along after the raid to see the damage.

One of my most striking memories was of one Friday lunchtime. Dad who then worked at Sharps in St Peter Street had just come home for lunch. There were at least six of us children playing in our garden. We looked up and saw a formation of German aircraft. Bombs started to drop and explosions started around the town. I went to our side gate, on to St Faith Street, and instantly witnessed the collapse of the gatehouse and gate of Brenchley gardens which received a direct hit. House bricks were flying everywhere, it was a miracle I was not hit. I was aware of being on the ground. Dad came crawling towards me, grabbed my ankle and pulled me into the house and down into the cellar where Mum and my friends were. After that raid our Victorian house stood proud with just a few broken windows and a few cracks in the walls. I have since discovered that day was the infamous 27th September 1940 when over fifty bombs fell on Maidstone with 23 people killed - the worst day of bombing Maidstone suffered. After the raid St Faith Street was like a river as the water main had been breached.

About this time Britain was expecting invasion, huge ditches were being dug on the edge of town to stop tanks. Concrete obstacles were erected on various points of the road. At various points mini-Nissen huts containing live ammunition were set up. One such point was by the towpath of the River Medway en route to Allington Locks. On our Sunday morning walk, us boys found that this hut had been broken into. Live 303 rounds, hand grenades (Mills bombs) and large calibre shells were spread along the towpath. To us boys this was Aladdin鈥檚 cave. We rushed home to get our barrow, loaded it with ammunition and took it back to our shed in my garden. Although highly dangerous, even at that young age we were very familiar with such items. We were wise enough to leave the Mills bombs alone, even though they needed a fuse to activate and just put them in the corner of the shed. We started to prise out the 鈥渂all caps鈥� of the bullets and shells to obtain the cordite which we intended to use in homemade fireworks. Old Mr Poile then looked into the shed and nearly had a fit. He had lost a leg in the First World War but I had never seen him move so fast. He contacted the police. In the mean time, Mum had arrived on the scene, wondering what all the fuss was about.

She instructed us to throw the Mills bombs into the river, where they probably remain to this day. The police then arrived and an inspector with a loud 鈥� hailer told us to leave everything and come out. (Not with our hands up). After much a-do we were taken to the police station and given the mother of all ticking-offs. Recently I read where a whole street was evacuated because somebody found a Mills bomb in their shed in London: In 1940 we had a shed full!

Bombs continued to fall at various points and our gang always ran to inspect the damage after the raid. Usually the damage was the collapse of a house wall and roof with curtains blowing in glassless windows, and with furniture piled on top of the rubble.

One day after school there was an almighty explosion at the top of Union Street. We were instantly ushered to the Art School shelters. When we left the shelter we went to the top of Union Street and saw a terrible mess at Albion Place. A Hurricane fighter had crashed onto a house and all the six Wooding family; two of the Woods and the pilot had been killed.

Another memory was one Sunday travelling home on the No 33 bus from Gran鈥檚 at East Peckham. Passing along the road opposite the Teston Valley and bridge we saw a Heinkel 111 flying low towards us. In a flash it was gone but not before it opened fire with its machine gun hitting the bus and smashing windows. We were told there no casualties.

Maidstone suffered terrible casualties one day when a lone Dornier, aiming at Rootes Motor Repair Sheds, dropped a stick of bombs, which landed, in Mill Street causing awful damage and destroying Levy鈥檚 clothes shop. That Dornier passed over our garden, very low and climbing eastwards. I can still remember the silhouette of the pilot outlined in the cockpit by the sunlight beyond.

A Sunday lunchtime also stands out in my memory when a terrible air battle raged over Maidstone 鈥� a right 鈥淒ing-Dong鈥�. I can still remember burning aircraft falling out of the sky and parachutes descending.

At this time air battles were usually a daily occurrence and became quite matter of fact. After various raids we would go out and collect shrapnel (parts of exploded anti-aircraft gun shells), which at times rattled down, on roofs smashing slates and tiles. The Germans took to dropping anti-personnel bombs, which would explode if picked up. These 鈥渂utterfly bombs鈥� were dropped from aircraft and fell like sycamore seed 鈥� the wings breaking the fall. Brian Moon and I found one in Vinters Park but knew better than to touch it 鈥� we reported it to the air raid warden.
During one night raid Mum noticed that old Mrs Maiver, in her 80鈥檚, was lying unconscious in the middle of St Faith鈥檚 Street. It was immediately assumed that she had been hit by falling shrapnel, so Mum and Vi Thompson, a neighbour, got her to the West Kent Hospital. After waiting a long time to hear how she was a nurse informed them that she would be OK in the morning as she was drunk after visiting the Royal Albion.

Graham Taylor and his Mum, neighbours, heard news of Bill who had been missing since Dunkirk 鈥� he was a prisoner of war in Germany.

1941
Dad was called up to serve in the Air Force.
Air raids were now mostly at nighttime. Mum would push the kitchen table against the fireplace and we would sit under it 鈥� some protection! In the event of an expected severe raid, Mr Golding, the then Curator of Maidstone Museum would go around knocking on doors and ensuring everyone went to the Art School shelter. We would listen to the intermittent drone of the enemy aircraft flying overhead with the noise of the Ack-Ack guns.

My uncle Ernie, a soldier, was now at Maidstone Barracks and gave me the special treat of a tour of Maidstone Barracks. I remember sitting on his shoulders as he walked around. Soon after, he was captured at Singapore and died on the last day of the war with Japan.

It was usual for the military to hold church parades and we used to love to see them marching back to camp with the regimental band in front.

Most civilian transport was horse drawn and the few lorries remaining often had huge gasbags mounted on the cab roof as they were powered by gas. At this time there were all sorts of incentives to buy saving stamps. 鈥淪ave for a Spitfire鈥�. 鈥淪ave for a Wellington Bomber鈥�. When sufficient money was saved, the aircraft, once a Spitfire, once a Wellington, stood in Rootes car park (now their second hand car lot) for everyone to inspect.

Saving waste paper was another scheme and from time to time you could take a bundle of waste paper to the Central cinema in King Street and gain free admission to a children鈥檚 matinee.

All iron railings surrounding houses were cut down to be re-cast into weapons although I understand never used.

1942/43
Two personal things I remember.

The first, another run in with the police. In an old drawer in Mum and Dad鈥檚 shop, I found some old fireworks called 鈥淎ustralian Guns鈥�. I saved them until Guy Fawkes night and without telling Mum, we set them off in the street. Our gang didn鈥檛 know that such things were banned, even if available, however the instant arrival of Sgt Tubby Tennant soon made us aware.

The second was a thing of great luxury. Mum had save a tin of pears from 1939 and to the envy of all our neighbours we opened them on Christmas Day.

Later in the war, I guess it must have been late 1943 early 1944 our gang heard through the Grapevine that General Montgomery was coming to Maidstone on the next train at Maidstone East. We ran to the station and saw him on the platform. The police could not understand how we knew he was coming as it was intended to be 鈥渉ush- hush鈥�.

At about the same time, I found a small pink capsule in St Faiths Street. It was obvious that it has fallen from a carrier pigeon. We immediately opened it but could not understand the slip that was in the capsule. We took it to the police station and handed it in, intact. The next day a jeep arrived with an army captain and two redcaps (military police) who quizzed us and wanted to know if we had read the contents. All of us said we had not 鈥� liars. And it took a lot of reassurance before the army military police went 鈥� I have ever after wondered what the content of the message was!

The Americans arrived. Every evening they would come in busloads to Fairmeadow and make their way to their PX, located in the basement of Dunnings (now Army and Navy). They would then set out for the local pubs. Nine, led by Top Sgt 鈥淢ac鈥� visited the Albion frequently. They were very kind to us boys and used to bring us doughnuts (with hole in the middle) candy and gum. They said we were OK, as we never worried them by saying, 鈥淕ot any Gum Chum鈥�

T Sgt Mac and his 鈥渂oys鈥� became good friends and we taught them how to play cricket and they taught us baseball. One day they went and we never saw them again. At the end of 1944 the biggest lad in our gang had a letter from Top Sergeant Mac saying that only two of the nine remained: the other seven had been killed.

Then came the Doodlebugs (. Buzz bombs or V1鈥檚). I remember the first night they came over. The siren warnings of an air attack continued on and off throughout the night. My Mother and I got up time after time to take shelter. The next morning we saw these aircraft with their tails on fire whizzing low across the sky. It was frightening, as unknown threats are. We were soon aware that when the engine stopped you were in trouble so you urged them to keep flying. Many fell in and about Maidstone and the county. One I saw hit a barrage balloon above RAF West Malling. What a bang! Another I remember landing in the yards of Maidstone West Station. The men loading a horse drawn cart with coal were blown to pieces.

This is just an immediate memory of a small boy growing up in the time of war in Maidstone. Some times we were terrified, especially in 1940, but most of the time we were brought up in this environment and knew nothing different. Most people adapted and tried to live a life as normal as possible. The attitude to life was so different. For example: in school holidays I used to go out with Horace Brice delivering for Fremlins to Dover, which was shelled constantly by the Germans from France. On leaving one day my mum yelled out to me 鈥淵ou mind you are home before the shelling鈥�

In later years we discovered how easy life had been in an unoccupied country compared to the rest of Europe. And how lucky we were to be a few years younger than the generations above who were massacred.

THE END
When news of peace arrived I can remember people running, jumping and dancing, shouting for joy in Week Street. Running up and down laughing and shouting. Flags appeared from every building. It was absolute joy that I have never witnessed since.

Weeks later came the street parties with bonfires. Ours was on the junction of Havock Lane and St Faiths Street. The tarmac was so badly burned that you could spot the location 25 Years later. I still think I can now.

Months later the Dads started to come home, dressed in their demob suits 鈥� nearly all grey pin stripe with a brown trilby hat.

During the Battle of Britain 53 Maidstone people died as a result of enemy action and 234 bombs fell on the town and surrounds

PPS. In 1943, I swallowed a live Sten gun bullet 鈥� so don鈥檛 stand too close!

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