大象传媒

SUMMER 1948 _ WOLDINGHAM, SURREY
My story begins on a grass tennis court in the grounds of a Victorian House in Woldingham. It was the home of my friend, Anne, end we were playing tennis on a brilliant summer day. We were both ten years old. It was my turn to serve, and I threw the ball high in order to make a smash h it, or so I thought.

My eye was caught by a flash in the sky. I was aware of wheeling planes
up and down, around and around, diving, climbing, like the moves in a dance.

"Look at the planes," I called to Anne. We watched together. We had become familiar with the design, markings and names of our fighter planes. Anne's brother was in the RAF and we had studied the photograph." o f , the planes and seen drawings in magazines. The RAF base was at Biggin Hill only a few miles away. We were confident that these planes were Hurricanes and Spitfires"

There were also German planes, Messerschmutt 109鈥檚. The cross on the fuselage was clearly visible ' Anne and I looked at each other'
" It ' s a dog - fight , " I said slowly '
" Yes, of course" said Anne. At that moment a 1oud voice called from
the house.
" Come in, girls , It's getting dangerous'. I returned home, to the house next door, where I lived with my mother and sister. My father had joined his unit in France '. The activity in the sky continued daily '
Inspite of this, we children walked to school along the ridge of the hill.
On the way we saw the wreckage of planes, lying in the surrounding fields'.

We had brought crusts of bread, to feed the goats, which were always waiting for us. We hurried along, our only fear being that we might be late for school'. But one evening I had an experience which jolted me into an awareness of the reality of, war.

Our neighbours had constructed an air raid shelter in the side of a high sloping grass bank in their garden. My family were invited to share the
shelter with them and supply our own bedding, etc' My sister and I loved
the shelter, and pretended it was our own home'.

There was a list of items that each person should bring to the shelter.
A siren suit (to be worn over pyjamas )
A filled hot water bottle
a filled thermos flask
a bottle of water
a sleeping bag
a gas mask
a book
a torch

One evening I was late, so I bundled the items together in a basket and walked quickly down the path, but I had forgotten my book. So. I returned to the house, picked up my book and hurried back to the shelter. Just near the entrance I heard an extremely loud noise the roar of an engine I. looked up and saw a German plane flying low, just skimming the tree top behind the house. I saw clearly, the black cross on the fuselage and then the head and shoulders of the German pilot. His head was covered by a close fitting helmet and he wore goggles. I also had a glimpse of his gloved hands at the controls. He tipped the plane sideways and disappeared into the valley below. I was amazed, shocked and fearful. I had seen the face of the enemy and not an anonymous foe in the sky.
"Hurry up," called my sister, it's getting dark." Obviously she had not heard the plane. During the next few weeks, an armada of planes, German bombers and fighters approached high in the sky, in perfect formation, heading for London'.

This invasion occurred daily, a relentless barrage o f hate. My father returned home for a few days leave. We al1 played with a tiny kitten, which had become entangled in a ball of wool'. It was fun to be together again.

Then my father returned to the war.

漏 Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.