大象传媒

Dawn broke quietly the morning after the heavy air attack. As the early morning light filtered softly in over the village of Llandaff, the destruction that the Luftwaffe had left behind them during the night, became a factor that had to be dealt with.

A pall of smoke arose from the wreckage and glowing embers of what still remained of Llandaff Cathedral. It pestered the air and provoked a feeling of despondency amongst the villagers who stood surveying the scene from the main High Street. The street was full of debris and scattered about were jagged glass splinters from the windows of the small shops that lay on either side of the road. When the blast hit the plate glass windows they had shattered into thousands of malicious glass slivers, that were flung forcefully around the area in every direction.

The landmine, that had fallen amongst the old graves situated close to the left side of the cathedral's south doors, sent tombstones and antiquated human bones from the graves flying into the air. These macabre missiles sailed up and away from the grassy dell that the cathedral lay in, only to end up haphazardly strewn across the main core of the village area.

One of the tombstones hit the roof of Llandaff Church School, that was situated in the centre of the village. It crashed through the roof and down into the main hall of the building, whilst yet others fell on the village green, in gardens, in the middle of the road and so forth, up to a mile away. One even ended up in Mr. Hopkins bedroom. He was the local village barber, as well as being an ARP warden, who happened to be patrolling the High Street when the bombs fell. Apparently, the blast lifted him off his feet and slung him headfirst down the road. I remember that he laughed when later telling my mother an amusing part of that incident. He had noticed that the small stones, also caught up in the bomb blast and flying in the same direction as he was, were actually overtaking him on the way!!

Father had been on duty all night and had reported in at our local ARP post early that morning. Following that he then checked in with the ARP base office in Llandaff. It was in order to see if there was any way that he could assist. The office in Llandaff was a hive of activity, as one can well imagine. The police and fire service had the area around Llandaff Cathedral cordoned off, whilst work was already in progress to clear away glass splinters and debris that lay everywhere. It was also deemed necessary to formulate a survey of the damage sustained to the whole area. The Theological College in Llandaff had also been hit so there was plenty of work to be done, but no shortage of helpers! That really was one of the most outstanding aspects during that period of time. People seemed to be absolutely at their best in trying to help one another. Morale seemed high, given the situation.

I, together with my brothers and sisters had gone to bed in the early hours of the morning, literally dog tired. I slept heavily and awoke late, feeling and thinking rather like a zombie! At first I wondered if I had experienced a nightmare, but then I quickly remembered some of the night's events. With those in mind I catapulted out of bed and rushed down the stairs to see what was happening there.

Mother was in the breakfast room, having donned her WVS uniform, and was almost ready to leave the house. Cardiff and suburb Llandaff village were now blitz zones and she knew she could do something to help out, especially with regard to care of the bombed out. Some of the other districts hit were Canton, Grangetown and particularly Riverside, where many people died. Llandaff North, Whitchurch and Fairwater, had also been bombed by the German bombers that night.

We children were delighted to hear that our school had received a direct hit by a tombstone and there would be no school that day. We knew that it would be "business as usual", the following day and had in mind to carry out our usual shrapnel treasure hunt, at least just as soon as Mother had left the house. She was definitely a mind reader because before leaving she issued her orders for the day! Amongst those she made a point of stressing that shrapnel hunting was definitely banned. Obviously that was due to danger in picking up any live ammunition that might still lie around. She was definitely quite right, of course, but we certainly didn't agree with her at the time!

Later that day we became aware of some strange scraping sounds being perfomed at the side gate to our garden. Shortly afterwards our dog struggled through the half open gateway carrying a huge green bone. It was a human shoulder blade that he had found somewhere and brought back as his doggie bounty. Quite horrified at the sight we managed to coax it away from him and hide it. With time it was returned to the cathedral for reburial.

The following day we were on our way back to school again feeling apprehensive about the situation we would find in the village. It felt quite good to be back into our usual routine again, even though we knew we would soon face the destruction the Luftwaffe had been the source of on the 2nd of January. We hurried onwards past the Cathedral School that overlooked Llandaff Green. Incidentally, the famous author Roald Dahl had lived in Llandaff and been schooled there in the 1920's. Although at the time Llandaff was blitzed he was already an RAF Spitfire pilot.

The village itself has always been very picturesque and quaint, but that day most of the houses around the village green looked desolate, mainly because many of them had had their windows blown out and only gaping holes remained. There was also still quite a lot of rubble strewn about too. Even so we just gasped in horror at what we could see had happened to our beautiful cathedral. It simply stood there looking battered and sad. It had been well and truly hit, but it still stood there bravely with it's spire broken and the long nave completely wrecked and burnt out. It was an extra shock for us both since we had stood inside the cathedral's nave naively looking around us, only about three hours before the mine fell and destroyed a great deal of it.

To try and understand that the Germans had flown the hazardous journey from their base, which I have since understood was at Nantes in France, risking their lives flying through heavy flack and possible fighter interception, in order to try and destroy areas of Cardiff and suburbs, actually made us feel very proud of our city. To imagine that they had realized how important these places were to us. It certainly made us feel determined to do our utmost to take more care of our city and village and really appreciate them. Our childish minds worked furiously overtime trying to think about what we could do to help!

To our left the ancient stone cross looked fairly intact and so did the ruins of the old bell tower that lay directly behind. We quickly rounded a bend in the road and the main High Street lay stretched out in front of us. The area seemed to be filled with people all busily working. Most of them were shopkeepers, aided by others, who were briskly boarding up shop windows.

There was a great deal of sawing and hammering in progress, whilst a couple of people were engaged in brushing clear the road and pavements. I had the impression that everything seemed strange and uninviting - there were simply no longer any windows to look into! People were out shopping for their rations and relating to one another their experiences of the bombing. Llandaff village was still very much alive and carrying on. The same situation was predominant in the City of Cardiff.

Llandaff Church School also looked different that morning! Some of the windows had gone and the tombstone, that had winged it's way out of the graveyard and across the village, had made a huge hole in the roof and another very large hole in the hall floor - where it then lay quietly. I remember feeling really glad that at least it wasn't raining or blowing that particular day! Mr Rex, who was our Headmaster, gathered us together at one end of the hall and we began the day by singing with tremendous gusto, a hymn entitled "All things bright and beautiful". I have since wondered why he chose that particular hymn, but I imagine it was in order to take our minds off the very odd situation we found ourselves in. How ridiculous it was to have been bombed by a tombstone!

Llandaff Church School had a Millenium reunion four years ago and there I met some of my previous school chums again. It was strange to think that I hadn't seen most of them since I had left the school in 1942. The little girl with pigtails that I once knew, was now a charming woman in her late sixties, the handsome elderly man was now the adult version of young Michael and so forth. We had all changed, but there was one thing we all had in common with one another. We were the survivors of the 1940/41 air attacks and together we had been through a time that we would never forget.

I think the letter that I, together with many other children of my time, received at the end of the war from King George VI, sums it all up. It reads as follows:-

8TH JUNE, 1946

TO-DAY, AS WE CELEBRATE VICTORY, I send this personal message to you and all other boys and girls at school. For you have shared in the hardships and dangers of a total war and you have shared no less in the triumph of the Allied Nations.

I know you will always feel proud to belong to a country which was capable of such supreme effort; proud, too, of parents and elder brothers and sisters who by their courage, endurance and enterprise brought victory. May these qualities be yours as you grow up and join in the common effort to establish among the nations of the world unity and peace.

(signed) George R.I.

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