- Contributed byÌý
- Bernard de Neumann
- People in story:Ìý
- Bernard de Neumann
- Location of story:Ìý
- Thundersley, Essex
- Article ID:Ìý
- A2215117
- Contributed on:Ìý
- 19 January 2004
During the winter of 1944—5, I was asleep in my cot in an upstairs bedroom of my grandparents' house when a doodle-bug roared into earshot.
Within seconds, it had flown over and past the house. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief and thought the danger had gone. Quite unexpectedly, though, it reversed and headed back toward us. Then the engine cut out.
Everyone fled for shelter beneath the stairs, except me. I was left in my cot to face the spite and fury of the Nazi war machine alone. The doodle-bug crashed into a house in Rayleigh, about half a mile away, killing the occupants and leaving their son, Albert, an orphan and crippled for life.
I slept through the entire proceedings. However, in the years that followed, this story was often recounted.
© Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.
Story with photo