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Messengers who were on late-duty would normally finish at 6.30, if the sirens during the Blitz started up with a warning from 5.30 onwards, we had an arrangement with the Post-Office and our parents that we wouldn’t be going home that night, but we would stay in the shelter of the Post-Office underground railway, situated in Wimpole Street. I had to do this on this particular occasion.

The members of the public didn’t use it because they used the underground, and so it was Post-Office staff. This one night we stayed there the night and it was uneventful down below, and we had our sleep and we were woken up rather early- around six o’clock — which is a little earlier than normal. I got up and went to the canteen. At the Post-Office we were given a free breakfast — chipolatas and chips and a nice crusty roll, and a deep mug of tea.

On this particular night, Gerry had decided to drop an awful lot of bombs including incendiaries, on Central London including Oxford Street, and Oxford Street was only about 100 yards from our office, so we were rather fortunate to be away from it all.

When we came back in the daylight and saw the devastation it was quite nasty.

This story was submitted to the People’s War site by Becky Barugh of the ´óÏó´«Ã½ Radio Shropshire CSV Action Desk on behalf of Bill Kendall and has been added to the site with his permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

See more of Bill's stories:

• A White-Faced Inspector
• Doody
• Given a bit of cheek
• High-Tailed it home
• How it all began
• I was BKFJ434
• ’Let him go and let him tarry’
• In a split second timing
• Oranges and Lemons
• Rotten Bananas
• Waste not, Want not
• It was coming straight for me
• Using more of my nine lives
• Tiny and Shiny
• Free post
• Time just came and went
• No. 1 London

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