大象传媒

1943 鈥� I was 6 years old. One Friday morning I was playing in the garden of my home in New Eltham, South East London. My mother and a visiting friend were preparing a fish lunch. Suddenly I heard the spluttering drone of a V1, and looking up I saw it approaching over the telegraph wires. The engines cut out and there was an eerie silence. I ran indoors, shouting 鈥� It鈥檚 a Doodle-bug,鈥� and we all rushed into the dining room and dived into the Morrison, or table shelter. (This shelter was made up as a double bed and we all slept in it because the air raids occurred most nights.) My mother pulled the meshed panel up to protect us and we put the pillows over our heads. I shall never forget the noise as the flying bomb came down, - a whining scream followed by a deep, loud thud. I remember trying to burrow deeper into the bedding, scrabbling to escape the horror that was to come. The house shook, the windows shattered and the ceilings and walls collapsed. Soot from the chimney was billowing in clouds around us, making breathing difficult. Silence followed, but very soon afterwards I could hear the Air Raid Warden calling out, asking if anyone was hurt. My mother answered, and after a little while a passageway was cleared through the rubble and I was lifted out safely. I was not hurt, but I was crying with fright. I was carried out of the house, still crying, and taken to my mother鈥檚 friend鈥檚 house. I can remember someone asking 鈥淚s she hurt鈥�, and my mother鈥檚 friend answering, 鈥淣o, just frightened鈥�.

The house was no longer habitable, so my mother took me to stay with my grandparents in Durham, where I continued my schooling at the village school at Castle Eden. My father, who was employed by the London County Council and was based at Avery Hill, remained behind.

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