大象传媒

鈥淢y God woman! How many more of you are in there鈥�?

The night of Thursday 13th March 1941 will always be remembered as the night of the Clydebank Blitz. My memories of that night are still with me today. I was eleven years old on that particular night and had decided to attend the local Girl Guide鈥檚 weekly meeting in Blawarthill Church Hall in Millbrix Avenue Scotstoun and take the first step towards joining the movement. All too soon the meeting drew to a close. As I left the hall the Guide leader asked, 鈥渨ould I come again the following week?鈥� To this I replied, 鈥淥h yes, I would come again next week鈥�. Unknown to myself, fate stepped in and I never did return to another meeting.

As I made my way home I was as happy as could be, I was going to be a Girl Guide. Our house in Lesmuir Drive, was not more than 300 hundred yards from the church hall. The time was just after 9 o鈥檆lock. The night was clear with the moon riding high on an almost cloudless sky. I remember looking up to the stars as I went along. I was at the stage when I was beginning to recognise some of the star formations. I had only walked a short distance when the all too familiar wail of the air raid siren lent wings to my feet as I raced for home as fast as I could, my heart pounding with fear.

We were all at home that night. Why we didn鈥檛 make our way to the Anderson shelter is unclear. Perhaps it was thought to be another practice alert by the Civil Defence. However, as the drone of the planes filtered through the still night air and the sound of explosions were heard, we were quick to realise that this time, it was for real. What were we going to do? Was there now a sense of fear at the thought of venturing out into the inhospitable darkness? There were eight of us in the house that night. Along with my parents were my two elder sisters, one elder brother and two younger brothers; and of course myself.

As we sat around the coal fire in the living room comforting each other, the sound of the planes engines as they flew overhead droned on and on as wave after wave came over. At first the bombardment was in the distance but nevertheless loud enough to strike fear into the heart of the bravest. We had no way of knowing what the Luftwaffe was targeting. The shipyards were the obvious targets with the ship builders 鈥榊arrow鈥� and 鈥楯ohn Brown鈥檚鈥� but a stone throw away. The 鈥楽inger Manufacturing Company鈥� where part of the building had been taken over for the production of munitions would most certainly be one of the prime targets was the speculation among the adults.

As we sat in the darkened room with the curtains sealed against any escaping light from within there was only the glow from the coal fire for comfort. This by now was getting low, but no one dared to leave the room for coal and replenish it. The hours ticked slowly by, 10 o鈥檆lock, 11 o鈥檆lock鈥� midnight, and still they came. The noise at times was deafening. The chattering of the Ack Ack guns was relentless. Every now and again a flash of light filled the room. Someone drew aside the curtains a few inches (A foolish move) to enable us to see the night sky; by now aglow from the fires created by the incendiary bombs. There too, were the beams of light from the searchlights piercing the sky, searching out the planes for the gunners on the ground.

*Through my research, I was to learn that no planes were credited to the Ack Ack guns over the city, although two enemy planes were destroyed that night. A night fighter, in the west of Scotland brought down one plane and another en-route to Clydebank was shot down off the Northumberland coast.

During all this we were unaffected by the 鈥楲uftwaffe Blitzing鈥� until it seemed all hell let loose. It was as if bombs were now falling in the vicinity. My parents then decided that perhaps we would be safer seeking refuge in the hall; which was the central part of the house. (There was no attempt made to leave the house for the Anderson shelter in the garden) With one accord we made our way into the hall. I remember that I had with me a small cushion, which I cradled in my arms as I sat on the floor with my back to the wall. By this time we were all very much afraid as the noise outside was thunderous. I have no recollection of hysteria except when one of my sisters decided that she would be safer if she went and hid underneath her bed. Just as she made her move the bedroom window was shattered by the blast from a bomb giving us all a tremendous fright.

Time moved on. The noise subsided to be replaced by the sound of voices outside and a whistle being blown, we wondered about the reason for this but no one made a move to find out. Shortly after this the sound of the All Clear siren was heard. The time was officially recorded as 6.25 a.m.
It had been a long night but for us it was not over, there was more to come.

Having now decided that it was safe to venture out and before my dad or anyone else for that matter could move my mother opened the door. On stepping outside she was alarmed with a piercing whistle followed by a yell from an ARP Warden. 鈥� Good God woman, how many more of you are in there鈥�. 鈥淗ad we not heard the whistles and the announcement to clear the area?鈥� When told that we were afraid to come out he quickly explained that there was an unexploded parachute mine lodged in the stairway of the house opposite. Because of this we had to leave immediately. Every one had gone we were the only ones left.

We were about a mile distance from Clydebank and although not directly part of the raid, the fires created in the vicinity attracted the bombers who indiscriminately dropped their bombs and incendiaries to fall over a wide area causing severe devastation.

(Parachute mines are high explosive bombs about 8 feet long and 3 feet in diameter. They are not aimed but float down suspended on parachutes and explode on impact with a tremendous lateral blast).

As instructed we made our way to Victoria Drive and the Secondary School there. This was perhaps about a quarter of a mile away and was being used as a temporary rest centre. It was a hurried evacuation. My brothers were wearing their pyjamas under their jumper and trousers. As we made our way there we could see several houses where fires continued to smoulder from the onslaught of incendiary bombs the night before. A number of houses showed signs of bomb blast. We were later to learn that extensive damage had been caused in the street adjacent to ours (Langholm Street) where a high explosive bomb had landed on one of the tenement buildings.

I was also dismayed to learn that a parachute mine had landed on my school, Bankhead Primary, with a great loss of life. (It was years later before I was to learn the full extent of the devastation caused on this night)

We were constantly made aware of the terror of the night before as we made our way along Dumbarton Road towards the rest centre. The general scenario was one of destruction. Roof slates, glass from shattered windows, along with piles of debris from damaged buildings paved our way. Tramcars, which carried passengers the night before now stood empty like silent sentinels over all. Police and Wardens were in attendance at various Control points presenting symbolic figures of assurance to all.

When we arrived at the Rest Centre it was to find it a hub of activity. There appeared to be people everywhere. After being 'Registered' we were directed to the gymnasium and supplied with a blanket after which we secured enough floor space in one of the classrooms to settle down. We were given a plate of hot porridge and a cup of tea. It was whilst I was there that I later enjoyed rice pudding served with a mixture of raisins. (I don鈥檛 think that I have tasted it since) Food was provided by the W.V.S. who were assisted by volunteers, along with teachers who had made themselves available.
We remained at the Rest Centre all day Friday 14th. and endured a second night of bombing from the German Luftwaffe although not as severe as the night before.

Sometime during Saturday 15th, we returned home. At one point during the afternoon I was taken to see the defused bomb in the house across the way. It lay in the stairway cradled by the carpet. A large ugly metal shape draped with tattered parachute silk and harness rope. The naval personnel on duty gave me a piece of parachute silk as a souvenir.

My parents later explained to us that we were going to visit my paternal grandparents who lived in a town in the Border area. This was to be temporary measure and we would leave on the night train. My father however would have to stay and continue with his work as a telegraph linesman with LNER Railways.
A telegram was sent to my grandparents explaining of our arrival, this unfortunately, did not arrive until the following morning! You can imagine the shock to my grandparents when they opened the door and there we were all seven of us on their doorstep around midnight.

(Our visit turned out to be an extended one, as we never returned to Glasgow. My parents were originally from the Borders and it was decided we would remain in the area and make a new start in life in this Border town that nestled in a valley surrounded by the quiet soft rounded green covered hills of Teviotdale.)

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