大象传媒

As a youngster I was often told the tales of WW II 鈥� the effect it had on my then teenage Father (and Aunts & Uncles) stayed with them for life. This is one of the most poignant stories as I have recently discovered the actual evidence.

In 1940\1 my Grandfather lived with his wife and four of his five teenage children 鈥� the eldest being away 鈥渙n war work鈥� in an upper Tyneside flat approximately a mile from the river Tyne and its shipyards.

In April 1940 German troops seized Norway and Denmark. In August 1940 German Air Fleet 15 began bombing raids on the North-East from its bases in Stavanger, Norway, and Aalborg, Denmark. In an attempt to destroy shipbuilding the Luftwaffe dropped a combination of High Explosive bombs on the Shipyards, mines in the River, and incendiary bombs across the whole of Tyneside.

My Granddad, having served in both Royal and Merchant Navy during WWI, had an unusual respect for the Germans having been in combat against the Imperial German Navy and having met some POW鈥檚 during that time thought they 鈥渨ere just like us鈥�. However the air raids were something completely alien to him and in his way of dealing with them in 1940 were to send the children to the communal air raid shelter (built in the middle of the street) and then turn the wireless up! This was not saying he was complacent as he always has a bucket of sand and a stirrup pump to hand (probably the Naval training).

Christmas 1940 was subject to normal wartime restrictions, however Granddad was well pleased with his first pair of new shoes since the War started. He religiously polished his shoes every night and left them on the hearth.

In early 1941 the sirens began and the Children gathered their things and made their way to the shelter, while Granddad opened the windows (to limit blast damage 鈥� I think). He noticed that a lot of IBs (Incendiary bombs) were falling so he decided to look out into the street to see what was happening. At the same time a cluster of IBs rattled down across the opposite side of the street and he could see them 鈥渂urning in the roofs鈥�. He ran across the street (with some neighbours) to make sure everyone was aware of the fire 鈥� then, for some reason turned and saw fire on his own roof. He returned home to find a solitary IB burning on the living room floor next to the hearth 鈥� with coal tongs he calmly picked it up an put it in the sand bucket and dowsed the carpet with water, he then climbed into the loft with his stirrup pump and dampened down the smouldering timbers. He then went to help his neighbours and returned home the next morning. My Dad remembered going into the room to survey the damage with Granddad and the look on his face when he found his charred an blackened shoes. After that, according to Dad, Granddad鈥檚 opinion of the Germans declined, but he still kept his 鈥渇ire watch鈥� every air raid.

All of the eyewitnesses to those events are now gone but the flat is still owned by our family, and in a recent refurbishment I uncovered the repairs to the ceiling and floor where the IB came through and thought to tell this, their story.

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