大象传媒

In 1943, because of renewed bombing, I was evacuated from London, for the second time, to the country town of Hildenborough in Kent, on this occasion.
I was accompanied by my mother and elder sister, Vera, to a house on the outskirts of town overlooking Kent fields. I was seven years old at the time, and remember feeling sad and deserted when my mother and sister left me in the care of a middle aged spinster who owned the property.

I felt better when three other children were deposited at the house by their mothers, especially when one little boy burst into tears as his mother left.
At least I鈥檓 not alone I told myself.

The four of us evacuees soon settled down to a routine of school and play away from the constant sound of bombing raids. We mostly enjoyed playing the victims of projected raids for Red-Cross Trainees, who made us up with mock injuries, which they treated.

Usually by covering us in bandages. Another pastime I thoroughly enjoyed was playing a game of 鈥淗e鈥� ( tag ) with a tennis ball. I well developed my gymnastic skills avoiding being hit with the ball.

The lady of the house turned out to be a kind, if old fashioned soul. Every Sunday evening we sat in the parlour while she played to us on an upright harmonium working large pedals with her feet. At Christmas time, because of the war, very few presents, if any, were sent by parents, and the lady suggested we made presents for each other, simple things which we wrapped in the usual way. It turned out to be a memorable Christmas.

Sometime early in 1944 I was standing in the school playground when I heard a strange loud, sputtering sound, in the sky. Looking up I saw this blunt nosed single winged plane passing overhead, with flames spouting from the tail end. It was my first sight of a V1 Rocket, the so called 鈥淒oodle Bug鈥� which were just starting to be rained down on London by the Germans.

I saw plenty more after that, but unfortunately for Kent, many hundreds of these flying bombs fell far short of London. We soon learned that once the sputtering noise and flame ceased, it was only a matter of seconds before the V1 fell to earth with a mighty explosion.
I must admit I found the explosion exciting as well as frightening. On the way to school one morning one of these bombs stopped overhead and a man threw me and my friend under a hedge and covered us with his own body, as the V1 exploded deafeningly nearby. Fortunately none of us were hurt.

On another occasion a V1 had fallen near a railway bridge near a river and remember watching as a train engine pulling empty trucks, was slowly taken over the bridge to test its safety. It was the first time as well in the war, that I saw the bodies of injured people laying about on the ground.

In the house we had a huge iron table that acted as an air-raid shelter, and one night we all slept under it when a flying bomb fell in the field next to us and blew all the back windows in.

Again, fortunately none of us needed the attention of the Red Cross Volunteers. The next morning us children ran into the deep crater in the field collecting pieces of shrapnel.

Shortly after this the authorities got their act together and we were all transferred to a safer part of Southern Britain.

This story was submitted to the 鈥淧eoples War Site by Rod Aldwinckle of the CSV Action Desk on behalf of Ronald Edwards and has been added to the site with his permission. The author fully understands the terms and conditions of the site.

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