大象传媒

I was sitting in my Gran's kitchen, sometime in 1943, peeling an apple with one of the old flexible razor blades; silly boy.
My mum was doing war work in a factory so that is why I was at my Grans. Of course, I sliced through my thumb and my Gran, suitably annoyed but even more, concerned, said, 'Right, my lad. It's up to Croydon General Hospital for you'. We got our coats on and off we trotted. Croydon General was on the main A23 which ran through Croydon from London to Brighton. Croydon also had the airport, gas works, considerable light industry and marshalling yards at nearby Selhurst, so had received frequent visits from the Luftwaffe. We had just about reached the hospital when the air raid sirens went off. We dived into the nearest shop doorway, the large Co-op building that (so I learnt afterwards) all my family used, especially for their shoes. Bombs began to fall and the flashes of the anti-aircraft batteries could be seen lighting up the sky to complement the searchlights reaching out for the marauders.
Thankfully, we were not injured in any way and I managed to get stitched up and return home without any further incident. The scar and two neat stitch marks are still clearly visible on my thumb and I still visit the Co-op but in less fraught circumstances. The shoes are not quite so hardy but worth considering.

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