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This story was submitted to the People’s War site by Matthew Smaldon on behalf of Laurence Kemp and has been added to the site with his permission. Mr Kemp fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

'I was born in 1928 in Scranton Pennsylvania, USA. My family moved to Newcastle in 1938, then down south to Croydon in 1939. I went to Tavistock School in West Croydon.

I became a runner for the National Fire Service. It was my job to carry messages to different depots, travelling on my bike. There were a lot of anti-aircraft guns locally, and there used to be a lot of shrapnel from their shells. If you collected enough shrapnel and took it to the town hall, they would give you a tin hat.

When the doodlebugs started coming over, they moved the guns into Kent, and we were only protected by barrage balloons. Now, I don’t know why this was, but I noticed that even before the sirens sounded, all the public telephones would ring three times, then stopped, then rand another three times. This meant that a doodlebug was on its way, and would be here within minutes. When their engines stopped, they didn’t just fall — they would glide.

I remember one morning in 1944 I was standing on Addiscombe Bridge in West Croydon, and I watched this doodlebug gliding down. It landed at Selhurst, near Crystal Palace Football Ground. This was around breakfast time. I ran the quarter of a mile to get there, and when I arrived the Civil Defence were not there at that time. They soon turned up and started digging a woman out of a house, who had a sink on top of her. As I was small, I was asked to go into the house to clear a hole to get the sink off her. As I climbed down into the hole, I touched her. Her head came off — she’d been decapitated. I came out of that hole like a rabbit!

I was evacuated in 1944 to Bideford in north Devon. My brother was meant to come with me, but he was ill with measles, so he stayed in Croydon. It was lovely there, a farming community — it changed my life. I stayed on a farm with Mr and Mrs Hitchcock. I went back there a few years ago too. When I returned to London, I was met by my Aunt at Waterloo. There was a young lad with her and I asked ‘Who is the bloke with the chauffeur’s hat?’ It turned out it was my brother Billy — I didn’t recognise him. I was told I was only going on a holiday to London, but as it turned out I didn’t go back to Bideford. I later went on to join the RASC, then followed my brothers into the Parachute Regiment. This was after the war though.

During the war, and I know it’s not nice to say it, but it was good. Everyone spoke to each other. Everyone was together. Now, you don’t even know your neighbours.'

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