大象传媒

I lived in the village of Runfold, Near Farnham in Surrey. The military town of Aldershot is only 2 miles north of the village, and London 35 Miles North to the North East.

At the age of 10 I became aware that We were in a war. We could hear explosions in London and if we stood on the Hog's Back ( the high ridge running from Farnham to Guildford) we could see the London fires burning.

Sometimes we went down in to the cellar when we heard the "wow-wow" sound of the German bombers. The sound was distinctive because the pilots synchronized their engines when cruising to achieve maximum fuel efficiency.

I think I was about 10 and a half years old when My father asked Me to walk our greyhound. I walked south from Runfold, through the grounds of "Larchfield" which was a large house on high ground that had been taken over by the Army. At the crest of the hill I heard a throbbing sound and looking south I saw a V1 (Doodlebug bomb) coming straight towards me. I knew what it was from the silhouettes published at the time.
I thought it was going for Aldershot, but just at that moment it's engine stopped. I dived to the ground and watched as a couple of seconds later, it pitched abruptly downwards, almost vertically, and disappeared behind the trees of a house I knew as "Inglewood".(Inglewood was another large Victorian house and woodland requisitioned by the Army, I treated it as My playground).
There was then a tremendous explosion, and I watched as a column of dirt and smoke rose hundreds of feet in to the air, carrying with it pieces of timber and debris. Our dog, a racing greyhound called Vim, ran quickly towards the explosion, (why hid did has always puzzled me).

As the dog was my fathers pride and joy, I was frightened of losing him. I chased after him, through the gardens and woods of "Inglewood" and crossing the the sands village road I arrived at the scene of the blast.
Sandy Farm, or what had been Sandy farm, was totally flat, all except the ironstone wall by the road. The house, the milking parlour, the sheds, the haystacks all were a pile of rubble.
I walked over the mounds of rubble, calling for Vim, our dog. There was a deathly silence, not a sound, no people, no animals or birdsong, - No Dog.
I then noticed I was walking over a mixture of meat,blood,hay and brick. Piles of meat quivering. I realised I was standing on what had been a heard of cows that had been in the yard when the V1 hit.

I turned, shocked, and left the farm for home.

Arriving home I found Vim already there, and I never told my parents where I'd been. I didn't tell anyone until now.

I've since learnt that the farmer, his wife and others were also under that pile of rubble.
I had arrived, and left before anyone from the village had seen me. It was my secret.
The farm was rebuilt, and is still known as Sandy farm today.

In October 2005 I searched old copies of our local paper, "The Farnham Herald". I found the following article in the edition dated 12th August 1944.
"Flying Bomb Deaths"
Casualties and damage occurred at a small diary farm in south east England last week when a flying bomb landed in the centre of a group of farm buildings. The farmer with Mr Kirk, Mrs Davis and her 13 year old daughter Doreen were killed immediately. The farmhouse and various outbuildings, including the dairy were demolished and cows and poultry killed.
The local fire service were soon on the spot and superficial damage was immediately attended to. The telephone service which was broken was repaired in a short time and public services were soon functioning normally. (Note the propaganda aspect of the article).

The following week's paper announced the funeral of Mrs FC Martin and Mrs Kirk.

Now I actually live overlooking the farm.

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