大象传媒

Note: This story has been entered by a volunteer on behalf of Delphine Higgs. The author has seen and agreed to the People's War House Rules.

Well, back in Bristol there was no hope of going back to school, the school was now in Clevedon and I would have been miles behind all of my old school friends. I had some knowledge of shorthand and commerce and my typing was pretty good, I would enrol at MV. (Merchant Venturers Technical College) in Unity Street and go to Night School to finish the course. There was only one problem, there was no Night School, due to the bombing it had been changed to Weekend School and this would mean no free Saturdays or Sundays, never mind, I joined.

Naturally, I would have to get work so I answered an advertisement and was taken on but after even one day I knew that that office was not for me, I left. My Dad advised me and asked, where would you like to work? A reliable Company in nice surroundings, I replied. I decided I would like to work for the Gas Company in Radiant house, next to the Colston Hall. I wasn鈥檛 interested in Gas but I thought it was a fabulous modern building, and as I couldn鈥檛 follow Art for a career and was condemned to Commerce I might as well work in a place I admired. I wrote, was interviewed and accepted. I was very happy there, and so started the happy era of having a boy friend.

My mother, who had worked until I was born, decided to return to work at the same time as myself, she took a job as forewoman with Stokes, the manufacturing chemist at the bottom of Lower Castle Street, makers of Eclipsol Hair Cream. One morning in August we set off to work together as usual and I continued on to the Centre. We had remarked that, as a temporary measure, the buses that usually started from Carey鈥檚 Lane and Old Market were now transferred to the wide area at the junction of Broadweir, Narrow Weir, Elibroad Street, Philadelphia Street and Lower Castle Street, mother said it was much busier there with more people about.

I hadn鈥檛 been in the office very long when there was one almighty crash. Employees all retreated to the basement and there we sat on packages and wondered what in the world had happened. Some fellows, Fire Watchers, went up on the lovely flat roof where we spent our lunch hours and reported that there was a pall of smoke in the Old Market direction. We continued with our work, but soon messages were coming in about our lady Meter Readers, who in those days went to their allotted districts by bus, some were reported killed and others injured as they were setting off on their journeys from Broadweir. Without any Air Raid Warning, a single bomb had dropped on three stationary buses in that busy area, it was very bad and there were lots of casualties.

It was nearly lunchtime and I was allowed to go and see if my mother was alright. Lower Castle Street at the corner of Castle Street was cordoned off and police were keeping crowds of people from entering. I knew my way around. I went back up Castle Street into Tower Street, passing the burnt out shell of my old school in the hope of looking over from Castle Green to see if the building where my mother worked was still standing. Unable to go down to where the terraces of houses used to be the only chance was to carefully make my way through one burnt out building (the very old Merchants Venturers I believe) and look out of the window space. Unfortunately I was not tall enough to see anything. Determined, I made my way
Back to the top of Lower Castle Street, pushed my way through the crowds and persuaded a Policeman that I MUST go through to see if my mother was alright. I wouldn鈥檛 take 鈥淣o鈥� for an answer. I was allowed through. The area was full of emergency workers but I went straight to the damaged building where my mother worked. The Despatch Shop was being used as a First Aid Station and a fellow worker told me my mother was shaken but alright and had gone home.

Hurrying back home to Sussex Street I found that my father had had the same idea, he had shut the shop and had gone to discover if my mother was alright or.... However, he had arrived back at the shop before Mum had arrived home as many people had stopped her to find out what had happened and why she looked dirty with bits of glass in her hair. As he started to panic and return to the awful scene, Mum came around the corner and he was able to grab hold of her.

At the time the bomb fell, mum had been in the Workshop at the back of the building supervising her girls filling containers under a glass roof. During previous months Mum had often complained about the shell of the burnt our Castle Green School towering above the Workshop, it didn鈥檛 look safe, but she had been told that it had been inspected and was OK. Only recently an old lady, a real character from The Dings, Annie Etford, had been killed when the wall of a burnt out building in Victoria Street had fallen upon her 鈥� and that was also supposed to be safe! As there was no Air Raid Warning, the shudder of the bomb, falling masonry and crashing glass gave Mum the impression the old school had collapsed on them. She calmed the girls, some of whom had minor cuts, and saw them safely out of the building into a nearby Air Raid Shelter, then having reported them all safe she sent them home.

Mum always said she would never forget the appalling shimmering atmospheric vision that greeted he when she came out of the building. Apart from the devastating unexpected scene of the bombed buildings and burning buses, the many pedestrians, who minutes before had been walking, were all lying on the ground. Beside herself, she wondered what she could do for them. She was told 鈥淣othing鈥�, nothing could be done for them, they were all dead, killed by the blast. A terrible, terrible day.

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