大象传媒

Bryan Holley, November 2003

On the morning of Sunday September 15th 1940, now known as Battle of Britain Day, my sister aged ten and I, aged five, were taken from our school in Sumner Road Peckham, by bus to a London railway station. There were frequent air-raids as we waited all day for our train to Chester, and we were forced to take shelter many times. In the general melee of thousands of children trying to escape London, we became parted from our school group, and were ushered onto a train that eventually took us to Olney in Buckinghamshire. We just followed the crowd, off the train and onto coaches until we arrived in the small village of Emberton. The local evacuation officer soon found that she had two extra and unexpected evacuees to find homes for. It was late evening when a very kind Mr. And Mrs. Burk agreed to take us in.

We returned to London in September 1941, when although the bombing had eased it was sporadic and we spent many nights in our garden air-raid shelter, and many schooldays in the school basement amongst hot water pipes and boiler coke. In the Autumn of 1943 we were forced out of our little terraced house when it became too unsafe due to bomb blast. Just four months later at 9.00pm on February 15th 1944 three bombs landed very close to our new home in Commercial Way Peckham. Our house and many others were completely destroyed; many of our school friends and neighbours died. By some chance my sister and I, together with our parents, our wired haired terrier dog, and our old black cat were pulled relatively uninjured from the debris. It was snowing and very cold. We had lost almost everything we owned, furniture, clothing, even toys, for what the bombs hadn鈥檛 destroyed, looters soon took.

Another four months past and on a June night, we left the Anderson shelter in the garden of our next home in Elmington Way Camberwell, to join our new neighbours and cheer the sight of German bombers apparently on fire and crashing. Next day we learnt in The Daily Mirror, about the new V1 terror weapons.

I was sent to South Wales and safety, but was immediately branded by the local teachers as 鈥� The cockney boy who cannot read鈥�. They took great delight as using me as an example to the village children whenever they were caught not paying attention to their lessons.

Back in London at the end of the war I was more sympathetically treated by the teachers of Brunswick Park School, near Camberwell Green. I took the eleven plus exam, went Grammar School, and on to further education. Now happily retired I look back on an eventful life, and a successful career. I have a great marriage and a grown up family of whom I am very proud.

bryan.holley@btinternet.com

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