大象传媒

I was born in 1936 in Bow, and my father worked for the Metropolitan Water Board. Sometime prior to 1939 we moved to Valance Wood Road in Dagenham & Dad joined up in the Royal Army Medical Corp.
I suppose that my childhood was pretty normal for the times, caerrying my gas mask everywhere (I was very disappointed that I was too old to have a "Mickey Mouse" mask), collecting shrapnel and watching "dog-fights" in the skies over Essex.
Everything changed, however in January 1944. My father was already overseas in North Africa when at about 9 pm on the evening of January 29th our house took a direct hit from an oil bomb, which penetrated the Morrison shelter where my mother, myself & the next door neighbour & her children were sheltering.
I remember being trapped in the burning shelter and can still remember the criss-cross burns on my hands. Someone pulled me from the wreckage and carried me to a neighbours house. I was taken to Rush Green hospital in Romford with severe injuries to my left leg and multiple burns.I was in that hospital for most of 1944, but nobody told me until almost Christmas, that my mother had died of her injuries on 30th January that year.
Whilst in Rush Green, the hospital was bombed several times & I had a few lucky escapes. I was befriended by an Italian prisoner-of-war and an R.A.F chap, and they put blankets over my bed to protect me from splintered glass. They also helped me to learn to walk again.On June 16th 1944 the hospital was hit by several doodlebugs and 8 nurses were killed in one ward alone.
After I came out of hospital I was cared for by various aunts before being brought to Tunbridge Wells in 1946 to join my father & his new wife.
My father never talked about the war years, or my mother, so it was not until 1983, when an uncle made a chance comment about the churchyard and funeral of my mother, was I able to locate her grave.Nearby was the grave of our old neighbour & one of her children, who also died as a result of the Oil Bomb.Her name was Lillian Newton and her son was Peter, aged 3.I vaguely remember there being two older children in the family but have been unable to find any further information.
My wife & I go every year to the Churchyard in Whalebone Lane North to leave flowers for my mother, Florence May Hodson & for her friend & neighbour, Lillian Newton.
In 2002 following a house move, we found a picture of a Sicilian family amongst my late father's papers & decided to write to the address on the back of the photo. Much to our delight there were still members of the original family at the address and they contacted us by letter & telephone. It transpires that my father met them in 1943/1944 during the invasion of Sicily and had supplied them with food and other basic necessities. The children of the family both remember my father visiting their house frequently. In June 2003 we visited Sicily and stayed with our new Sicilian friends and are hoping that sometime soon they will return the compliment & visit us in England.
Sadly neither my father or the Sicilian parents are alive, but we are certain that they would be thrilled to know that 60 years on, we have rekindled their friendship.

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