大象传媒

This story was submitted to the Peoples War web site by Hertfordshire Libraries working in partnership with the Dacorum Heritage Trust on behalf of the authors, Mr and Mrs PF Curtis. The authors fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

ADVERSE FLYING SITUATION.

Pilot training would have been cancelled in unsuitable weather conditions, but Europe was at war and there was an urgent need for pilots.
John was flying over the Canadian countryside that was totally blanketed with a thick layer of dazzling white snow.
On landing the Hawker Hurricane fighter skidded on ice and veered off the runway and ran into snow. Temporarily stunned and disorientated, he opened his eyes; there hadn鈥檛 been any noises, in fact it was totally quiet and extremely bright in the cockpit. John鈥檚 first thought was if this bright light and quietness was death, it wasn鈥檛 so bad.

Mr and Mrs P.F.Curtis

FOOLHARDY DIVE.

John was doing his pilot鈥檚 training in Canada. It was normal daily routine to 鈥榯urn about鈥� if the plane was crewed by two. That is, one day you had control of the aircraft; the next day you were co-pilot/navigator. This particular day, John was not in charge; the pilot was a chap that was known by the other trainee pilots as a bit of a 鈥榟air brain鈥�.
During this training session the pilot inexplicably went into a steep dive. John instinctively knew they didn鈥檛 have that much altitude for such a manoeuvre, closed his eyes and started to pray. There was a bit of a judder and thump, Johns prayer had been answered, the aircraft was still flying.
On landing, they didn鈥檛 go to dispersal, but remained at the far end of the airfield to inspect damage unobserved. They found a dent in the wing, but what was most shocking was the blood. A bucket of water was used to clean away the staining.
A few days later it was learnt that a boy had died falling from a tree locally.
(Experience of a trainee RAF pilot told by P>F>Curtis 鈥� October 2004.

AIR-RAID SHELTER.

For some reason the parents didn鈥檛 have an air-raid shelter in the garden, so, dependent on whether there was an air-raid threat or if the Anderson shelter had not flooded, they would share the neighbour鈥檚.
On this particular night, the Johnson鈥檚 and family huddled in the dank shelter. ~There was a 鈥榯hud鈥�; someone exclaimed, 鈥淭hat was close!鈥� and being curious, the men ventured out to see what damage had been done.
They walked a short distance to the end of the Avenue, turning at the end to walk a little way along Blackshots Lane. Being satisfied and not aware of anything unusual in the blackout conditions, they returned.
Making themselves comfy in the shelter on one of the bunks, they looked at one another on realisation, and commented, 鈥淣o houses!鈥�
In the light of the following morning they retraced their steps to find they had walked to the very brim of a crater, another foot or so and they would have fallen into the flooded depression. Apparently, a portly air-raid warden had died whilst protecting someone.
A legacy of this bombing is that there is now a junction at the point of impact, a road now leads into a post-war housing estate. The disrupted underground electricity cables were temporarily hung from poles north from the point of impact. These cables were still visible above ground in the early 1980鈥檚 and possibly beyond.
Mr and Mrs S Curtis. Narrator P>F>Curtis, November 2004

BIG BEN INCIDENT: HERTFORDSHIRE.

A local farmer then a lad, relates his experience of a V2 coming down in Little Gaddesden, Hemel Hempstead, Hertfordshire at 06.49am.
The most frightening thing he remembers on this 23rd day of March 1945 was an explosion, followed by the super sonic boom, then a whistle created by the 46鈥� (14m) 13 陆 -ton (13.72 metric tonnes) rocket plummeting to earth.
Local knowledge indicated that the only fatalities in this country location were one rabbit and a pigeon.
(experience of Don. Narrator P>F>Curtis October 2004.

ITALIAN EXPERIENCE.

A friend described his disturbing observation whilst fighting in Italy as a marine.
鈥淚 came upon and overlooked a clearing in a shallow valley. It contained a small farm house and attending the land was a man.鈥� He continued, 鈥淭here was an explosion close by, fatally injuring this person. Out of the dwelling ran a lady, who hugged the mutilated body.鈥� He followed this very emotional statement by stating, 鈥淚 went around murdering Germans.鈥�
(experience of Walter. Narrator P.F. Curtis 鈥� October 2004.

D-DAY.

Leading up to and during the Normandy invasion in 1944, southern England was chock-a-block with an assortment of military hardware.
Grays in Essex was no exception, as it lays only a couple of miles northwest of Tilbury docks. Roads around the town were practically a military camp. It was a logistical nightmare.
One area where vehicles were parked was outside Thurrock Hospital, Long Lane.
Father recalls during this period of an accident that occurred whilst he was a hospital in-patient. A motorcycle courier was involved in a head-on collision close to the hospital, resulting in a severe head injury.
The surgeon (Dr Levy) told Stan the following day that he had spent nearly all night, in theatre, trying to save this soldiers life.
The tin helmet the cyclist was wearing was designed to protect the head from airborne projectiles, not road traffic accidents; consequently the interior webbing had penetrated his scull with fatal results.
Cousin John remembers the endless convoys which passed down Whitehall Lane en-route to the back entrance to the docks, via 鈥楯umbo鈥� Bridge. Most memorable part was the Troops; in the rear of the open trucks tossing loose change to the roadside kids, probably in the belief they would not be returning home to 鈥楤lighty鈥�.

This hospital was built initially as an isolation facility, following its military use it became a geriatric unit with some out-patients departments. Some facilities have changed, but it still maintains a medical position in the local community to this day.

Impressions of the tank tracks could easily be seen on the metalled road leading up to and on this narrow and especially constructed bridge, before it was removed prior to the electrification of the railway it crossed.
Experience of Mr. Stan and John Curtis. Narrator P.F.Curtis Nov 2004.

Hazardous Memento
By Mr & Mrs P.F.Curtis

One day walking down the garden in Allenby Crescent, Grays, Essex, I happened to notice displayed on a shelf in a window of a neighbour鈥檚 shed, a silver cylindrical object, which I immediately recognised as an incendiary bomb. On inquiring of it鈥檚 origin, I was told, 鈥淭hat during an air-raid, it had penetrated the roof, bounced down the stairs finishing up on the front door mat.鈥� Being a neighbourly sort, he diligently disarmed it and placed it in the shed. Readers are probably thinking this may be one of the many frightening occurrences witnessed during the 1939 鈥� 45 conflict. No! This was a brilliant summer鈥檚 day about twenty-five years later. A near WW2 experience witnessed by Peter F. Curtis. November 2004.

HAINAULT DANGEROUS DISCOVERY.

A colleague told me of a day shortly following the war when he and other lads were playing around one of the many 鈥榩ill boxes鈥� to be found in Essex. During their games a cache of ordnance was exposed. Items included ammunition, hand-grenades amongst other things.
He told me that he took a round of ammunition home and wondered what would happen if he put it into a hole in the cement washing line post and give it a whack. The bullet missed his Father who was shaving in the kitchen, by inches. Luckily no one was injured.
Parents and authorities gave the lads a severe 鈥榬oasting鈥� for their thoughtless escapade.
Post WW2 experience of Martin, narrated by P.F. Curtis 鈥� November 2004

COMMERCIAL CONFLAGRATION.

Following an air raid on an industrial area north of the Thames, the fuel distribution depot at Purfleet, Essex was burning furiously.
My junior school friend told me his Father, who was in the Auxiliary Fire Service had witnessed the convex tops of the storage tanks flying across the site 鈥淟ike flying saucers鈥� after the fuel irrupted in an orange ball of flame.
Also the residents on Beacon Hill, not a mile away to the northwest, recall they could easily read a newspaper, by the light of the fires, during the night on their doorsteps.
WW2 experience of Hugh鈥檚 Father and Harry. Narrator P>F>Curtis 鈥� November 2004.

TECHNICAL DATA THE FIESELER Fi 103, VERGELTENGSWAFFE (V1), DOODLEBUG.
(Robot flying bomb)

Designer 鈥� Robert Lusser. Construction 鈥� aluminium and thin steel plate.
Manufacturer 鈥� Argus Motorenwerke Company and Fieseler Flugzeugbua.
Labour requirements 鈥� 550 man-hours per flying bomb, excl. explosive and auto pilot.
Dimensions 鈥� length 26鈥� (8metres), wing span 16鈥� (5 metres)
Propulsion 鈥� Argus pulse-jet using low-grade petrol.
Auxiliary requirements 鈥� A ramp for assisted pneumatic launching, four wheeled bogey to generate the compressed gas for the launch, distribution unit for an electrical connection to the launch facility.
Speed 鈥� about 330 mph after 30 miles from launch.
戮 ton (850kgs). Of explosive detonated by three fuses, two impact, one delayed.
Operation ceiling 鈥� 500 鈥� 10,000鈥�, usually 6000鈥�.
A small propeller governed by a counter, which run to a predetermined number of revolutions, thus measuring distance travelled. At the pre-set revolutions were completed two small detonators fired, causing the elevators to alter thus causing the missile to go into a steep dive, also the change in the missiles attitude cut fuel supply to the jet. The weapon was now on a silent dive to earth, on impact causing substantial damage to a large area.

Acknowledgements 鈥� Doodlebugs and Rockets by Bob Ogley Sept 1992 ISBN 1872337 21 X and Danger UXB by M.J. Jappy 2001 ISBN 0 7522 15760
Hitler鈥檚 Terror Weapons by Roy Irons 2003 ISBN 0-00-711263-7
Mr and Mrs P.F. Curtis.

TO DILLY

This poem was by my Dad. He read it out to a house party in 1973 and I managed to record it on magnetic tape.

Before he started reading it out, he said, 鈥淭his is the only surviving letter, paper, poem, of our correspondence during the war. It is dated, June 8th 1944. I wrote it in Italy, to Dilly, my wife.

I didn鈥檛 know I was a poet, but here it is鈥�

To day it is a year ago that I said goodbye to you.
To go away to a foreign land until the war is through

I knew not where I was going, or how long I鈥檇 be away,
And although our hearts were unhappy, we tried our best to be gay.

We talked of our love for each other, of how our love would stay,
And I saw a tear in your eye, dear, and I wished that I could stay.

I knew how much it was hurting, seeing me go away,
I knew that you would cry, you know, when I was on my way.

But soon, the train started moving, and it was getting to its pace.
I took my last look at your cheerful face,
And I waved goodbye to you.

As you were left at the station, I found a moment to pray,
鈥淕od, let me return to my sweetheart; and look after her while I鈥檓 away.

I shall always remember that picture, of you standing there on your own,
Left; with our baby, Sylvia, fighting your battles alone.

And then the train had rounded the bend, and you were lost from my view.
And I was going across the sea and I couldn鈥檛 believe it was true.

I stood for a while at the window, and looked at the hills and the view.
At the roads and the hills and the lanes dear, that I used to walk with you.

And now I am over here dear, and I often dream of you, (with Sylvia on your knee.)
Telling her of her Daddy who is far across the sea.

And I can see her smiling at you, and I can hear her joyful laugh,
As she looks from you to the mantelpiece, and waves to my photograph.

And I can see her sparkling, auburn hair, and I can see her beautiful blue eyes.
And I can see her going to sleep when you sing her lullabies.

So look after her, sweetheart, darling, and kiss her each night from me,
And I shall kiss you for every night missed, when I return from across the sea.

So cheer up little sweetheart, the time? It won鈥檛 be long,
When I鈥檒l be with you darling; so cheer up and carry on.

That day will be a happy day when I get home to you.
We鈥檒l do all the things we want to do, and start our life anew.

(鈥淭hat鈥檚 my poem鈥�)
By

Walter William Munt.

Known in Bratten Wilts, as 鈥淭he Airman.鈥�

UXB

Father had leave from his unit and was travelling east out of London along the East India Dock Road (A13). One of the roads to the left before Bow Creek, Canning Town, London, when he saw displayed a sign 鈥淒anger Unexploded Bomb鈥�

He saw a cylindrical object 10鈥� (3m) long x 2鈥� (0.6m) in diameter, dangling precariously by its cords and 鈥榗hute, all had become entangled in a tree, thus preventing the mine from hitting the ground.
Mother remembers her husband arriving home at Grays in Essex, seventeen miles further along the road, shaking uncontrollably.
Experience of Mr. S. Curtis, told by Mrs Curtis, Narrator P.F.Curtis, October 2004.

THE ROOKERY.

It was the morning of 16th June 1944 and a group of local 鈥榢ids鈥� were enjoying a game in a playing field near a tree covered knoll known as the Rookery. A doodlebug approached from the east, the engine 鈥榗ut out鈥� over the trees. All scattered, the majority running to the trees for safety, one lad made the fatal decision to run towards his home close-by.
At 10.20hrs. this lad was killed, thirty-one were seriously injured and two houses were made uninhabitable when the missile fell into the field close to Rookery View, Grays, Essex.
This young lad was sadly missed from the Wesleyan Sunday School, Dock Road. John Curtis was not amongst this group in the field that morning, but knew him as both attended the same Sunday School.
WW2 Experience of Mr J Curtis, narrator P.F. Curtis 鈥� November 2004.

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