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THE PLYMOUTH BLITZ by Ken Roberts - Part One

The City of Plymouth became uncomfortably within range of the Luftwaffe as soon as the Germans had occupied the Channel Islands and the coastal aerodromes of France. Within about a month of the Dunkirk evacuation there was a raid involving the Cattedown area and, from the Anderson air raid shelter in the back yard, we actually saw a Heinkel 111 flying towards us to drop its bombload; at the same time it was surrounded by anti-aircraft fire which did not, unfortunately, even cause it to swerve away from its flight path. The bombs landed at the junction of Cattedown Road and South Milton Street killing three or four people and demolishing half a dozen houses.

Night raids became more popular with the Germans and more unwanted by those of us on the ground, trying to protect our properties with primitive tools such as stirrup pumps, water and sandbags. More sophisticated incendiary bombs were then fitted with explosives — to kill or wound anyone trying to extinguish them.

On one of the nights while the fires were still burning and people stood around in groups talking about the raid, I recall that the local dairyman, after asking which houses had been blown up, offered to drive along in his Vauxhall Twelve-Six Saloon car with a supply of milk for the bombed-out people; this would have been about one-thirty or two o'clock in the morning, such was his generosity and good nature. The police and wardens stopped him from going because of a nearby unexploded bomb ("UXB"); the people involved were being looked after by the voluntary services already.

At Friary Station marshalling yard one night a train partly loaded with small arms ammunition was set on fire and was still well ablaze by the morning. From the pavement of the main road on Friary Bridge it was possible to look down over and see the blaze, but probably, in retrospect, very unwise to do so. Boys will be boys and quite a few of us on the way to school ignored the police signs "UXB - Do not look over the bridge". Despite the rounds of ammunition being detonated and propelled through the air, no one was injured.

During daylight hours the only British aircraft to be seen in the sky were the Coastal Command Short Sunderlands; they were huge machines compared to the Heinkels and Dorniers of the Luftwaffe and it was always comforting to see them soon after take-off passing overhead loaded with depth charges. The four engines produced a totally different sound when the planes were returning empty from the Western Approaches. They were manned by the Royal Australian Air Force and bore the squadron letters "RB". Everybody got on well with the Aussies and they were frequently to be seen at the local dances and social occasions, not to mention the pubs ! There was never any trouble attached to the Aussies.

It was also a worthwhile experience to see the Sunderlands take off in the waters of Plymouth Sound. The crew would be ferried out to the flying boat from their quarters at Mount Batten and the boat's crew would disengage the plane from its mooring. A few minutes' work of starting up the engines and, once the flying boat was pointed in the right direction, i.e. to slightly south of Drake's Island, all four engines would be revved up and the taxiing would begin. In very little time the surface of the water would be churned up into an arrowhead pattern increasing in size as the speed built up and the plane would take to the air majestically. A most enjoyable sight to see from the top of Plymouth Hoe. Some of us schoolboys would decide there and then to join the RAF when the time came !

After one of the March or April 1941 heavy night raids a group of us cycled into town to have a look at the damage; at the top of Old Town Street there was a wall of flame opposite, enveloping the whole of the Spooners building. Neighbouring shops were also ablaze, making a wall of fire the whole length of the block and there were water hoses snaking around everywhere, firemen working like dervishes and the whole area full of choking smoke and fumes. Even the road surface was on fire in places, thanks to the tarred wooden blocks which adjoined the tram lines. One of the more memorable features of this night was the almost incessant drone of the German bombers; there was very little respite in between the hundreds of explosions. There was nothing we could do except to pedal home and get back to bed - we still had to be up in the morning for school.

End of Part One.

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