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A Limited view

I was born in 37, 1937 that is, two years before the official announcement of war. No doubt during my first two years on earth there were rumblings in the appropriate quarters by the powers that be for the preparation of the onslaught of devastation that Europe was to endure for the next six years.
But when we’re young, very young that is, the incidents that happen around us have little meaning and as time goes by our memories remember just those ‘incidents’. At the time they happened we had no way of understanding the trauma it must have caused.
Like a host of other families I recall the nights being dragged out of a warm bed by my mother and with her box of essential documents, insurance, bank etc etc, being pulled down the stairs and out of the back door to run stumbling down the brick path and into the shelter. We had an Anderson Shelter, which went deep into the earth, but inside, although a bit smelly we had comfortable beds, a little table, and candles to light when the door was securely closed, so as not to let a glimmer of light show through any cracks, as this might signal to the enemy where we were.
One particular night, we had been in the shelter some time when we heard one of our neighbours shouting for us to come out and see what was happening in the sky, and without exception every family tentatively stuck heads out of the hole in the ground, and then clamber up onto ground level. The attraction was two aeroplanes attacking each other, just above our heads, a German and a British plane. I believe there is a particular name attached to this type of exchange, maybe someone will enlighten me.
So the fight went on for some time, the firing of guns and the splashes of light from that gunfire lighting up the night sky was so fascinating, to me at least for I could only have been about four years old. Everyone was shouting encouragement to our ‘Man’ in the sky (as if he could hear us) but it was a show of solidarity which throughout the war was a part of community life.
Eventually it finished with one of the planes going down in flames unfortunately I don’t remember who won that particular fight, but I hope in was one of ours, because we all cheered.
Another incident, was a time, early morning as I recall, the daylight just drawing and we were in the shelter as usual, except for my dad, he very rarely came into the shelter with us he always stayed in his bed (brave man). However it was a particular bomb that made a whistling noise with a pause of silence for a little while just before it landed and exploded.
And it exploded just about fifty yards from our house on the open field, where I played regularly every day with my friends. My dad and most of the men rushed out to see the damage, they were covered in soot, as the impact had down drafted everyone’s chimney’s. There they were men in pajamas, some in long johns, covered in soot every one, running as a group towards the crater that the bomb had made in the field. After great discussions it was the general consensus that the enemy had been aiming at the railway line which ran along the edge of our small housing estate and they had missed it, and so having solved the mystery they all retreated back to their homes just as the ‘all clear siren’ sounded and the mothers and children were emerging from the shelters. Inside the houses there was broken china, soot everywhere, and the worst of all for us our little budgie was lying dead on the bottom of his cage. My mam said it must have dies from shock, who knows. Anyway the cat was alright.
The next day all of us kids were around the crater, we had been told to keep away but just like kids today we took no notice. We were all curious as to what was at the bottom, it was so deep. And one lad volunteered, he was the tallest in the street and it was decided that because he had long legs he would be the likely candidate to go and investigate. I don’t think he got very far, his Wellingtons kept sticking in the mud so after a while despite our shouts of encouragement he abandoned his quest. I recall his name was ‘Kirkley’ I wonder if he remembers the incident.
There were many nights spent in the shelters and next door to us had a huge shelter, about three times bigger than ours, so sometimes we would be invited in along with some of the neighbours to spend the entirety of the air raid singing songs and telling jokes and drinking tea out of flasks. It was just like a picnic except it was underground.
But as I recall, we were the lucky ones, our area came out of the war intact, except for those who lost loved ones who were serving in the armed forces. It doesn’t bear thinking about the hurt and unnecessary devastation that went on in other parts of our town and the North East. We may be flippant about that time now, but it doesn’t mean we didn’t have the greatest respect for the people who helped save us. Unfortunately, world wide, not many have learned anything from those days of destruction have they?

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