大象传媒

I was a young school girl of just sixteen when war broke out. The memories of the horrors of war that I saw daily, still remain strong. I have never forgotten them, nor will I ever. The nightmares still affect me to this day.

Driving along Ferensway in Hull, after the first Blitz night,I still recall seeing Hammonds store blazing and the wax models in the windows melting. On the other side of the road, I saw the tail end of a German bomber sticking out of the Paragon Bus Depot. I burst into tears having never seen anything like it. My father turned to me and said "That's war my dear."

Blitz nights followed Blitz nights and they were horrific, but worse, were the daylight explosions as dangerous building were blown up. Those were people's homes and places of work.

Being a member of the Red Cross, I had to go into the city centre regularly. I do remember watching, one night, thousands upon thousands of incendiary bombs falling. Before I realised the enormity of what was happening, it reminded me of a firework display. It was so fascinating. Then I realised that these devices were falling on the docks (and of course East Hull) lighting the way for the heavy bombers. I became so familiar with the sound of the bombers as they flew over during the night, that I can remember to this day the peculiar throbbing noise that they made.

When the ack ack guns were firing from Costello Playing Field, I remember clearly the strange 'treacling' sound that they made as the shells were fired. Then there was the nightly wail of the air raid siren rousing us to take shelter, always when I was in my deepest sleep.

But the most appalling memory I recall is when I was walking through Victoria Square with my Mother, and looking at the Prudential Tower standing tall and proud on the corner of King Edward Street. Underneath the tower, below ground there was a cafe which people were now using as an air raid shelter. Imagine my horror when I discovered that those people who had fled, seeking safety, were now buried alive. A small woman came up to us and pointed saying, "There are people buried under there. I know what it is like because I've been buried like that, so I am walking round and round here thinking about them." We tried to help her but she was beyond any help. All round Victoria Square there were soup kitchens set up to provide refreshments for the firemen and rescue workers. Everywhere, all over the roads were great thick hose pipes trying to extinguish the fires. No one was brought out alive.

I had an older brother aged 22 (only one). I remember waving good bye to him on the Humber Ferry just before Christmas 1943, he was returning to Northcoates Aerodrome via New Holland, Lincolnshire across the Humber Estuary. Then on 6th January 1944 being told that he was dead with his pilot. His plane had crashed on landing. He was brought home to be buried and without fail every Remembrance Sunday I lay yellow chrysanthemums on his grave. I have carried on this tradition for 59 years now.

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