大象传媒

Adam, my Carter friend, who stabled his horse in my grandmother's stable had not yet been called up for military service and I still went out with him with his horse and wagon down to the docks although it was getting harder and harder to get my mothers permission. The docks were beginning to become rather a dangerous place to be.
To me though, a young lad, it all still had some sort of attraction.
One day in particular I will never forget.
It was during the school holidays and Adam and I were travelling along the dock road when the air raid sirens sounded off.
The normal thing to do was to stop and take cover somewhere handy.
Not sure just what to do or what to expect, after all, at this time of day it could have been another false alarm, we pulled into the side of the road and stopped the horse.
Adam told me to get off the wagon and stand by the wall. He had just tied the horse to a lamp post when we heard the roar of an engine getting louder and louder.
Before we could do anything else there was an almighty bang and a huge ball of fire rose in the air, back along the way we had just come.
Under the wagon was a large square, swinging cradle fastened to the underneath of the wagon by four chains. On this we carried buckets, horse feed and tarpaulins for covering the load during wet weather.
Adam grabbed me and just threw me under the wagon onto the cradle then hurled himself on top of me. Just as he finished covering us both with the tarpaulin, a plane came swooping and screaming overhead along the dock road. The noise was deafening.
I could hear what sounded like stones falling, 'Who's throwing stones?' I shouted at Adam. 'Just keep still lad' he yelled back at me.
Then we both heard a noise neither of us could fail to recognize, a machine gun or guns. The plane, a German, was following the overhead railway and strafing along the dock road as it went; I was terrified.
The poor horse was stamping and snorting and crying out, pulling on the rope tying it to the lamp post.
The cradle under the wagon with Adam and I on it was swinging about like a canoe in a force ten gale.
Gradually everything quietened down. Some people came running over to us as we crawled out of our makeshift shelter. I don't know just what sort of protection tarpaulin was supposed to give us but then we were in rather a hurry.
'Are youse lads alright there?' somebody called to us. Adam replied yes we were.
Thank goodness the horse was ok. It was still very frightened but gradually became calmer.
Somebody brought some tea over and I remember Adam saying it must have been a docker; those bloke could produce tea at the drop of a hat and out of thin air.
Looking round, we could see, further along the road, smoke rising from the docks and somebody said a ship had been hit and was on fire. In fact the fire engines were just arriving. Also further along the road. what looked like a wagon was lying on its side but there was no sign of a horse or anybody.
In a gateway nearby, a motorbike was burning and a man was trying to put out the fire by peeing on it. A short while later we heard the all clear sounding off.
After a while we got ourselves sorted out and continued on our way; we only did the one load that day before making our way back home to Mould street where the stable was.
That I remember was near miss number two, recalling the Skirving Street bomb.
When we arrived back at the stable I couldn't wait to tell everyone what had happened and of course, it was the worst thing I could have done. My Mam, under pressure from my Grandmothet, lowered the boom and I was banned from the docks forthwith.
No matter how hard I pleaded with her, mam was adamant. The answer was NO!! I'd had it.

漏 Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.