大象传媒

PART 2

The air raids on Coventry started in the autumn of 1940, from about late September onwards. Coventry was a major military target. All the many car factories had turned over to war work. We built armoured cars, every conceivable vehicle for the forces, tank gear boxes, aircraft, machine tools on a large scale, aircraft engines, radios, every kind of equipment imaginable. A factory near us made small anti-aircraft guns, the Bofars 20mm mobile weapon. One was mounted on the roof of the building!!

The first raids were quite small affairs, perhaps 20 or 30 aircraft. Hillfields suffered quite a bit as the bombers were trying to hit the Ordnance works, a huge place built during the First World War(1914-1918), or before that actually, and still making huge Naval Guns.

When the Air Raid Warning sounded (sirens were mounted all across the city and sounded a warbling 鈥渦p and down鈥� note) we would grab coats and blankets, ready filled Thermos flasks etc and troop into the Anderson shelter, which we shared with our neighbours. Dad had built benches along either side to sit on and he later built bunks so that we could sleep there. We had candles for lighting and if nothing much was happening would play cards or a board game. As the months wore on the raids got heavier and on many occasions the sirens sounded but Coventry was not attacked. However the bombers droned over to attack places like Birmingham or even Liverpool. We could stand in the garden and see the glow from the fires in Birmingham and the anti-aircraft flashes in the sky. Birmingham is 18 miles away!! We also felt relieved when it was them and not us!! One night the bombers attacked Birmingham until about midnight and suddenly switched to Coventry and suddenly there were fires blazing and bombs raining down on our town.

Several times when the 鈥淎ll Clear鈥� sounded (a long continuous note on the sirens) we would find that the water mains had been cut or gas or electricity had been cut off, so we cooked on our coal fire and lit candles in the house until the mains were repaired.

I think there were about 350 alerts in Coventry and of those bombs were dropped on 42 occasions. It all got a bit wearing.

After a bombing raid, of course, people whose houses had been destroyed or damaged had to find accommodation somewhere and a series of 鈥淩est Centres鈥� were established across the city. One of these was in St Margaret鈥檚 Church Institute at the bottom of our street manned by ladies from the church under the supervision of the Vicar and his wife. My mother was one of the helpers. The hall was equipped with steel two-tier bunks and the kitchen used to provide hot drinks and as soon as the all-clear sounded, if it had been a bombing raid, my mother would be off down the street to open up and get the kettles on for hot drinks. Soon the police or Air Raid Wardens would be shepherding bombed-out people into the hall, many carrying a few belongings or a bird in a cage, or a dog with them and would stay and sleep there, sometimes for a few days, until accommodation could be found for them. Food supplies and sometimes water, supplied by tankers, were delivered by the council.

With mother away, Dad and I had to fend for ourselves. My birthday tea on my 13th birthday was a cold sausage sandwich!

After one of the raids mother came back to say that the Rest Centre could not be opened as a Delayed Action (DA) bomb had landed on a house opposite the Institute. Here lived Jim Curry, a playmate of mine, and his family. About an hour later with a great roar the bomb exploded and soon after that mother appeared with a hysterical Mrs Curry. It transpired that Mr Curry had ignored the warnings and gone back into the house to retrieve his gold watch and was there when the bomb exploded. After a while Mrs Curry calmed down a bit but then suddenly reared up, screaming and crying 鈥� she had suddenly remembered that her eldest son had gone in with his father. I can well remember standing in the doorway of the Institute with Mum and the Vicar listening to the sounds of the Rescue Squad digging for the two bodies.

One of the families in our street was the Whitehouse family. Christine Whitehouse was in my class at school in the Junior School. When the Air Raid warning sounded the family always ran a few streets away to shelter in the basement of a small factory in King Richard Street where Mr Whitehouse worked. One night the factory was set on fire and the people in the cellar all perished.

Another lad I was at school with, Ian Hudson, a particular friend of mine, lost his father who was sheltering under the railway bridge near Gosford Green. A bomb landed nearby and he was caught by the blast and died instantly.

Sometimes there was a humorous side to it all. One night, during a lull in a raid, my father and his brother, Uncle Herbert, and our next door neighbour, Mr Pratt, were dancing the Highland Fling to the sound of a wireless turned up loud in the yard behind the houses. We never even heard the bomber droning over but suddenly there was the whistling noise of a stack of bombs falling. The three men came hurtling through the entrance to the shelter and landed in a heap on top of one another. We all had a good laugh 鈥� afterwards.

By this time many people were travelling out of Coventry at night to sleep in the surrounding countryside and for a few weeks Dad sent Mum and I out to Fillongley, a village about 5 miles north of Coventry where we rented a bedroom in a council house. Mum went out by bus and I took to cycling out to join her. Thus it was that we were out of town on the night of November 14th 1940, the night of the Coventry Blitz.

It was a brilliant moonlit night, a 鈥淗unters Moon鈥�, (the German raid was codenamed 鈥淢oonlight Sonata鈥�). We heard the warning sirens quite early, about 6.45pm, and as the raid developed it became obvious that this was something really big. Dad had just got home from work when it started. Mum and I watched in awe as the sky turned bright red with the glare of all the fires, the flashes of the anti aircraft shell on top of it all. We really never slept that night.

In the morning a car owner gave Mum a lift into town and I set off on my bicycle. When I entered Coventry many of the streets were littered with bricks and rubble, burnt and damaged houses everywhere. From the top of Bishop Street I saw that Broadgate was just a heap of smouldering ruins. I later discovered that the cathedral was destroyed. I finally turned into our street not knowing what I would find. The street was intact, or so it seemed, but every house had holes in the roof caused by flying debris, all windows and many doors had been blown in. My father was still alive 鈥� relief. There was, of course, no water, gas or electricity. Dad decided that we should all go back to Fillongley to get a good night鈥檚 sleep and then return and start again. (I think that like so many people he was a little 鈥渟hell shocked鈥� and didn鈥檛 quite know what to do for the best). This time we walked to Fillongley but due to diversions for unexploded bombs, streets cordoned off and broken, blazing gas mains, it was nearer 10 miles that we walked. It seemed as though everyone was walking, in many cases not knowing what they were doing or where they were going. We were walking along Harnall Lane when, with an almighty roar, an unexploded bomb, a DA, blew up behind the houses. Debris soared into the air and arched over in all directions. We crouched in a doorway and I watched a huge piece of brickwork hit the top corner of a house across the road, taking the corner away with it.

The next day we came home to our damaged house 鈥� no water, gas or electricity. We had no windows so we kept the blackout up to keep out the weather. Buckets and bowls were put under the holes in the bedroom ceilings to catch the rain. We swept the house out. Mum went to the rest centre and Dad went back to work, where he was engaged in clearing up the damage at the factory. (The Humber Motor Co was back in business within a couple of weeks making army vehicles). At home we slept downstairs.

During the next few weeks repair squads came and first put tarpaulin sheets over the roof and then nailed sheets of translucent material over the windows. It let light in but you could not see out!! Later the roof was properly repaired with new slates and by Christmas we had water, gas and electricity back again. When the gas came back on the pressure was so low that it took half an hour to boil some water and during this period we were able to obtain water from the tanker lorry, which brought water to the Rest Centre at the bottom of the street.

We were better off than many in that we still had the cast iron, coal fired kitchen range in our living room and this had an oven. Many people had had theirs removed and 鈥渕odernised鈥� the house with a tiled grate. This meant we could cook and bake meat and cakes and mother was soon doing this for the neighbours. That Christmas Mum organised a rota, cooking Christmas dinners in the oven. She must have dealt with 12 or 15. The first people ate at about 11am. We got ours about 6pm!! We kept the fire well stoked up!!! This was how people helped each other out at those times.

Life settled down for a while then until Holy Week 1941, the week before Easter. We had two very heavy raids in three nights, 鈥淭he Holy Week Raids鈥�, -one was on Good Friday. These raids were different to the November Blitz in that the Germans seemed to be dropping a higher percentage of high explosive bombs, which was very frightening. We sat in our shelter with the ground shaking hearing the crashes as our newly repaired roof was damaged again. I remember hearing a slick of bombs 鈥渨alking鈥� across our area, each one getting a bit closer. Fortunately the last one fell before it reached us!!!

In all of the 42 raids it was estimated that about 75% of the houses in the town were destroyed or damaged. The city centre virtually disappeared over 2,000 people were killed and are buried in mass graves in London Road Cemetery. Many more thousands were injured. In the November raid alone. By the middle of 1941 the Germans were preparing to attack Russia and the bombers were moved away for that. Air raids on England slowly petered out and by 1942 they virtually ceased.

I am sure you will have seen the TV series Dads Army. The Home Guard was formed in 1940 as a Citizens Army to help defend England and was at first named the 鈥淟ocal Defence Volunteers鈥� Dad joined soon after it was formed. He had fought in the Army during the First World War (1914-1918). The spirit shown on TV was all there, patriotism, a feeling of wanting to 鈥渉ave a go鈥�, a desire to help defend the country at a time of great peril from invasion. Dad鈥檚 platoon, like so many, was based at his place of work, the factory, and on several nights of the week, after a ten hour shift, he would report for training on the factory sports ground or the local park. As the Home Guard became better armed and equipped he would sometimes be away for the weekend on manoeuvres in the country around Coventry. They held church parades at St Margaret鈥檚 Church, which in effect became a garrison church for the morning; many hundreds of properly uniformed men marching in column up Marlborough Road and down Ball Hill to the church, returning via Kingsway to the starting point, just like a 鈥渞eal army鈥�. Dad became Gas Corporal for his platoon. He was elevated to the rank of Lance-Corporal with one stripe on his arm and was responsible for gas masks and anti-gas equipment and training.

It should never be forgotten that when the invasion of Europe by the British and American armies took place in 1944, the Home Guard took over responsibility for the defence of this country to free as many regular soldiers as possible for the attack.

Anti aircraft rocket batteries were later installed in the Memorial Park and at Blackberry Lane, Wyken. These were manned by the Home Guard, not the Regular Army. These were very spectacular when fired.

At the height of the bombing the Government ordered the formation of 鈥淔ire Watching鈥� teams in every factory, office blocks, large stores and in every street. An incendiary bomb is not a large thing, about 3 inches in diameter, 2 feet long, weight 2kg (4lbs) and had fins at the rear end. An aeroplane could carry hundreds and they were dropped by the thousand during an air raid. They burn magnesium and if tackled immediately did little damage but once they set a building alight you had a major fire. Fire watching teams were set up and stayed on the premises overnight. This happened all over the country. Street teams also had their rotas to protect the area. A meeting of all the men in Argyll Street where we lived formed a small committee to organise a rota of four man teams who each spent the night on standby to be immediately available if incendiary bombs fell. The street was issued with five hand operated 鈥渟tirrup pumps鈥� and buckets for water and sand, one pump and buckets in the institute, other pumps and buckets hung on brackets under cover in the entry at the side of our house 鈥� Dad made the wooden brackets!

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