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Hitler’s new miracle weapons, VI bombs (commonly known as doodlebugs, buzz bombs or flying bombs) first landed on London in June 1944. At the time my family, Mum and five children, were living in Shepherd’s Bush, West London, on an estate of three-storey blocks of flats. Dad was abroad fighting with the 8th Army in Italy. He went away in 1941, and we did not see him again until 1945.

I was nearly 8. My eldest brother was 13 and the youngest 3. We spent the whole of the War in the London. Mum would not have us evacuated; she did not want to split up the family. She said that if we had to “go”, we would all go together, and on two occasions we very nearly did.

We spent many nights in air-raid shelters, which were above-ground, brick-built buildings, with thick concrete roofs. Inside they were just brick and concrete, with no heating or lighting, an canvas bunks on wooden frames. Definitely not five star. When an air-raid warning sounded, we would get out of bed and scamper across to the shelters with whatever warm clothes we could grab. In the dark we would listen to the squadrons of bombers going over, and our guns firing at them. There was a gun battery about a mile away from us on Wormwood Scrubs. Sometimes we would hear the very distinctive sound of “flying bombs” going over; if the engine stopped, we would listen for the explosion, and hope that it wasn’t too near us. The explosion came about 10 seconds after the engine stopped.

Our first close encounter was when a flying bomb fell about 80 yards away, and destroyed a row of about 10 houses. I don’t know how may died. One of my friends lived in this road, next to the destroyed houses, but he and his family survived, although his house was badly damaged. Several of the windows of our flat were broken. The demolished houses became a wonderful playground for the local children. Safety regulations would not allow it today, of course. The “flying bombs” sometimes arrived during the daytime. We saw one over our estate, quite low, and being “escorted” by two British Fighter planes. Some said that our planes used to look for open ground, and then tip them over, so that they crashed away from people. I do not know whether this was true. I saw another as I was leaving school one day. All the children started running for home, and Mum said that I came running indoors shouting that a buzz bomb was chasing me, as though it was aimed just at me. Fortunately it passed by.

A few months after the start of the VIs, the first of the much more deadly V2 rockets started arriving. The first one fell in West London, and the blast waves were felt several miles away. At first the Government kept quiet about where V2s landed, so that the information did not get back to Germany. They told the public that they were gas work explosions, but the people in West London knew that was not true. V2s were huge bombs, 15 tons in weight with 1 ton warheads. They dropped from a height of several miles.

Our second near miss was from a V2. Just 40 yards or so from our flat a V2 fell on the block of flats next to ours, and completely destroyed 30 flats and most of the people in them. It was in the evening when most were home. I do not know the official figures, but I heard that 75 or more were killed. The bodies that were recovered were laid out in an empty swimming pool in our local park. One of those who died was my little girlfriend that I walked to and from school with every day. Other friends also died. Another casualty was my much treasured Beano Annual that I had loaned to a friend only that day. This friend fortunately survived, but with a couple of broken limbs. I can still picture the whole huge block of flats on fire, with firemen trying vainly to put the fire out. Mum, like many others, spent the night making tea and snacks for the emergency services. I always remember that the tea tasted of soot. Every window of our flat was blown out, and all the glass cabinets indoors smashed. I was sleeping under a window that had been smashed, and Mum told me that when she came into the room I was still asleep; she thought I was dead because I was not moving. Apparently, if you are very close to an explosion, the sound goes over the top, and you are in a vacuum of silence. So I was unaware of the bomb until I was woken up by Mum.

Looking back it all sounds terrifying, but at the time I was never really scared. At my age it was all a big adventure. The bombsites were our playgrounds, and collecting shrapnel was a daily routine; sometimes it was still too hot to pick up. Food was very basic and in short supply; sweets were a rare treat; many fruits that we now take for granted were non-existent, and clothing was difficult to obtain. An aunt used to make us children winter coats out of old blankets, and shirt collars and cuffs were repaired with pieces cut from shirttails. But we all accepted these conditions, and we survived the bombs. But I did miss my Beano Annual!

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