大象传媒

The year is 1940,"Yours Truly" (Laurence Mumford)is just over four years old and living in LINGDALE ROAD NORTH, CLAUGHTON VILLAGE, BIRKENHEAD, WIRRAL, along with his mum (Lily) and Dad (William -'Billy'). We were proud owners of a MORRISON SHELTER - quite ingenious - to use the steel top as a table and take refuge inside the steel cage underneath when the air-raid sirens sounded!

Regular air-raids by the LUFTWAFFE resulted in the inevitable fatalities unfortunately. when my mother took me to school(Bidston Avenue Infants). I remember the houses which had been hit by bombs the previous evening(s) - too young to take it all in - one of the advantages of being very young. I was rather 'put out'. I remember when some of my class-mates were issued with 'Donald Duck' or 'Mickey Mouse' gas-masks - I had an ordinary one! In retrospect, thank heavens we never had to use them!

The 'DASH' needs to be fully explained. Suffice to say, I had contracted Scarlet Fever and was a patient in St James 'Fever' hospital in Flaybrick Road, Birkenhead.

I remember vividly, a 'NURSE' who approached me holding a kidney-shaped dish containing a hypodermic needle. I saw that there was blood on the needle,told her, and at the same time said that my mum would have washed the needle first! Needless to say, she took no notice of my views and injected me with, I assume the medication, firstly in my arm and then in my posterior!

I was taken home the next day and the fever was disappearing - unfortunately, my left arm started to swell and it became so inflamed that the doctor had to be called. He immediately diagnosed septaecaemia(blood poisoning) and my parents and myself were taken in the doctors car down Borough Road to Birkenhead General Hospital in the middle of an air-raid - travelling at 50mph plus avoiding craters and house bricks in the road - What a Doctor! what a driver!

The operating theatre was in the basement and MR RAWLINSON, the orthopaedic specialist, took three ounces of poison out of my arm - the incision was not stitched in order to allow drainage of more poison.
He undoubtedly saved my life, but I am eternally grateful to my late wonderful parents, the hospital staff and the doctor who 'dashed' us at speed to the hospital.

I have now retired from the teaching profession but when covering WORLD WAR 2 in class (Teaching History and Politics)I told the students about my experiences during the 'BLITZ' and proudly showed them the scar on my left arm - my 'WAR WOUNDS' at the age of four! Incidentally, what alarmed me more than anything else was not the dirty hyperdermic, not the pain in my arm, not the mad dash to the hospital in the middle of an air-raid, or even the mask the anaesthetist put over my face to administer the anaesthetic - it was the bluff, cheery hospital porter who carried me at a run, up four flights of stairs to the ward, and I kept looking down apprehensively at the stairwell, hoping sincerely that he would not drop me!

We moved to West Kirby (Wirral) in 1943 where my mother took over the post office and Stationers in Banks Road - my father was very ill at the time.
We found that the previous owners had been using an 18 pound 'shrapnel' shell (from the First World War) as a door-stop for the heavy front door!
When my uncle came to visit he stated that the shell was 'live' - only the detonator was missing, and he suggested we contact the police! - This we did - but that is another story!

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