大象传媒

Thursday the 12th. of December had been like any other day. I had been to school and my father had been to work. My mother had done her usual chores and had prepared the evening meal in anticipation of my father returning home from work. The blackout had been in place from about four-o-clock and because the weather was frosty the fire had been built up. When my father came home we sat down to eat and by six thirty the table had been cleared and I was playing with a Hitler puppet in front of the fire. This puppet had been bought in Blackpool and was simply cardboard cut-out of Adolf Hitler with a broad black belt and arms and legs which would swing sideways when the puppet was made to jump up and down. It was operated by a long piece of black cotton, which passed under the arms and along the black belt and was tied to a suitable support at one end. By pulling the cotton to make the puppet jump it appeared to make Hitler dance without any visible means of support. Just before seven-o-clock the anti-aircraft guns began firing and almost simultaneously, the sirens sounded the 鈥渁lert鈥�. This sequence of events was highly unusual. When my father and I looked out of the backdoor the gun flashes and searchlights were in full operation and the sound of falling shrapnel from the anti-aircraft shells could be heard falling in the yard and in the road. The moon was full and my father decided that it would be best if we retired to the Anderson shelter as soon as a lull in the firing occurred. Air Raid Wardens were moving around and one of these advised us to get into the shelter as soon as we could. It was also apparent that this raid was going to be different to any we had experienced before. The typical sound of the German bombers was evident as they passed overhead and this was accompanied by an increase in the anti-aircraft gun activity. The guns had two distinctive sounds; one type sounded like a firework exploding in a drain pipe whist the other was a more normal type of explosion. Exploding shells in the air showed up as sparks of light and were accompanied by the sound of a distant explosion like a 鈥渨oof-woof鈥� noise. By half past seven we had got into the Anderson shelter with the cat Peter and the dog Trix, and my father had put a lighted candle into one plant pot while placing a second on top to give some heating. This form of heating was quite efficient in a small space such as that available in the shelter. The doors, which my father had put at the entrance, stopped cold air coming into the shelter and meant that we could have a second candle as a source of lighting. A double tiered bunk was on one side of the shelter and a small table and a stool completed the furnishings. All these had been made by my father to make it as comfortable as he could. Normally, we would only spend a short time in our shelter when there was little air raid activity but tonight it was obviously going to be a different state of affairs. The anti-aircraft gunfire became spasmodic as the waves of bombers flew over and, at one point there was a series of bursts of machine gun fire as a passing bomber fired at the barrage balloon on Wincobank Hill. By about nine-o-clock the raid had seemed to settle down into a pattern and I was laid on one of the bunk beds listening to the noise of the guns and the sound of passing planes. No bombs were dropping in our area and, listening to the noise of the Blitz, I could hear the distant hiss of falling bombs followed by the 鈥渃rump鈥� noise of the explosions. My mother kept insisting that the noises I could hear were anti-aircraft guns and not bombs which I think she did to try and stop me being afraid. During the periods when there was very little activity either my mother or my father would go back into the house to brew some tea and on these occasions I was allowed out of the shelter for a short period. Apart from the night being lit by a full moon it was also quite frosty. It was what was known as a 鈥渂ombers moon鈥� type of night. At some point I fell asleep despite the noise of the raid and I think my mother and father also went to sleep. One thing, which, in retrospect, surprises me, is the fact that I didn鈥檛 feel any fear. The whistling bomb, which fell near Jepson Road, caused me more anxiety than any which I felt during the course of this air raid.

I was awakened by a roaring noise and my father leaping off his stool and going towards the shelter door which had swung open. He put his arm through the metal hoops, which he had made to keep the door shut. The sound of a nearby explosion caused the door to swing open again and nearly pulled my father out into the garden. After scrambling back into the shelter my father managed to close the door and he held it while the sound of falling bricks and slates outside the shelter subsided. There was a period of total silence following this, very much like there had been after the Jepson Road bomb. Once my father was satisfied that no further explosions or other incidents were likely to happen he went outside to see what had happened. Although the night was moonlit it was very difficult to judge any damage to either our own house or any others. My mother said she ought to go to the central shelter to see if anyone was hurt which my father quickly vetoed. His view was that if they needed my mother to carry out any first aid they would come and get her. Shortly after this entire disturbance the sirens sounded the 鈥渁ll clear鈥� and people began to move about outside. The 鈥渁ll clear鈥� sounded about four-o-clock so the bomb, which had fallen, must have dropped about three-o-clock to half past three.

When it began to get light my father went out to see what damage had been done. He stood in the back yard of our house looked up at the gaping windows whose glass had totally disappeared and said, 鈥� Bloody hell our house.鈥� Mr. Coleman, who lived next door, was standing on his step as my father made this exclamation. 鈥淣ever mind the bloody house.鈥� he said, 鈥淛ust look at me!鈥� My father turned towards him and again exclaimed, 鈥淏loody hell! What鈥檚 happened to you?鈥� Mr. Coleman鈥檚 boiler suit was just hanging from his shoulders and the shirt underneath was all torn. His face was black with soot and his eyes shone out of his face like two white balls. Mr. Coleman went on to explain that he had heard a plane go over and had gone to the back door to look outside. As he opened the door a brilliant bluish white flash had occurred over towards Heather Road and Foxglove Road. The next thing he remembered was lying on the top of the table in the front room of the house with the back door on top of him and still holding the back door knob. The middle door between the kitchen and the front room had disappeared and the front windows had only two panes of glass broken. Just where the middle door had gone remained a mystery. The roofs of all the houses on our side of the Green were badly damaged and only the side of the terraces facing Bracken Road appeared to show little damage. When we went into our house the floor was covered with about four inches of soot from the chimney and our canary was also covered in soot but appeared to have suffered little damage. The stairs leading up from the front door were damaged and unsteady and the bed in the bedroom facing the Green had a kerbstone from the road across the bed head. Pieces of glass had penetrated the wooden bed head and a large hole in the ceiling showed where the kerbstone had entered the room. My mothers lace curtains at the front of the house had turned a bright shade of purple from the fumes from the explosive and there was a pungent smell from the residual fumes. The kitchen window had completely gone and with there being no fire, or the possibility of making one, we all got washed in cold water before an open unglazed window.

After looking at the damage to our own house my father went to find out just what had happened. The houses facing on to Heather Road were completely without any roofs at all and the ones at the junction with Foxglove Road were only partially standing. A pile of rubble showed where the houses had been which got the major effects of the blast from the bomb. When my father returned he brought a piece of silk rope with him, which was about four feet, long and coloured light green. The bomb, which had fallen, was in fact a land mine. This had descended on a parachute and had exploded on the corner of Foxglove Road and Heather Road. The houses closest to the point of impact had been completely destroyed and there was a crater, which was about eight feet deep, and twelve feet across directly on the corner of the two roads. By about eight-o-clock the number of curious folk and other spectators had started to increase and the other residents on the Green were circulating and discussing what to do next. One or two of them had been in the centre of Sheffield at the cinema when the raid started and had made there way home as they could through the bombing. They told us that the centre of the town was ablaze and the damage was very severe. Some others had started to make there way home after the raid finished and had spent the night in shelters in the town centre. It was obvious that the properties around the Green and those of the other Greens close by the crater were uninhabitable and we were going to have to make alternative arrangements. We had nowhere to go except to Sharrow and we weren鈥檛 sure what we would find when we got there. While my mother was packing what she could into cases and getting the dog and cat ready to go with us rumours started to circulate about who had been injured and the local Air Raid Warden told us that a second land mine had dropped near Daffodil Road. We were instructed to try and make our homes a secure as we could and to leave a contact address with the local Air Raid Warden post under the school.

It was about nine-o-clock when my father, mother, me and the dog and cat began to make our way towards Firth Park. The cat escaped from the box my mother had managed to find and he disappeared back towards the house. My mother wanted to fetch him but my father said he would probably be all right for the time being. The dog, on the other hand, went like a lamb as she invariably did when my mother was there. The effects of the land mine were concentrated around our Green and the two adjacent Greens to the explosion and most of the residents were either making their way towards Firth Park or were going in the opposite direction towards Newman Road and Wincobank. By the time we got to the top of Bevercotes Road there was little sign of any bomb damage and at Firth Park shopping centre it was like it always had been. It appeared that we were unlucky since the two land mines, which had affected us and the residents of Daffodil Road, were the only explosive devices to have come down in our general area. There were no trams in operation and no buses. It was obvious we would have to walk into town and, hopefully, across it. We headed out along Stubbin Lane towards Barnsley Road and Firvale. There we were bombed out and walking into an unknown set of circumstances and not knowing when we would be able to return. My school had been made unusable and Christmas was just around the corner. Heaven only knew what we were going to find at our journey鈥檚 end and so we began our trek towards the city centre.

We walked to Firvale and then up Barnsley Road towards the Toll Bar. All the way there was no signs of any bomb damage. There were plenty of pieces of shrapnel on the road and path and I began collecting some of these as we walked. By the time we reached the Toll Bar at Pitsmoor there was some evidence of broken windows and the occasional slate missing from the roofs. The first major damage we saw was at Christ Church. The whole of the roof had been blown off and was hanging down the side of the church. Nearly all the windows had been broken and a number of properties around were also damaged. As we approached the Wicker bomb damage was becoming more frequent and in the Wicker Arches there was a hole in the arch and the chassis of a tram on the track directly below it. The bodywork had gone and it was obvious that a bomb had gone through the arch and had exploded destroying the tram and bringing down the overhead wires. The road towards Ladies Bridge was littered with debris and the occasional tram. Overhead wires were down and the bomb damage was beginning to be severe. When we got to Exchange Street, Rigby鈥檚 Opticians shop was still burning and a policeman stopped us going any further and directed us along Blonk Street and towards the Midland Station. By this time the amount of bomb damage was quite high. Incendiary bombs covered by sandbags were scattered around on the ground. Beyond the Midland Station we made our way along Shoreham Street and towards St Mary鈥檚 Road. We passed a number of bomb craters and damaged houses were more prevalent than undamaged buildings. The smell of smoke and explosive fumes was very strong and a number of people were walking to unknown destinations. Eventually we arrived at London Road and made our way up Cemetery Road, Washington Road and up Mackenzie Street to Fentonville Street. There was no visible damage to my Grandmothers house although no one was at home when we tried the door. Leaving my father seated on the case outside the back door my mother and me made our way to my Aunt Ida鈥檚 house on Washington Road. My Grandmother Crossland was seated in a chair when we went into the house. 鈥淲here鈥檚 our Ted?鈥� she asked in some alarm. 鈥淗e鈥檚 sat outside your house on the case.鈥� my mother replied. At this Grandma fainted! 鈥淲hat鈥檚 the matter?鈥� asked my mother. 鈥淵ou had better get him back down here.鈥� Replied my Aunt, 鈥淭here鈥檚 an unexploded bomb in the next yard!鈥� My mother rushed out of the house and returned about ten minutes later with my father who was not amused at being left close to an unexploded bomb and who was very disparaging about the local constabulary and their lack of supervision of the area. Shortly afterwards a police constable came and informed us the 鈥渂omb鈥� was, in fact a fish fryer from Pearl Street fish shop which had received a direct hit. The pan had travelled about four hundred yards through the air before embedding itself in the asphalt of the yard next to my Grandmothers house. After receiving this news we all went back to Fentonville Street and the nights events were discussed at some length as was the accommodation arrangements for my parents and me. It was decide that I would sleep on the sofa downstairs and my mother and father would have a spare room upstairs. This was how it was to be until after Christmas and the New Year. There was no further air raid on the Friday night and after the problems of Thursday a good nights sleep was more than welcome.

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