大象传媒

On the night of November the 24th 1940, there was the huge Blitz, which destroyed the commercial centre of Bristol.

On the afternoon of Sunday the 24th of November 1940 I went from my home in Bishopston, up to my Aunty Dorothy who lived in Radnor Road in Horfield. I had gone up to have tea with my Aunty Dorothy and at quarter to seven in the evening the air raid sirens went. Aunty Dorothy did not know whether to send me home or to keep me there, what would be safest. But it was decided that I could run fast and that it would probably only take me quarter of an hour to get home and that nothing awful had happened, there was no gun fire at the beginning.

So off I set along Radnor Road, down Gloucester Road, by the time I鈥檇 got to St Michael鈥檚 Hill, near my church, all hell was let loose. There was gunfire, shrapnel falling and the noise was terrific. I wanted to keep going because I did not want to end up in a shelter, which were brick built buildings at the end of roads and there was one at the end of Berkeley Road. I did not want to end in there because they always smelt horrid. So I kept going, but by the time I got down to Berkeley Road I was grabbed by an air raid warden, who collared me and said 鈥淵ou are coming into this shelter, its dangerous!鈥� I did try to say that I didn鈥檛 live a lot further; I mean it was still about ten minutes away, but he wasn鈥檛 to know. However he wouldn鈥檛 let me go and I ended up spending the next five hours in the shelter, until about one in the morning.

The shelter was quite full of people because they had been coming out of Church. In the area there was the Baptist church, the Methodist church and St Michael鈥檚 church which was C of E, these were all evacuated. Many people tried to get home but some people went into the shelter and I suppose it was quite full.

During that time I could hear the raid, the noise was tremendous and the crunches were tremendous, but of course I did not know what was going on outside. There were some hysterical ladies who were certain we were going to die, although I had no fear, I did not think that I was going to die.

Any way about I suppose one o鈥檆lock in the morning there was a lull and we were let out to go home. I came out and I remember seeing the whole sky full of red, flame, it looked as if the whole world was on fire. I took off and ran home.

My mother and father were out in the road. This is what seemed to happen, people came out into the road and congregated after a raid, really to find out what people thought had happened and where had been destroyed. My brother was collecting shrapnel, which my mother hated him doing. Then off we went to bed.

I went to the Junior Commercial school, which had only been in existence for about a year. We were originally a north Bristol central school. All the Bristol central schools had been amalgamated and been turned into a technical school and a commercial school. My school was in a little turning off the beginning of Castle Street. It was built on the old ruins of the castle and when we were at school and there was an air raid, we used to be sent down into what used to be the dungeons. We would go through a hole in the playground, descending through a trap door and down a metal ladder. The dungeons were complete with metal rings and what I used to think of as blood stains, although I don鈥檛 expect that they were.

The next morning my mum set me off to go to school. Well, I got down to Zetland Road and there was no transport. No buses, nothing running and nobody knew quite what was happening. Everybody assured me that it would be better if I walked to try and get to Old Market, which I often used to do anyway to save my bus fare. So off I set.

When I got to Stokes Croft I had to turn off down Philadelphia Street and there was absolute and utter devastation. The whole of the street had collapsed into rubble and there were hosepipes and water everywhere. I thought, I wondered how bad it would be a little further on. So I thought if I was careful and no one sees me then I will be able to get a bit further and see a little more.

So I hopped over the hosepipes. The middle of the road was fairly clear, just a brick or two with the hose pipes curling here and there. I could not see a soul, but I could hear people working in the distance. No one was in the least bit interested in me and I did not see another soul walking around, so I kept on going. I got down as far as Portland Sq, then Brunswick Sq and thru into Old Market. There was devastation everywhere. I leapt over bricks and I leapt over hosepipes. Nobody saw me, which was what I wanted as I did not want to be recognised and sent home.

I got to Bon Marche in Old Market Street and I realised that there was nothing left except bits of flooring and smoke and steam and models lying in disarray, in the rubble, with no clothes on. I thought 鈥淕oodness!鈥�

There were still firemen working in there I could tell as there were still hoses everywhere and I could see movement. I thought, any minute now I am going to be discovered! I wanted to look round the corner, as round the corner was Castle St and my school. Then I looked round the corner and there was absolute and utter devastation. Castle St was no more. The wall of my school, which I recognised as it was old and Victorian and two story, was standing alone. You could see the window and the top part of the wall high above the rest.

At that moment, one of the firemen caught sight of me, a thirteen year old girl in her gabardine mac standing amidst the rubble and let out a stream of rude words. He said what on earth was I doing here and Get Home! It is dangerous!

So then I thought I鈥檝e seen enough, there is no school to go to, I must go home. So I turned tail and I don鈥檛 have any memory of going home. I must have gone the same journey as I did coming but I don鈥檛 remember it.

After that we were sent to another school in the area, I can鈥檛 quite remember where, it was near in a park and just round the corner from Courage brewery and next door to a tannery, which was very smelly and there I finished my education.

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