大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People's War site by Anna. She fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

Bombed Out.

"Come up here Ann, it鈥檚 lovely and quiet, no bombs no sirens", said my sister-in-law Dorrie. She had just gone up to London from Southampton, where we were being bombed all day and every day, to be with her husband who was in training in the north. So mum and I thought, 鈥渋t can鈥檛 be bad鈥� and off we went.

The night we arrived there was the first night that the Spitfires had arrived to protect London. Quiet, it was not; we were approximately 2 miles from Northolt Aerodrome and the Spitfires were taking off and landing every 10 minutes or so. What with that, the machine gunning and also that I was sleeping on a 鈥淧ut-u-up鈥� bed that collapsed every time I turned over, I almost wished I was in my own bed, bombs and all; but not quite, at least we didn鈥檛 have the bombs.

However we did decide to go up to London to live anyway as dad鈥檚 business was there and it saved him travelling to and fro. It was also quicker and easier for our husbands to get to London from wherever they were posted in the country. As we left the centre of Southampton a delayed action bomb went off a few yards away from us which made us sigh with relief.

We settled in and one night Dorrie and I went to the pictures. Whilst we were there we heard lots of thumps and bumps which Dorrie assured me was only gunfire. I did not know if she was trying to comfort me or herself but when we got outside we could see that London was indeed on fire. Jerry had sent a 1000 bombers to set fire to London which was 20 miles away but we could see the flames; it was terrifying. Actually though it had been far more frightening in Southampton when we were being bombed every night and all night starting at 6 o鈥檆lock in the evening. At one time we had an air raid warning for three weeks; meaning that Enemy Aircraft were in the area all that time.

I worked in a bank in the suburbs of Southampton, returned one day from lunch and went down to the cloakroom to take my coat off, looked out of the window and there were three Messersmits coming towards us. I dashed upstairs to warn my colleagues and, as you can imagine, they moved pretty fast to take cover in the strong room. When all was clear we went back upstairs to find that we had left the cash all out on the counter, ready for grabs.

Sitting in the Air Raid Shelter one night my father went out to see how things were going and the look on his face told us. He explained we were in the middle of a ring of fire and the Jerries were bombing in the centre of it where we were; we didn鈥檛 expect to come out alive but we did. But, we had had enough and the next day walked into town, no transport or very little, and managed to get a coach, one of only a few, to take us to my Aunt in Swanage. We spent three heavenly months; Dad continued to go to London and I got a job in the Post office overlooking Swanage Bay 鈥� unbelievable. But of course eventually we had to go back home and then to London as mentioned.

As we walked into Southampton to try to get transport and take us to Swanage, a tractor came along towing something that looked like a boat; it was the top of a Tram or Bus. One of the funny sights during the Blitz was when a Cycle shop was blown up and all those cycle wheels went floating up into the air.

Everything became very exciting when invasion time was imminent and we could see the masts of many boats increasing every day. We knew that 鈥淒鈥� day was not far away and came in to find all the boats gone.

Another very very traumatic time was the evacuation of Dunkirk. When the call was made for all those who had a boat and could help in the evacuation of Dunkirk to report for duties, all those little boats, meant only for the river, thousands of them, reported and made their way to Dunkirk. Boats that should only hold about four people were packed with six or eight and the sea was like a mill pond - a miracle.

One day we were shopping in Southampton looking into Mansfields, the shoe shop, when the siren went off. We dived down into the shelter beneath the shop. I managed to find Mum a seat and I stood hanging on to a pillar. The floor was rocking and I couldn鈥檛 hold my balance. That was the day the Gas Works was blown up, although of course we didn鈥檛 know. When we came out of the shelter we expected all the buildings to be in ruins but it was not so; how did that happen ? Of course it was the Gas Works that was in ruins and the gas was still burning about two miles away but it seemed as if the whole of Southampton had blown up.

In London, one very impressive thing happened. I had only been in the Telegraph Office for a few weeks when my husband was coming home on weekend leave, so of course I asked for a day off. The answer was definitely no; so promptly Joan said," you come with me Ann and we鈥檒l see". She took me all round the staff and one person would work an hour for me, another two hours, another half an hour, another three hours and, before I hardly knew what was happening, I had the day off. All to be paid back of course, but so kind; the goodwill spirit was wonderful.

The worst thing that happened to me during the 2nd World War was the loss of my dear husband NORM, 6 months after our marriage. My world, I thought, ended for ever and I felt I would never live again; but life just has to go on regardless and after all, I was not the only one.

Looking back at the very beginning of the bombing, my fianc茅, later my husband NORM, on leave from the RAF, would not come down to the shelter. He had his trousers folded under the mattress to be nicely pressed by morning; never mind the bombs!

Ann Eaton-Barty.

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