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FLYING GLASS AND BUTTERFLY BOMBS

During World War II my father was in the National Fire Service based in Welwyn Garden City where we lived. In his concern for his family's welfare he was anxious that his children (at the outbreak of the war there were five of us and I was seven years old) should understand the dangers of the situation we were in and what we should do to keep ourselves safe. As I am the eldest in the family much of his instruction was given to me as well as mother, as I often had charge of some of the younger members of the family.

Immediately on the outbreak of war, he explained the dangers of flying glass and impressed upon us that, when the air-raid siren sounded we should keep well clear of the windows of whatever building we were in. Very shortly after this I was at school one day when the air-raid siren sounded and all the children, as instructed by the staff moved out of their classrooms into the corridor of the school. We were told that we must sit on the floor with our backs to the wall, and leave enough space in the middle for the teachers to walk past as and when necessary.

In my family only my brother and I were old enough to be at school and I was very concerned about my brother lest he should be frightened, but for fear of the wrath of teachers I dare not leave my place in the corridor in order to find him. As I pondered over the problem of making sure my brother was all right, I look up at the ceiling to find — to my horror — that the one-storey corridor we were in had glass windows in the roof. I was so terrified that I was doing just what my father had told me not to do — standing in danger of flying glass, I was almost in tears. Fortunately, this was a very short alert and I was extremely relieved to hear the sound of the All Clear. The moment I got home I told my father of the glass in the roof of the corridor and of my fears for our safety. He must have arranged for the school to be investigated for a day or so later he told me that the glass in the roof was quite safe, in fact it was glass bricks, and would not shatter and that I could carry on obeying instructions and sit in the corridor during an Alert until such time as the Air Raid Shelters were built on the school playing field.

Later on in the War we heard brief reports of the Butterfly Bombs, which the Germans had dropped in East Anglia. They were anti-personnel bombs which were very highly coloured and attractively shaped (hence the name — Butterfly Bomb). They were, in effect booby traps which did not explode upon hitting the ground but were reportedly made to attract people, and especially children, to pick them up, whereupon they exploded. What we did not know then was that the Government was very anxious not to raise too much of an alarm about these. The Government's view was that if the incidence of these bombs and the effect they had was played down the Germans would decide that they were not being very successful, hence there was not a lot of publicity on the radio and in the press. However it fell to the local police and fire authorities to warn children of the dangers and they did this by visits to schools.

As soon as dad knew about these Butterfly Bombs, he made sure we all understood that we must never, under any circumstances, touch one of these devices. He drew what he knew of them and described them to us. Then, of course he had to undertake some of the visits to schools to warn staff and pupils of the dangers and decided that he needed a visual aid for his talks. Without telling us, and whilst he was on duty at the Fire Station he and his mates constructed dummy Butterfly Bombs out of empty evaporated milk tins. One whole tin made up the body of the bomb, whilst another tin, with top and bottom removed and cut in half down its length was fixed by thin rods to make the butterfly "wings." This was all then painted in bright attractive colours.

Dad was so pleased with the results of his labours that he brought the thing home to show us. So, imagine the scene. The family was altogether, ready to sit down for a meal when in came dad with a pleased grin all over his face and a Butterfly bomb in his hand. He was totally unprepared for the family's reaction, which was "What the Hell is that?" from mother, a great gasp of shock and several screams from us children and an immediate exodus as fast as we could. It took some time to gather us all together again and explain what it was and why he had made it.

I understand that his lessons on the dangers of Butterfly Bombs in the schools he visited were very effective!

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