大象传媒

This story was written by Mr R Bridgman and edited by Euan Mahy of 大象传媒 Radio Cornwall. It forms part of a series of recollections submitted by listeners to 大象传媒 Radio Cornwall.

Recollections of the war - R.W.T. Bridgman

When war was declared, I was living with my father, mother and two sisters in married quarters in Calcutta. We stayed there until May 1944, when my father received orders to return to England. We eventually left in July 1944 as part of a convoy, aboard the troopship S.S. Stratheden.
I remember looking out from our port side one day and saw an aircraft carrier passing close-by. Aboard the aircraft carrier, there was a funeral service taking place for two naval airmen who had crashed into the sea in a Fairey Swordfish while patrolling the convoy, protecting it from Japanese submarines.
We eventually arrived in Glasgow and we undertook a lengthy train journey to visit my grandparents in Walkhampton, on Dartmoor in Devon. While waiting for our final train connection in Plymouth, my father suggested we stretch our legs and take in the views over the city. I shall never forget the terrible sight of seeing the ruins of Plymouth city centre left over from the aftermath of the Blitz.
After our brief stay in Devon, my father was posted to Woolwich Arsenal in London and we were all billeted nearby. Some time later, shortly after my 10th birthday, my sisters and I were about to leave to re-visit our grandparents back in Devon.
My sisters and I got up and were sitting around the kitchen table having breakfast. Suddenly, there was a blinding flash and then comparative silence. I remember looking at my sister and wondering what that red stuff was, trickling down her face and why my other sister's hand was looking so red. Then, everything started flying around - pieces of furniture were being hurled across the room and the ceiling was hanging down over the breakfast table.
My father was shaving in an adjoining bathroom. I looked towards the bathroom door, which had been blown open, and saw my father standing there with a window frame around his waist. Despite this, he was still holding his wet razor up to his cheek that was showing a small trickle of blood.
These images were followed by the noise of falling bricks, tiles and the room was full of dust. I could hear the screams of the people outside in the street and from adjoining houses.
My father rushed in asking if we were hurt. My sisters fortunately only had cuts from the flying glass. Then we heard my mother shouting from the upstairs bedroom. Apparently, she had been sitting at the dressing-table mirror near the window. We all moved towards the passage that led to the stairs and found that the front door had been blown half way up the stairs. My father managed to climb over the debris into the bedroom, only to find the ceiling down and my mother under the bed, thankfully uninjured. Apparently, the blast had thrown her onto the floor and she had rolled under the bed just as the ceiling had begun to fall.
After a short while, the A.R.P. wardens came along looking for survivors and we were told to stay put as our house was not in danger of collapse and that coaches would eventually come along to take us to temporary accommodation.
After what seemed like hours, the Wardens came and escorted us out into the street. What a shock it was to see that our house was the only one left standing in the whole street. Around 180 houses in the immediate area had been completely destroyed by a V2 rocket.
As we picked our way through the huge mounds of rubble, I remember seeing Alsation dogs on leads sniffing through the tons of rubble, searching for survivors and hearing the A.R.P. Wardens shouting out for silence, then everyone listening trying to hear any sound from any trapped survivors. The smell of gas was very strong and the Wardens were urging people not to smoke.
As we picked our way along the street, I saw the remnants of the local sweet shop chocolate display stands scattered amongst the ruins and remember feeling rather disappointed that the chocolate bars laying around were not real.
We eventually returned to Walkhampton in Devon and stayed there until after V.E. Day.

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