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I was born in 1924 and for the first six years lived at 187 High Street Shadwell in East London, a stones throw from the river Thames and the London Docks.

To accommodate the extension of the Meredith Drew Factory our House with others were demolished and so we moved about 100 yards to the opposite side of the road to the ground floor flat of a small block of six flats adjoining the London Dock PLA sheds 10/11.

I attended an excellent Grammar School and our History Master supplemented the Normal History lessons with graphic accounts of the European situation which was developing. It was then that my Father who worked in the docks started to attend the "Poison Gas" lectures arranged by the Port of London Authority. I studied these notes in order to supplement the First Aid badge that I gained from the Boy Scouts.

In 1938 the Boy Scouts were used by the Local Parish Council to distribute cards to all residents giving Instruction as to when to report to the Town Hall for the issue of Gas Masks. During the Summer Holidays that year the Scouts were then involved in assembling the Gas masks prior to the fitting.

With the rapid growth of Air Raid Precautions at the time all around us in the form of Wardens Posts; Auxiliary Fire Stations Rescue centres and Air Raid Sirens being tested it seemed even to children that things were becoming serious.

Discussions were also taken place concerning the possible evacuation of children in the event of War being declared. My younger brother would go with me should the inevitable occur.

My older sisters had left school by then but would eventually serve in the Fire Service and W-A.A.F. In early 1939 it was necessary to recall all the gas masks to have an extra smoke filter fitted, and once again the Scouts did the lions share of this task.

We received our ARP shelter instructions informing us that as we had no provision for a shelter where we lived we would have to use the Crypt of the local Church (St.Paul's Shadwell) which did not meet with my parent’s approval.

Eventually the need to arrange Evacuation arrived and for some days during the Summer Holidays we had to repair to the School with our siblings, packed lunches, Gas Mask, clothes a stamped addressed postcard which we had to send home, when we reached our destination.

We attended on three to four occasions before we were finally given the go. We were marched through the streets to Shadwell underground Station where we went to New Cross Gate Station thence by Main Line to Brighton. Until we actually arrived no one in the party had any idea where we would finish.

On arrival at Brighton we were bussed to Preston Park to await dispersal. The extremely slow process of allocation meant that the "difficult" cases of multiple evacuees were left to the last.

My brother and I were taken to a rather grand house where we were informed that the lady of the house had only agreed to accept two girls. It was only after pressure that she reluctantly agreed to accept us.

We were relegated to the kitchen in the care of the maid which suited us. We were fussed over by the maid and in a very short time built up a strong bond with the master of the house who would take us fishing, exploring on the Downs, and gardening.

However this familiarity was discouraged by the lady of the house who felt that her son was being neglected.

After a short period of freedom our schooling restarted on a half day basis. We shared premises of Varndean School.

I found this unsatisfactory; we were both homesick and unsettled in our billet and things were quiet at home so we decided to return home.

On arriving back home we were faced with a "Ghost Town". Very few children about; very few schools open; and it was some time before the Authorities opened "Emergency " schools to accommodate the increasing numbers of returning evacuees. I started school at Parmiters School Bethnal Green; but unfortunately there were only two candidates for the Matriculation year including me and we were told that we would be amalgamated with the "Pre Matric" year and that we would take the exam the following year.

Luckily my Scoutmaster informed me that a vacancy had occurred in a City Chartered Accountants who had a standing order at Scout Head Quarters for suitable lads.

I decided to apply and on July 15th started my first job. By this time of course the War had taken a dramatic turn there were sporadic air raids but nothing too serious to concern us.

Things were soon to change, the sirens were heard more often but nothing of consequence followed and in cinemas and theatres the audience was informed that the sirens had sounded but very few people bothered to leave.

Thus it was on September 7th I decided to go to the Troxy cinema for a Saturday afternoon treat, not unexpectedly the message was flashed on the screen "Air Raid Warning" stoically hardly a person moved.

It soon became obvious that something unusual was taking place out side. The emergency lighting came on, the picture disappeared, the organist made a brief appearance and the Manager advised the audience to move under the dress circle.

Here we waited with increasing anxiety - the cinema staff began to unravel the fire hoses from the walls of the house as fires raged at nearby premises- a Motor Garage.

When the all clear finally sounded I started to run home as there was a heavy plume of smoke in the Dock Area in the direction of my house.

As I got nearer it was -obvious that the Docks had received severe damage. Fires were raging in the rubble strewn streets where Gas Mains had fractured. Thankfully despite the proximity of the Docks to my house we had not received damage but my mother was cutting sandwiches and getting her "Air Raid" handbag ready as we were being ordered to evacuate the house owing to an unexploded bomb nearby. Thus the family prepared for the first night of many to be spent in the shelter under St. Paul's Church.

When we arrived at the shelter the scene was chaotic, People were in a panic, there appeared to be little authority - seating accommodation was limited to concrete slabs, breeze blocks, nor provision for any type of refreshment.

As the heavy raids continued night after night. It was some time before some routine was established. The Pacifist Service Unit organised Refreshments and First Aid Fire watching duties were allocated to the fitter members of the shelterers.

The biggest improvement was the installation of bunk beds which enabled us to have some sleep. Most people were still doing their normal work as well as fire watching duties and other supplementary jobs.

Inevitably we emerged from the shelter one morning after a heavy raid to find that our home was badly blasted. Every door and window frame had been shattered and blown into the rooms. Luckily our pet dog which we were forced to leave at home was unscathed as he had the presence of mind to stay in his own "shelter" under the bath in the kitchen where we left his blanket and food and water every night.

My mother was reduced to tears as we had no idea where to start to clear up. The FIRST AID REPAIRS PARTY came into its own and cleared away most of the glass and rubble and fitted canvas into the windows; repaired the doors so at least we had some semblance of a secure house.

It seemed at that time that most of the heavier raids took place on Saturday and Sunday nights. As it was becoming difficult to reach the City by Public Transport I decided to travel by cycle as so many roads were closed. I was very keen not to arrive late at work that most Sunday nights I did the journey again to plot the best route for the following day.

On December 29th the fire raid was made on the City — which virtually brought the City to a standstill. Our Office in Old Broad Street was extremely lucky and lost just a few windows in the entire "Blitz" despite being surrounded by shattered buildings.

As my father was on Fire watch duties that night he was very late returning home in the morning and my Mother became increasingly worried until he finally reached home.

On the 31st December the curate suggested that if we had a quiet night he would like to hold a watch night service to welcome the New Year. With bated breath we waited and as eleven o'clock came and it was peaceful; we held the service in the church with what must have been a record attendance for the congregation with all denominations. The Church's normal organist was the Matron of the local Children’s Hospital; but as she could not leave her post the curate asked my father to step in but he volunteered me instead as I used to play the organ on occasions at my usual church (St. George’s in the East).

I duly performed and was surprised when my father passed me a ten shilling note as a reward.

The New Year was marked by more raids possibly not so intensive as before; but sufficient to repeat the blast damage to our home on a further four occasions.

So the winter months dragged by with very little to raise our spirits. We were conditioned to the life we were leading and no doubt a little blasé with the damage which faced us most mornings when leaving the shelter,

However all this was to change quite dramatically on May 10th. I was lucky enough to obtain a seat at the Cup Final at Wembley between Preston North End and my team Arsenal. The result was a draw and I made by way home very pleased with myself

That night we suffered one of the worst raids;- we were blasted again my cousins had been bombed out and one of them killed.

They stayed with us for some time until they found alternative accommodation; and my father resolved to move away south of the river to the comparatively undamaged area of Catford.

We did not appreciate it at the time bit this was the last heavy raid on London until the VI and V2 raids,

The lasting memory I have of this period was how the majority of the East Londoners coped. The word "Stress" did not figure in their vocabulary. For six months they had existed on basic rations damaged homes or no homes - very little sleep, yet they still carried on their normal working lives.

The only time I can honestly say I was afraid was when a "stick" of bombs were released and you heard and felt them approaching nearer and nearer with increasing intensity and you found yourself counting and wondering if your name would be on the last or last but one.

By this time I spent quite a bit of time away from home on Audits with my firm and I was still pursued with bombs even then.

One of the audits took place at a flour mills in Ashford Kent; and during one morning a fighter bomber raid took place aiming for the Railway works at Ashford, but instead the bombs landed on a Children’s School immediately by the Flour Mills, The children were safely in the surface shelter, only getting minor injuries but the combination of the accumulated flour and cement dust turned them into living statues as they shuffled out. I shall never forget this sight.

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