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I was 8 in 1939 and that September was evacuated with my school (Latham Road Junior School) to Weston-super-Mare. I was paired up with a friend, Colin English and billeted with a Mr and Mrs Crowe who ran a guest house (closed for the duration of the War) called the Chantry at the top of Worlberry Hill. Mr Crowe wouldn’t let us clean our own shoes because he had been used to cleaning all the guests’ shoes.

We had to share the local school with the town children — they were taught in the mornings and the evacuee children in the afternoon and vice versa. This meant we had spare time and we were taken on visits to places like a nearby strawberry farm where we picked fruit (and ate a few) and a cider orchard to pick apples but we weren’t allowed to taste the cider!

In 1940 a German bomber on his way to Bristol was attacked by the RAF, and then jettisoned his bombs which landed just outside town. This must have made the London papers because all our parents rushed down to take us back to London. We arrived back in London just in time for the start of the Blitz which being a child I thought was very exciting despite having to sleep in an Anderson shelter. I used to come home regularly with my pockets bulging full of shrapnel and other souvenirs.

Near to my house was the Gaslight Coke Company sports field with a gasometer in the middle of the field. One day bombs fell onto the field and set the gasometer alight and neighbouring gardens. The blast brought the roof of our kitchen down and shattered windows — all my Mum was concerned about was Dad’s dinner! We had a china cabinet and saw her best china leaning precariously against the doors, we all had to stand by and push back the plates etc into position when the door was opened. She was very happy not to lose too many pieces!

My Dad was a cable jointer for East Ham Electricity Company and he often had to disconnect the power supply from houses where there were unexploded bombs before the Bomb Squad could tackle them. One day he said he was very grateful to be working down a hole in a street when it was strafed by a German plane. The hole saved his life!

When the night time raids started my mother, sister and I went to St Albans and shared a house with another family. Even from St Albans you could see the fires burning in London. I was very upset to have been removed from all the excitement until I discovered the De Havilland Aircraft factory just up the road — I often saw Tiger Moths and Mosquitoes flying around the skies. One day I saw a Tiger Moth trying to loop the loop but failed and crashed nearby. I remember seeing the stretcher bringing out the body of the pilot and seeing his two blackened feet sticking out from the end.

We eventually went home having avoided the worst of the Blitz just in time for the Doodlebugs (more excitement!). The same gasometer was hit again by a Doodlebug and set alight. After that it was hit again, this time by a V2 rocket!

By this time I was at East Ham Grammar School and my friend, Roy Monk and I decided to join the Air Training Corp even though we were too young. The CO that interviewed us turned a blind eye but told us to keep it quiet. We learnt to march and were taught about engines by Tiger Stevens who was a well known speedway rider at the time and rode the Wall of Death. He reckoned he had broken every bone in his body!

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