大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by a volunteer from CSV Action Desk on behalf of Mrs Violet Clancy and has been added to the site with her permission. Mrs Clancy fully understands the site鈥檚 terms and conditions.

I was 9 and a half years old and my sister 14 and a half years old when war was declared.

On February 4th 1941 my mother, father, grandfather, sister and myself were sitting in our house in Church Road, Boston, when a frightening whistling sound followed by a loud impact sound made us realise that a bomb had been dropped that had not detonated. I dived under the nearest piece of furniture, which happened to be a dining room type chair. My grandfather tottered across the room making for the door and trod on my feet that were sticking out 鈥� 鈥渙uch!鈥� The soot out of the chimney had 鈥減uthered鈥� out all over the hearth, putting out the fire and covering the fallen ornaments off the fireplace. A great crashing sound had come from the pantry and every item was in pieces except two dishes that had been given to mother by my late Grandma Kate Langwith, her mother. My father rushed outside and saw that the bomb was a few yards from the back of the house. He said he could hear the ticking and got his spade to dig it out! Fortunately, an air raid warden had arrived and prevented him from such an action and told us we must leave the house immediately. We put our coats on and went out into the cold night to a house further up the road. The people out of the 7 houses and an old mansion were evacuated. They were all recently built houses, we had lived in ours only 11 months. It was my mother and father鈥檚 dream home. The surrounding area was allotments and fields. We were not far away from the Boston Ducks so we presumed the German Bomber had been aiming for that target. My uncle took us to his home and my grandfather went to his other daughter鈥檚 home. My father had worked all hours to earn enough to have a new house built and had tried to dig the ticking bomb out before it exploded and demolished the home he had saved up for. The bomb went off in the early hours of the morning. The house looked intact but it had moved on its foundation and was shaving great cracks all over it. It was no longer fit for habitation. My uncle got some helpers to move everything out into some garages he was in charge of in a large yard he looked after.

My sister鈥檚 gold chain bracelet with a locket attached was looted and my large metal humming top went missing, other things were taken also. The bracelet had been left to my sister by Grandma Kate. The next day my sister had to walk to Boston High School, the other side of the town, as she had not got her bicycle, she had to borrow her cousin鈥檚 pixie hood (a fashion at the time) as she had forgotten to get her school hat when she left our house. She arrived at school late and when her form mistress asked 鈥渨hy are you late?鈥� she replied 鈥渨e were bombed out last night,鈥� the mistress said 鈥渟it down鈥� and that was that. You had to be tough in those days, no help came from anywhere except relatives. My mother found a house eventually to rent, not easy in those days. A while later the next street was bombed and my sister became hysterical, screaming, 鈥淭hey鈥檝e followed us, they鈥檝e followed us!鈥� The house was taken down and rebuilt after the war ended, as we insured, but my mother never felt the same about her dream home and I am sure that contributed to the depression she suffered later on.

漏 Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.