´óÏó´«Ã½

Memories of being an air raid warden. Dictated to my daughter — I’m 91.

When the war broke out I joined the air raid wardens with my uncle Bob. He had retired from the navy and I was aged 25. Together we made up the Staddiscombe (in Devon) air raid wardens during the night time hours. We were given a tin helmet and an arm band, there were no uniforms at this time.

During my year at Staddiscome one bomb fell on a house in the village trapping a Mrs. Tredegal. Bob and I tried to get her out, shifting bricks by hand. She was screaming all the time and sounded like a fowl, which made me laugh so much I found it difficult to lift her out. I did get her out in the end and passed her over to Bob. As her home was destroyed she went to live in another part of the village.

After I got married to my wife Peggy I moved to the Oreston group of air raid wardens. This was a larger group and we were now issued with full uniforms. Those in the group that I can recall the names of were, Les Bolitho, a mechanic for the national bus company, Gordon Cleverton, a butcher and a man called Sanders who was a mechanic for the ambulance service in Plymouth. Among the others were two married young women whose husbands were in the desert fighting. At Oreston we had a proper air raid wardens post with a telephone. During the day it was manned by paid air raid wardens.

I moved to Pomphlet but still belonged to the Oreston crew. One night the siren went and I had an argument with my wife about taking a long time to dress. I had trouble attaching my stud collar and then stopped to put my tie on. I took my wife and baby son to the shelter and then rode my bike towards the air raid wardens post. I had almost reached it when there was a very loud bang and I was thrown off my bike onto the road. A lot of debris fell around me but luckily nothing fell on top of me. I picked myself up and saw that my bike was full of sparks. The electricity cables were down and were on my bike. I kicked the bike across the road free of the live cables but couldn’t ride my bike as the road was full of limestone rocks. I walked down to the air raid post and met up with another warden called Frank Johnson. He took me to where two bungalows had been bombed and several people had been killed. As well as those in the bungalows three lady air raid wardens were also killed by the same bomb. Gordon Cleverton was also injured by the bomb and was taken to hospital. He had lived in one of the bungalows. As I knew two of the lady air raid wardens who were known to be killed I asked to be excused digging them out and instead went to look for Gordons wife, who was missing. After searching I eventually found her. She had been blown by the blast into the next street and was laying on the grass verge. She had no pulse so I knew that she too was dead. Another warden and I carried her to the point where she would be picked up and taken to the mortuary.

Further down the road a gas main had been hit, causing a fire. We managed to turn off the supply of coal gas but found that the family in a near by shelter had all been gassed because they had only one entry or exit to the shelter and this had been blocked by bomb debris. We dug them out but none survived.

Eventually I went home and found my wife in tears. She had been told that three air raid wardens had been killed and not knowing that they were women, felt sure that I was one of them. It seems very likely that had I not stopped to put on my stud collar and tie before I left home I would have been amongst those wardens who lost their lives that night.

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