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This story is being entered by Rachel Steed on behalf of Arthur Bright. Arthur is fully aware of the terms and conditions on this site.

My Memories of the Exeter Blitz by Mr A.F Bright now aged 77 years.

I was thirteen at the time of the Exeter Blitz and lived with my Mum and Dad together with my sister and Auntie at 4 Bishops Buildings Summerland St.
Our house, together with most other houses in the area was burnt to the ground, we escaped through a house that was still intact although that house was also destroyed later in the night.
I remember,m vividly, standing at the top of summerland st outside chamberlains newsagents, watching across the road, the Ackland Hotl on fire and finally crashing to the ground. I shall always have that memory in my mind.
Soon after that we were to muster at St Sidwalls Methodist Church subsequently finishing up at St James Church Hall, where we spent the remainder of the night.
The following night we slept at St Mathews Hall Topsham, and the night after that at Broadclyst Town Hall. After that we stayed at my Aunties house in burnt house lane where we stayed for some time. My dad got us all out of bed as soon as the sirens sounded, we shared a morrison shelter with our neighbours, Mr and Mrs Rattenbury, and their family Fred, Hilda and Les.
My Auntie, Miss Alice Northam, was a member of St Johns Ambulance Brigade and had to report to her depot. That was the last we saw of her until the following evening when she finally caught up with us.
Dad saw us safely into the morrison shelter and went back to our house to pick up some things, when he returned to join us in the shelter. As he was opening the door a high explosive bomb went off and dad went flying through the door. I didn't expext to see him alive again but fortunately he got to his feet , as white as a ghost and joined us in the shelter. he never forgot that incident and from that day on he was prompt in joining us in the shelter as soon as the sirens sounded.
The Blitz itself was a very frightening experience for a lad of thirteen and i remember when i heard a bomb whizzing down, and finally exploding, thanking God i was still here in one piece. This sort of thing went on for what seemed an eternity.
We had a black and white cat named Joey and for weeks after the Blitz my sister and i searched in vain to find him but sadly we never saw him again and had to accept that he was a victim of the german bombing on that fateful night.
Our family lost everything that night, and if i could have one thing back it would be a picture frame that hung in my parents bedroom which contained a collection of silk cards which dad had sent mum from france during the first world war, also the picture frame contained my dad's war medals and some family photographs. I often think about that picture frame and all the memorabilia it contained. In fact it influenced me to collect postcards of pre war exeter and i am still collecting and have close on one thousand to date.
I remember living in pyjamas and gym shoes for the next two days as these were the only clothes i had, by that time some shops were open and mum was able to buy clothes for us all.
Looking at records of the Blitz i learn that seventy fivve tons of high explosive bombs fell on Exeter that night together with ten thousand insendiary bombs and as a thirteen year old i was convinced they were all coming in my direction, but, by the grace of God i am still here to tell the tale. I shall never, ever forget that night.
I have often wondered if what i am about to say was a miracle or divine intervention, if you look at an arial view of Exeter you will see that the Cthedral stands head and shoulders above everything else, yet on that unforgettable night the Cathedral suffered only minimal damage wheras everything around it was completely destroyed, miracle or divine intervention? i leave it to you to draw your own conclusion.

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