大象传媒

On completing my college training, my first appointment as a Methodist Deaconess was to the east end of London. I arrived at the East End Mission by taxi at the beginning of September 1940, and was given a bedroom overlooking Bromley Road which ran alongside the Mission building. I had taken a trunk from Dalston with some clothing and a few books. The staff who normally lived upstairs at the Mission had to leave their rooms and go downstairs to the basement immediately an air raid warning sounded. There was no comfort in the basement and they had taken chairs from their rooms, an easy chair or a deckchair, on which to sleep or rest. Directly the 鈥渁ll clear鈥� went they would return to their rooms for the remainder of the night.
A welcome meeting for me and the Rev. Tom Collins was arranged for the Saturday afternoon. I had come to St. George鈥檚 Church at the Shadwell end of Cable Street and Tom Collins was appointed to the Old Mahogany Bar also in Cable St. but at the Leman Street end. The meeting was at the Old Mahogany Bar.
My friend Florrie Farris was a member of the Leysian Mission and lived quite close in Peerless Street off City Road. She had decided to come to the welcome meeting. When the meeting was over we got a tram from Leman St. to Dalston where at my parents鈥� house we would have some tea and I could pick up a few extra things I needed. On leaving the tram in Kingsland Road we walked down Dalston Lane but before we got to Queensbridge Rd. there were suddenly lots of aeroplanes in the sky. They were attacking each other and several planes were shot down and a number of pilots had to bale out and come down by parachute. We sheltered in a shop front while this was on.
When things had quietened down we hurried to my home and it was not long before, on going into the garden, there was a repetition of planes attacking each other, and looking towards the East End the sky was very red. Obviously fires had been started and things were not looking good. I decided that I must get back to the East End as soon as possible. Florrie Farris and I walked back to Kingsland Road where we got a tram that took us to Aldgate. Here we agreed that Florrie should not come any further. (I think she had intended to come all the way to the East End Mission, not having been there before.) At Aldgate, Commercial Road commenced at No.1 and the Mission was No.582! Outside Aldgate Station and along Commercial Road there were no buses at all in either direction but the traffic was very heavy. It was all private cars or other vehicles and lots of taxis. They were all either going to or coming from the East End, and it was obvious that people were making their way back with their belongings or going out to fetch them.
I started walking on the left hand side of the road, the side the Mission was on. The pavement was quite full of people but I went as quickly as I could. Having got some distance along I met about six or eight people, staff of the Mission, deaconesses, social workers and one a lady doctor. They were all carrying cases or bags and were rather exhausted. Directly they saw me they said it was no use going any further as the Mission had been bombed and they were making their way from there with whatever they could manage to carry. As I had only a light case, I exchanged it for a much heavier one to relieve one person. I immediately turned around and with the others started hurrying towards Aldgate.
In time we reached the crossing and went over to the station gate and were just able to get inside before it was closed. No one else was allowed inside the station because an alert had sounded. Where were we to go? I didn鈥檛 want to use the Underground but I had got someone else鈥檚 case so I went in with them. The doctor with us said that we could get tickets to Manor House eight or nine stations northward and go to her home. When we got to Manor House we were not allowed into the street and had to stay
down below with lots of other people. We were there until the morning, but by 5.30 a.m. everything had been quiet for some time, so the doctor asked the man at the entrance to let us out so that we could go the short distance to her house. Despite the efforts of the doctor the man on the gate insisted that we must remain with everyone else until the 鈥渁ll clear鈥� sounded. We only had to wait until about six o鈥檆lock. We made our way to the doctor鈥檚 house and as we went in the front door her family were coming in from the Anderson shelter in the garden at the back. The kettle was quickly put on, a pot of tea was made, and quite a number of cakes were produced, which were very welcome. As it was rather early we were told that we could all go upstairs and rest on the beds for a while before making our way to wherever we had planned to go the previous evening. So we did in fact get a short opportunity to lie down for about an hour and a half. Then I made my way back to Dalston.
At about 9 a.m. I rang the Rev Edward Harland at St George鈥檚 to explain where I was and what had happened overnight. He told me not to go to Cable St. as St George鈥檚 had been bombed and there would not be any services or people coming to the premises that day. I arranged to ring him the next morning. When I did this I was told that there had been further damage that night, but I went in to see what the situation was. The large, high windows in the Church were all shattered and the curtains torn and hanging in ribbons. There was not much we could do at that end of the building, though there was one small room off a staircase at the back which was used by the deaconess and became a centre from which to work. At the other end there was another room which had been used for afternoon meetings. This had broken windows but the door and access were all right as it was by the stone staircase leading to the caretaker鈥檚 flat and opposite the double door leading out to the large stone yard which went along the whole length of the Church. The Rev E. Harland and I dealt with the broken windows and patched up the spaces with cardboard though of course lack of light was then a problem. Because of what had happened in our area that weekend a number of extra families, and elderly women, decided to evacuate, so we had even fewer members living locally.
Going back to the East End Mission I found that it was the centre of the building which had been affected by the bombing. On the Saturday, in preparation for the next day鈥檚 Harvest Festival, a display had been arranged at the front of the church. This was still in position. As it was hardly safe to go into the Church it simply remained there. The roof had gone and it was obvious that plenty of water had been pumped in by the firemen to deal with the fire. Not long afterwards the wheat was seen to be sprouting!
It would appear that the firemen directed their jets of water from Bromley Road right up over the roof and down into the Church. By doing this, my room, facing Bromley Road, escaped any water. I did not lose anything, and nothing was damaged. However, as other staff had gone to live where it was considered safer, I took the few things from my room back to Dalston. In time, at the East End Mission a cook, a man, who had previously prepared lunches for the staff, returned and things got back to some kind of normality. I was able to go there fairly regularly for a midday meal, and this gave me an opportunity to meet with other members of the Mission staff.

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