大象传媒

By John Daubney (72)

I was only seven when the war broke out so for me, life was full of excitement, although, I was in a world of anxiety and fear. I used to spend my days collecting shrapnel and ammunition from fields and the airport, an interest that eventually led me to become an aeroplane engineer. The first I remember from this period was when my parents put out thick black out curtains and my diet was deprived of bananas. I moved to Eastwood after experiencing the blitz in Bristol, to discover Southend seafront had become completely unrecognizable, due to it being turned into HMS Westcliff. The school I attended in Eastwood had only two classrooms and the local landscape was completely different to what it is now, extremely rural.

An event that particularly remains in my memory is one unexpected incident on Christmas Eve in 1944. I used to do a paper round from North Leigh to Eastwood early in the morning. My delivery took me to my schoolmaster John Bussel鈥檚 house, a very gentle man whose paper I delivered every morning. On this particular day, carrying out my normal routine I stopped at his house and left my bicycle outside the gate. I walked up to the door and bent down to slide the paper through the letterbox. I got back on my bicycle and carried on with the rest of my round.

I was approximately 250 yards away from my schoolmaster鈥檚 house, when I was taken aback by a massive explosion, and the sound of windows shattering echoing around me. I walked back round the corner and was horrified to discover the bungalow had disappeared, being replaced by a crater 40ft wide and 10ft deep. A V2 rocket had unexpectedly hit the house causing devastation and killing Mr. Bussel my schoolmaster. Fortunately his wife remained unscathed, and my relieved father found me unharmed, observing the wreckage. Even today memories of the disaster remain. The railings from Hazelwood Grove to Eastwood Park bear the scars.

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