大象传媒

A chance meeting

I was 5years old at the time of the outbreak of World War II in 1939, one autumn morning shortly after the announcement; my mother took us to town on a shopping trip. Walking down Smithfield Street we bumped into my mother鈥檚 old aunt, it had been a long time since they last met. On learning that my mother wasn鈥檛 to happy where we were living, Aunt Nell mentioned to her that there was a cottage to let on the same lane that she lived on at Pickford Green on the outskirts of Coventry. The rent was 10 shillings per week; this was going to be the most important decision of my mothers, and Fathers life. They decided on the move, in June 1940 the move took place, we were going to live in the countryside in a two bedroom cottage, no running water, no electricity, no gas, and no nearby shops or bus stops.

On the night of the November 1940 blitz, our cottage became a haven, relatives came, many people fled on foot, filling our cow shed and coal shed. Nearby searchlight was at the ready, the big Ack Ack Gun known to us, as 鈥淏ig Bertha鈥� was also close by; as we sat in our room in pitch-black darkness with our relations, with just an odd whisper here and there, wondering what we were in for. My father with another neighbour were out in the lane acting as air raid wardens, making sure no lights were showing the houses. We then heard the first German plane above, its engines making zooma, zooma sounds, the drone reflecting the heavy load of bombs it was carrying, it sounded as if one bomber was following another across the sky. Someone whispered 鈥渢hey have arrived鈥� then the 鈥淏ig Bertha鈥� gun came into action, search lights beaming up into the sky, trying to make targets for the gun. Mother filled a baby鈥檚 bottle up with warm milk, she was taking it to the little baby in the cow shed as she was about to lift the catch up on the cottage door, the Ack Ack fired, the terrific boom from the gun nearly blasted the door from its hinges.

The air raid on Coventry was now at its worse, the noise was deafening, on the ground and in the air. Our cottage shock but stood firm from the blast. Suddenly my father rushed in ordering everyone out of the cottage, the white sheets on the neighbours washing line was snatched from the line and put undercover, and the moonlight might make it an easy target for the bombers above. W were escorted up the lane into a field, as we walked up the lane the ditches on either side were filled up with people crouching down, their faces full of fear, not a word spoken, just eyes staring up to us, wondering no doubt what they would find when they returned. As we continued up the lane Aunt Nell (not the one we had met up town) said 鈥淚 am going back indoors, if I鈥檓 going to die then in going to die in my armchair鈥�, so she turned back, so much fear was felt, the field where we stood was high up, we could see the red glow all over Coventry filling the sky, the crackling sounds from the burning fires; we could hear in the distance fire engines bell ringing as they raced from different places along the Birmingham Road into Coventry. The time came to be given the ok to go back into our homes, shivering through fear and cold, hot drinks were given to people in the sheds, Aunt Nell sat in her chair very tired. We could now identify our fighter planes above, such a relief to hear them it was now less noisier the 鈥渁ll clear鈥� siren had sounded everyone felt a little more relax but still shocked from what had gone on. After a little rest, we were up and about again, the sheds were now empty, as were the ditches, people total strangers, we never knew who they were, had now returned back to the city.

My uncle came during mid morning to break the news that the cathedral had been bombed, the devastation from the nights raid was soon to be received, as I was so young a lot of bad news was kept from me. My father returned to work and heard the sad news that his workmate and family had been killed. He had asked my father when he had heard we were leaving to move to the outskirts of Coventry, if he would mind asking the landlord if he could take over the house, he was working away from his home in Wales, and wanted his family to be with him in Coventry. The landlord agreed for them to have the house to rent. Sadly the night of the blitz the house took a direct hit, the family was killed. My father went round to see it for himself and was very upset on what he saw, he was never able to talk about it afterwards, my mother told me about it later.

That dilapidated old place, Outwoods cottage, without all its mod cons proved to be a safe haven for our family, mother, father, my sister Sheila and myself, and many others but it has left many memories and many stories to tell. All because of that chance meeting with Aunt Nell. After we left to return to the city in 1947 the cottage was pulled down.

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