大象传媒

I had been evacuated in 1939 but it was not for me and I returned to Hotwells in Bristol after a few weeks.

The night of 24th and 25th November 1940 was a night that we who lived through it and survived, have never forgotten. It was hell on earth, Dante鈥檚 inferno. Everywhere there was noise and confusion. Hotwells Road ablaze, guns firing, planes overhead and bombs, bombs, bombs raining down. Incendiaries mostly, but now and again the screaming whistle of a high explosive. The burning buildings, including the rubber company along by Mardyke Ferry steps, was so awful... there wasn鈥檛 enough water in the world to put that one out. Up the hill Clifton Parish church was a pillar of flame in the tower. It stands today as a memorial to those who lost their lives in the Blitz. When we went into town in the morning, Bristol city centre from Eastville to Knowle, Bedminster to the Downs, Hotwells and Horfield, was not there anymore. We had lost the heart of Bristol but not the hearts of Bristolians.

The raid that took place on 2nd December 1940 was the most tragic for my family. In those days a list of victims was posted up around the city and I remember my sister coming in and telling my father and mother that my uncle, aunt, cousin and my uncle鈥檚 mother had been killed the night before and their names were on the list published on the notice board at the chapel, then in Merchant鈥檚 Road, Hotwells. It transpired from what we learned later, was that my uncle had just got in from work when the sirens sounded. They were living in the centre of Town in King鈥檚 Square, Kingsdown and were mindful of the raid of 24th November, so he decided it would be safer to get his family into the Anderson Shelter in the back garden. The shelter received a direct hit from a high explosive bomb, killing all four. The irony is the house, except for some smashed windows, was untouched and the meal my aunt had prepared was still on the table. They were buried in the Remembrance Cemetery at Greenbank, Bristol. Their names are not forgotten.

Despite being bombed out late in the war and another cousin killed flying with the R.A.F. we survived to join in the V.E. Day celebrations on 8th May 1945. On a last lighter note, I remember being in a huge happy crowd in St. George鈥檚 Road near to the Cathedral and College Green, Bristol. On a corner, long since demolished, an enterprising fish shop owner had opened up his shop and was making a fortune selling fish and chips. I never knew what happened to him but I like to think 鈥渘ext year he鈥檇 be a millionaire鈥�

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