大象传媒

19940/1941 London

During the Second World War I was living in London. My husband was with the RAF and was based away. I had moved around a few times stopping with relatives in both London and the Essex area. My sister in law moved into a flat in Lambeth near Blackfriars Bridge and the Cut. She invited me to go and stay with her as there would be more space for me and my baby son. We lived in the flat for about a month. One day I decided to go over to Brockley to visit a friend and show her my baby son. That evening whilst I was on the bus going home, the bombing started over London. The docks were the target but the bombs were not always very accurate. Suddenly the bus stopped and the conductor shouted 鈥淭here鈥檚 a b鈥�.. great hole in the road, everybody off the bus.鈥� So we all got off and were headed into an air-raid shelter where we stayed all night, until the all clear was sounded. When we all came out of the shelter we were allowed to re-board the bus which slowly managed to find a route through the bomb damage back home. Every night after that the bombers came back. It was very frightening.

There was a large cellar in the building where we lived, which went right under the road. We used to go down there at night when the sirens sounded. We had provisions of food, mattresses and blankets to sleep on. We spent many nights sheltering there. However after other cellars in the nearby area were hit by bombs and collapsed we realised this was not such a safe place to be. It was suggested that people should shelter in the underground station at Waterloo. This was a very deep station and would provide better shelter and people should be safe from the bombs. I suffer with claustrophobia so was terrified to go down there and just felt I would be buried alive, so I stayed at the house. Then the Germans started dropping incendiary bombs. The following night everybody was heading down to Waterloo, but I just could not go with them, I was too scared. I stayed in the house and everyone else left. There was much more bombing than normal and I was very scared 鈥� and did not want to be buried alive. I cuddled my son and went onto the roof. I was afraid of being trapped inside the house. The sight was terrifying. I could hear planes coming over and dropping bombs and incendiaries. The searchlights were shining up and there were sounds of anti-aircraft guns. Flames were coming down, whole streets had been destroyed or were on fire. It seemed that everything all around had been destroyed. There was fire everywhere, lights, the sounds of battle, destruction, but standing proud was St Paul鈥檚 Cathedral across the river.

I thought I can stand this no longer; I must protect myself and my baby. I just knew that I had to get away and as soon as the all clear sounded the next day I bundled a few belongings into a bag and put these into the pram along with my son. We walked to the Elephant and Castle station to catch a train, but this was all blown up and no trains were running. Someone said 鈥淭he trains are running at Fenchurch Street鈥� so I headed back and walked there, where I was able to catch a train headed to Southend, where I had relatives. That night, so I heard later, the house where I had been living was demolished by bombing along with many other properties round about. I never returned to live in London. Fortunately my family who remained had gone down in the underground and were safe, although in the morning found they had lost all their belongings.

Sixty years later I was talking with my Grandson who had recently moved to London. He was telling me how he had started cycling to work now that he had moved offices at work. He biked along the embankment to his new office over Blackfriars Bridge. I told him I used to live near there and explained where the flat had been that was bombed all those years ago. He said 鈥淭hat is right by where I work I can see that square from my office window. It always intrigued me that it was such a strange mix of old and new buildings.鈥� Some of the old buildings I told him about where still there, but the new buildings replaced those destroyed by the bombing.

If I had not left London that morning it is highly likely that me and my son would have been killed. I am now 84 years old; I have four children, seven grandchildren and five great grandchildren. None of whom would be here today if I had not left London that day.

Fate played a hand that day. It must be Kismet.

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