- Contributed by听
- sharrard64363
- People in story:听
- Dr G. Sharrard
- Location of story:听
- Waddington, Lincolnshire
- Background to story:听
- Civilian
- Article ID:听
- A2109575
- Contributed on:听
- 05 December 2003
My father was medical officer for North Kesteven. As such he made himself responsible in the late thirties for replacing artesian wells with clean water pumping stations.
However the job also involved being Civil Defence Officer for Waddington which was an important station for aircraft of the allied air forces.
At 2.00 am one morning the telephone rang and the message was relayed that all the village roofs had been blown off. 'Could Dr Sharrard come to succour the population which had taken refuge behind the bar of the village pub'. I was allowed to go along with him.
Naturally we all thought that this was a joke perpetrated by some late drinkers.
But it seems that the Luftwaffe, who had never had much success in Lincolnshire during the war, tried to deprive at least one bomber station of its aircrew by destroying their living quarters.
New aircrew actually lived in the village so the project was doomed. Two large parachute mines were dropped which floated gently down after the bombers had droned away.
The first one landed on the church weathercock reducing the church to rubble in the shape of a cross pointing to home. The lead sat on top of the body of the rubble and the bell sat on the lead.
The second bomb touched the vicarage lightning conductor blowing the roof off the vicarage and waking the vicar, who struggled down the stairs from the bed which had a large beam two inches from his chest. He went to help the church warden who was already retrieving the lead for future restoration purposes.
Glancing at his village, he noticed there was not a single house roof remaining. Fortunately no villagers had been killed, although they all suffered slight cuts and bruises.
The next day I accompanied my father and the Lincoln sanitary inspector to this untidy village. As we walked through the scene of architectural carnage, two things stuck in my mind. The first was the orderly way in which everybody queued up to have their anti-tetanus injections. The second was the bizarre and slightly horrific circumstances of their dwelling situation.
Most of the houses had been severed from their drains having been revolved on their foundations. One house was only approachable across a plank over what had once been its cellars. The skyline was flat. Nothing existed above 30 feet. Surprisingly it was said that a German maid who had not been interned was looking out of a window when it happened. 'Serve her right' somebody said.
The only solution to what was a very large public health problem was total evacuation to Lincoln.
In Waddington today every house dates from 1946.
漏 Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.