大象传媒

鈥淭his story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by Virginia Clarke from Littlehampton Learning Centre and has been added to the website on behalf of Clarice Richards with her permission and they fully understand the sites terms and conditions鈥�.

THE GOOD NEWS AND THE BAD NEWS

At the start of the war I lived in Battersea and was aged twelve. I lived with my mother, brother and sister, as my father had died when I was two. My brother and I were boarders at The London Orphan School in Watford. This was a charity school supported by voluntary donations, and later became known as Reed School. At the time war was declared September 3rd, 1939, we were listening to the radio in a shop opposite where we lived, my sister and I ran to tell my mother who looked very concerned but merely remarked: 鈥淲e had better go and get our tea.鈥� At the time I was too young to realise how being brought into the war would actually affect us. The very next morning the air-raid siren sounded and picking up our gas masks we headed for the nearest place of safety that was the basement of the furniture shop opposite. I remember it clearly because it was my mother鈥檚 birthday that day. One week later I was sent back to school to wait for the start of the Autumn term. Whilst we were at the school, before we were evacuated, we had underground shelters constructed, which we used occasionally and the drill at night was to have gas masks and folded clothes on the chair at the foot of the bed in case the siren sounded.
About six months later the whole school was evacuated, the girls to locations in Buckinghamshire and Northamptonshire and the boys to Devon. The Watford school buildings became a Military Hospital for the remainder for the war. I went with others of my class (13 of us in all), to a delightful country house, situated in the hamlet of Lillingston Dayrell near to the town of Buckingham. We were welcomed into the house of Mr. And Mrs. Robartes and occupied the former nursery wing of the house, along with one teacher. We had daily visits from our other teachers who had been evacuated nearby and some of our lessons were done through correspondence.
When I left school I returned to live in Battersea and started work at the Prudential Assurance Company鈥檚 Head Office at High Holborn. When the air-raid siren sounded we moved from our desks to an indoor corridor where I was promptly placed in the space between two metal cupboards and a male member of staff stood in front of me for 鈥榩rotection鈥�. I often wondered what would have happened had the cupboards collapsed inward onto me! Problems were few during the years I was there except for two incidents caused by V2 rockets, one that fell in High Holborn quite close to us. At the time I was walking down the corridor, the swing doors in front of me opened and I was propelled through them to land safely on the floor beyond. On entering my office, I found the glass had fallen out of the windows, but no one could understand what had happened since there had been no sound of explosion. Later we were told where the rocket had fallen. Going home that evening in the underground train I met a girl who had been in the building which had been hit by the V2 and she told me she had heard nothing, but that the walls had suddenly fallen down around her! A similar incident happened at the Smithfield Market which was also close by, and on this occasion no explosion was heard in our office although we were told that the rocket had landed there.
During this time life went on in a near normal fashion, but the nights were something different! During the bad times these were spent sleeping in the underground shelters on Clapham Common. These shelters comprised long corridors with three tiered metal bunk-beds. We became used to taking our bedding each night, which we placed on our bunks, then the sleepers congregated at the entrance chatting to each other and waiting until the 鈥榓ll-nighter鈥� siren sounded and we had to go below. I disliked going to the shelter and sometimes when things seemed quieter refused to go! On one such occasion my sister pleaded with me to go with her and became very tearful so I gave in. The following morning on returning home we found the ceiling in the bedroom had fallen on my bed! Two things I remember clearly about sleeping in the shelters are as follows. Firstly, being gently kissed on the cheek early each morning by a passing fellow 鈥榮helterer鈥�, whose identity remained anonymous, but which set me up for the day! The second memory was that of an empty jacket sleeve descending from the bunk above, brushing my face. I tugged the sleeve and an arm appeared, whereupon the hand grabbed mine and a conversation ensued. The sleeper was identified as a Canadian Airman who, with his companion, had become stranded in the area the night before and had been directed to the shelter. A friendship developed between my family and these two men who often visited us at our home where they sometimes spent the night after taking us to sleep in the shelter!
One Sunday morning I particularly remember was when a string of 鈥楳olotov Cocktails鈥� were dropped in the street in front of our houses. There was snow lying on the ground and we all agreed that they looked very pretty glowing in the snow, however the incident had a serious side as the house behind ours which was unoccupied caught fire when an incendiary-bomb fell through the roof onto a mattress setting fire to it. When the good news arrived on V.E. Day and everybody celebrated I went up to London with friends and joined the crowds in front of Buckingham Palace. Special services were arranged in the local churches. It took time to realise that the tension had passed and that things would gradually return to 鈥榥ormal鈥�, although our present situation had become to us a way of life that we had learned to accept over the years. The war years had brought out the best in people, living and working together in difficult times, and had instilled a community spirit throughout the country. It was hoped that this would continue during the coming years.

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