大象传媒

Our home in Thornton Heath was near Croydon Airport (then London's major airport) and not far from Biggin Hill one of the RAF's major fighter bases. Throughout the Battle of Britain the airport, and its nearby aviation related factories, were major targets for the Luftwaffe. However as a 10 year old boy, oblivious to potential danger, and with my parents out at work, I would stand in awe on our veranda watching the dogfights in the sky above. I saw a number of aircraft shot down and aircrew floating to earth on their parachutes. I cheered when a Jerry was hit and cried when it was a Spitfire or Hurricane. I had no sense of danger - it was like the today's equivalent of watching a football match!

For us youngsters, watching the war in the air was an almost daily pastime. I could identify not only the Spitfire, Hurricane, Messerschmidt, Dornier, Heinkel etc, but knew which Mark they were, their armaments, cruising speed, number of crew etc - it was a fascinating and exciting hobby.

Walking to and from Gonville Infants School we used to collect shrapnel and could tell whether it was from bombs or Ack Ack shells. There was regular swapping with friends to enhance the collection.

Early in the war, together with our cat, Wid, I slept under the stairs until, during the blitz, we installed a Morrison shelter in the living room. It was quite big and could accommodate several of us in reasonable comfort.

Late one night, after the usual air raid, our doorbell rang and my aunt and uncle and their children arrived, having been bombed out of their home near the airport. They had walked several miles, during the raid, to get to our house. Fortunately, none of them was injured and they stayed with us until their home was repaired.

Although we lived a long way from the Thames, I vividly remember the sky being lit up when the London Docks were set alight by thousands of incendiary bombs. There was a red glow right across our northern skyline, pierced by searchlights and peppered by exploding Ack Ack shells.

I saw very little of my father during the blitz since, during the day he was running his factory, making aircraft parts in Stoke Newington and, at night he was an ARP Warden. I don't know when he ever slept! I particularly remember him coming home early one morning and telling me about a German seamine that was suspended by its parachute and lodged in a tree a few streets from our home. He had helped to evacuate local residents whilst the bomb disposal boys disarmed the beast.

Being so young and innocent and not really understanding what war was about, I can honestly say that I was more excited by what was happening around me than frightened. It was only when I grew older that I realised the true significance of it all.

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