大象传媒

Baptism of Fire
By
Enid Andrews

I looked out of the window. It was one of those dreamy days when you think of cricket on the green, and daisy chains, and home-made lemonade on the lawn.

Sunday August 18th 1940 is a day that will always remain in my memory. I was 21 years old at the time, living with my parents in Caterham, just over a mile from Kenley aerodrome. My father was working at St Lawrence鈥檚 hospital at the time and as he had to start duty at 1 o鈥檆lock that day we ate our Sunday dinner unusually early 鈥� probably one of the few families to eat dinner that day.

After father had gone, Mother and I sat for a while. 鈥淚t鈥檚 such a lovely day,鈥� she said, 鈥渓et鈥檚 get the washing up done and take the deckchairs into the garden for the afternoon鈥�.

We were halfway through washing up when the air-raid siren started its mournful wail. There hadn鈥檛 been much arial activity in Caterham yet. There had been a raid on Croydon a few days previously, but that had only rattled our windows slightly.

鈥� Oh bother!鈥� said mother, putting down the dishcloth, 鈥淚 suppose we had better go to the shelter. I hope they are not coming back to Croydon again鈥�.

So we left the washing up and made our leisurely way to the Anderson shelter in the garden. At that time this was a primitive construction. Its only amenity was an upturned enamel basin acting as a step to make descending into the shelter more easy.

By now there was a sound of aircraft overhead. 鈥淚 suppose they鈥檝e gone up from Kenley to see what鈥檚 happening鈥� was my na茂ve observation.

The sound suddenly became louder and nearer. 鈥淚 don鈥檛 think they ought to fly so low鈥� said mother, with the innocence of the ignorant, 鈥渢hey could do some damage or hurt themselves鈥�. just listen to this one, it must be nearly on the ground鈥�.

She put her head out of the door of the shelter, and I peered over her shoulder. In a shower of leaves and branches a huge shape came through the trees and sped past with a great roar, just above eye-level. A smaller shape followed on its tail and suddenly eight machine guns blasted off a few yards from our ears. The shock of the sight and the noise turned our legs to jelly and we collapsed onto the dirt floor of the shelter. We lay there in silence as Armageddon raged all around us. Never before or since have I experienced such noise. There was a boom of the anti-aircraft guns, the swish of bombs through the air and the sinister crump as they landed, the constant spatter of machine guns, and above all, the droning, roaring, spluttering of aircraft engines.

As I lay there on the floor of the shelter I was convinced we were going to die. Survival in that ferocity of hatred was surely impossible. I felt no fear, only resignation. Then mother began to stir and with her tendency towards melodrama said 鈥淟et me lie on top of you, I鈥檝e had my life鈥� She was about 45 at the time!

Feeling it necessary, for my sake, as well hers, to pretend it was a perfectly ordinary situation, I said, 鈥渄on鈥檛 be so soppy, we鈥檙e quite alright鈥�. She accepted this answer and went on, 鈥渨ell I鈥檓 glad your father鈥檚 at work. They鈥檒l have a good shelter there鈥�

I don鈥檛 know how long the raid lasted. Time had no existence. But eventually it became quiet and the All Clear sounded. We had difficulty climbing out of the shelter because our legs were still wobbly. We were relieved to see our house and those around about were still there. No longer was there a summer sky. A huge cloud of smoke rose from the aerodrome and spread all over the sky. There was a smell of bonfires and oil and engines. All over our garden and the waste ground next door were branches and leaves and strips of tinfoil. We staggered into the house and Mother set about making that universal comforter in times of stress 鈥� a cup of tea. Down the road Sunday dinners lay cold on the table or burning in the oven.

Peaceful summer days were over for that year. There were many more frightening experiences to come but nothing shocked us like that raid. We were battle hardened. The vicious savagery of that day brought home to us the reality of war. We knew that a powerful enemy was intent on destroying us. With unrealistic optimism we had no doubt about the outcome but we knew we might not live to see it. We knew we were vulnerable and life was never quite the same again.

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