大象传媒

One Wednesday on 25th September 1940, is one that I shall never forget. Lots of us girls were working in various departments of the Bristol Aeroplane Company (as it was called then) in Rodney Works, on different parts of engines. It was my jobs to rivet the different baffle plates. A baffle plate is part of the engine which was a shield, which was wrapped around each cylinder. There was another one which was an oblong shaped piece of metal which I used to rivet using a 3/16th size of hole to connect small rods, with which to connect the plate to the aircraft, and the rods also strengthened the Baffle plate. This was the baffle part of the piston engine used in the Bristol Blenheim, and Wellington鈥檚 and other fighter bombers.

During the middle of the morning the sirens had gone which meant we had to hurry to our air-raid shelters. This was known as 鈥淭he Bugles鈥�. We had not been there long when the 鈥渁ll clear鈥� was sounded and this was relayed by special music, "Marchin Thro Georgia", all of which we were familiar with.

However we had not been back at our machines for very long when again the sirens went off for the second time, and we were urged to hurry. The German fighter planes were overhead and we were being heavily bombed. As I reached the air-raid shelter and sat down, we were thrown from side to side in quick succession, by the bomb blasts. There was quite a lot of shouting and screaming and confusion. We were soon to realise that we would be very lucky to get out alive, but a very astute foreman named Fred Hemmings pulled me out and a lot of my workmates too.

When we were pulled out, it was to a scene of devastation that had gone on all around us. There were planes on fire, bombs still exploding; and people killed by the blast, lying around everywhere. As we made our way up the hill to the Filton Canteen the scene was utter chaos, and needless to say we felt we had no stomachs left. Our names were taken, and the dead and parts of the dead were taken to Filton Church to be identified later.

I lost many workmates in the Blitz which was one of many I was to experience, but owing to the splendid spirit of everyone that survived, we duly turned up for work the next morning. Unfortunately, this was only to find that there was still quite a lot of unexploded bombs lying around; but luckily my cherished chinchilla gloves were still intact in the drawer of my bench. Material possessions were all the more precious, because I knew that I would never replace them in wartime conditions. As a very young girl I was only about 16 or 17 years old, it was a shocking and distressing experience.

We worked 12 hours shifts from 6.45am to 6.45pm for 38 shillings a week, this was the most I ever earned during the four years.

Does anyone remember the first bomb that fell before the blitz in 1940?

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