大象传媒

I am pleased to see that the half-building left standing on the corner of Hampton Road and Alpha Road is at long last being razed to the ground. Each time I pass the site, many times a week, thoughts of the night it was a war victim still fill my mind. Its history has long passed into local lore: the epicentre of a catastrophe of a huge explosion, four people killed and hundreds of dwellings damaged or demolished.

On that disastrous night, pouring with rain, my fianc茅 and I were heading down Park Road. At the crossing with the High Street an enemy aircraft could be heard overhead. At this time the traffic lights were only partially covered, that is, the top half of the lens. Consequently the lights were reflecting upwards from the wet roads.

My fianc茅 and I hurried on towards 鈥楾he Roebuck鈥� public house, shrapnel pattering down on roofs and the road. As we reached the corner of Alpha Road opposite the pub there was an enormous blood-chilling bang from the direction of a shed-like building adjoining the rear premises of the pub. A customer was emerging from the side door of the pub, heading for the outside toilet. He cried, 鈥淲hat was that鈥�. My fianc茅 grabbed my arm and pushed me sharply towards the main entrance in Hampton Road. As we drew level with the door, there was a deafening explosion and we were sucked from the pavement, up the steps, crashing through the door and finishing spread-eagled on the floor of the bar amidst the carnage. We were trampled underfoot by customers exiting to the street. We had no injuries, apart from shock. My fianc茅 had her hat blown off and my hair was standing straight out in front of me 鈥� the effect of an implosion.

As best we could, we struggled through the debris and broken glass in the streets to the home of my fianc茅鈥檚 parents in nearby Edward Road. Having settled for the night, still badly shaken, after a short while, Wardens came crashing on the front door, saying there is a parachute mine hanging on a tree in 鈥淣o. 9鈥�. We were all gathered in No. 9 but the Warden omitted to say that he was referring to No. 9 Park Road, and in fact, fifty yards in front of the family鈥檚 house.

The outcome of the warning was that all family, children, parents and grandparents spent the night with my parents living in Windmill Road.

The following day I saw the second parachute mine, now defused, being dragged into the High Street after its haul through the local gardens, and by this time spilling its yellowy-green contents across the pavement. The irony is these two parachute mines, each the size of a pillar box, were British and captured when the Germans pushed the British out of France.

I learned later that the customer from 鈥楾he Roebuck鈥� who called out to my fianc茅 and me was killed, and history now reveals a total of four people were victims.

My fianc茅鈥檚 hat turned up months later on the head of a 鈥淩oebuck鈥� customer.

So 鈥� I am happy to see the demolition of the last vestiges of that local incident of 1940.

W. David Surman
Teddington, May 2003

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