大象传媒

I am submitting this story on behalf of Mr Douglas Ingram.

It was a late summer's afternoon in the middle of August. The year was 1944. We had been at war with Germany for nearly five years. Two months earlier Hitler had launched his terror or revenge weapons against England.

However, all this meant little to me on that warm summer afternoon as I played contentedly outside my parents house in Chatham. I was just six years old - my birthday having been two weeks previously. The pungent, yet not unpleasant smell of disinfectant hung heavy in the air. Mother had earlier scrubbed the back yard and it was her practice to always use disinfectant.

As I played I became aware of an aircraft's engine noise. It did not sound like anything I had heard before. Looking up I saw, what appeared to be, a small plane, apparently on fire, approaching from the South East. The "plane" rapidly drew closer and I saw that the "fire" was a flame coming from a tail pipe mounted on the back. The "plane" was a dull grey in colour, with short stubby wings, and no apparent cockpit for a pilot.

The "plane" or Doodlebug was now immediately over my house; perhaps 100-150 feet above. As I watched excitedly, for I don't recall being frightened, the beat of its engine seemed to hesitate. At the same time the flame from the tail pipe faltered as if it was about to be extinghished.

I watched the doodlebug continue in the direction of the River Medway and The City of Rochester until I lost sight of it.

In a state of elation I ran into my house to tell my mother what I had seen. She had the radio on whilst she attended to my younger brother and sister. The kitchen table was laid for tea. As she listened to my rather garbled story her face changed and I could see concern there. She did not say much or explain fully to me what I had seen. Hower I remembered hearing the words Flying Bomb. But nothing could diminish my excitement. I had seen something extraordinary and memorable. I couldn't wait to tell my school friends.

Years later, as an adult, I learned more of those war years and, in particular, details of the V1 and V2 weapons and the horror and destruction caused to life and property. I learned that a V1 had crashed in Strood (near Rochester) on 15 August 1944 at 4.45pm. Tragically 4 people were killed and 22 injured.

My Doodlebug, for I am convinced that this is what I had seen on that summer afternoon, had brought so much excitement to me, yet had been the cause of a tragic loss of life and undoubted misery to many people.

Three years ago my wife and myself spent a few days with French friends near Hesdin in the Pas de Calais area. During our stay we were taken into the forest nearby and shown the ruins of a V1 launch site, As I stood on what remained of the launching ramp I wondered whether my doodlebug might have been launch from this very spot. It was probably unlikely but nevertheless, in a way, being there seemed to complete the circle.

The events of that summer afternoon, nearly 60 years on, are permanently etched in my memory, like a photograph. The noise of the doodlebug is hauntingly clear also. Even now the strong smell of disinfectant reminds me of that afternoon when as a child I experienced my 'war time adventure.'
Douglas F Ingram 3rd December 2003

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