大象传媒

February 24, 1944 was my mother's 40th Birthday. As this was only a week or so after my Grandmother's Birthday, the family had arranged to meet at the "Boathouse" for a quiet drink. Despite a sudden spate of short sharp air raids (the first for over two years) it was decided that the arrangements should stand.

This suited me as my uncle was a friend of the publican and on these rare occasions I was allowed to sit in the hotel's kitchen. Added to this was the prospect of a fizzy grapefruit drink and, if available, a bag of Smith's crisps. The plan therefore was for me to go onto the "Boathouse" at 21:30.

As I left my friend's place in Bushwood Road, around 100 German bombers were over England and as I walked past Kew Pond and onto the Green, the air-raid sirens began in the far distance. By the time I reached the Bridge the local siren was growling as it slowly died away. Already in the distance I could hear gunfire so I started to trot. When I eventually reached the doors of the Boathouse the gunfire was still far away and, passing through the heavy blackout curtains, I poked my head into the bar. I waved to the family and my uncle signalled that I should go into the kitchen.

Passing through the swing doors I was greeted by two female members of staff, one of whom I knew from previous visits. There were also two American servicemen, who appeared to be well acquainted with the girls. My father brought my grapefruit drink and I settled back to enjoy it. For a time everything was fine.

Suddenly it was as though a gun battery was in the car park. The windows rattled as the barrage increased and a cluster of bombs fell. One hit the centre of the bridge, two exploded in the river and the last fell near a surface shelter to the rear of the Pier House Laundry.

The crash of the explosions rocked the kitchen and, at that moment, I saw a flash to my right. Assuming that I was caught in the explosion I fled, in sheer panic, through the nearest exit at the rear of the kitchen. Rushing through I found myself in a dark passage but the door at the end was firmly locked. As I rattled it there was a thud on the outside and a flickering blue light glowed beneath the door.

With no chance of an exit I quickly returned to the kitchen. In the far corner of the kitchen an incendiary bomb was crackling away showering whitish blue pieces over the hard tiled floor. One of the American serviceman was lying flat on the tiles and yelling at the others to do likewise in case the device contained an explosive charge.

In the doorway my mother shouted at me to get out. Water was coming through the ceiling just above the door but she appeared oblivious to the fact that she was getting wet. Back into the lounge it was almost empty of customers. There was a commotion behind the bar, where possibly another device was burning. Together with my family we reached the car park where the noise of the guns and aircraft passing overhead accompanied the explosions of bombs. The sky was full of orange lights floating downwards. My father and uncle practically lifted my grandmother from the ground and we all hurried across the car park. One or two unexploded incendiaries were lying around and we were careful to avoid them. Plenty of activity on the far side of the Bridge indicated that Brentford was having a hectic time.

A firebomb had struck a solitary vehicle by the car park entrance and lodged between the bonnet and wing. The motorist was tackling the fire with what appeared to be a quart bottle of beer!

Up on the Green a number of twinkling lights marked the spots where bombs were burning on the grass and away to the right, closer to Ferry Lane, flames were shooting from the top floor of a building. We dashed below ground into the shelter which was the first time I had taken cover on Kew Green since September, 1940.

Eventually the all-clear sounded and we emerged and made a way to Priory Road. There was now nothing to be seen around the green. All the incendiaries and the fire further over had been extinguished. There was still a glow in the sky from a fire much further east, but apart from this, complete darkness.

The Boathouse was still there (which surprised me) with the only evidence being a number of different coloured patches on the roof where the bombs had pierced through. A number of lads had managed to obtain Thermite from some of the unexploded devices but this proved difficult to ignite!

I recall that the events left me feeling a little light-headed and this took a day or two to calm down. These days we would probably call it traumatic stress.

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