- Contributed by听
- Rutland Memories
- People in story:听
- D F J Monk
- Location of story:听
- Westminster City Estate, London
- Background to story:听
- Civilian
- Article ID:听
- A3641690
- Contributed on:听
- 09 February 2005
In the spring of 1940 my family were rehoused in a 3rd floor flat on the Westminster City Estate in Ebury Bridge Road. We had wide views over the surrounding area.
When the German bombing of London started, my parents made a decision that we would not go to the public air raid shelters. They had both lived through the 1914-18 war, my Father in the trenches on the Western Front and my Mother had experience of German bombing in the City of London. My Father鈥檚 view was 鈥淚f your number is up you will get it鈥. My Mother鈥檚 view was 鈥淚f you pray to God, he will protect you鈥.
On the terrible night of 7th September 1940, we experienced the sight of the whole sky to the east aflame, until a stick of bombs dropped nearby, which luckily did not explode, and we were evacuated to spend the night in surface shelters in Buckingham Palace Road. This appalling experience confirmed the wisdom of my parents鈥 decision.
On Sunday September 15th we were back in our flat and had relatives for lunch. By now we were used to the air raids and when my mother heard the sirens she decided that the food, which was well advanced in the oven, should be served when ready, whatever was going on, as things seemed quiet. I am unable to remember whether we were actually eating when we heard the noise of an aircraft, which seemed to be about to come through the roof, followed by a loud crash. As there was no explosion we went to the windows and saw an airman descending on a parachute which finally snagged on the guttering of a house almost opposite (Westmoreland Terrace, I think). A crowd quickly gathered and shortly some soldiers arrived to escort the airman away. There were rumours that he could not speak English, indeed was German, and some of the crowd wanted to attack him. It was only later that we heard he was from the RAF.
That afternoon we went to see the Hurricane and the wreckage of the Dornier that had crashed on Walker鈥檚 Jewellers at Victoria Station. On many Battle of Britain Sundays since then I have often reflected that it was a miracle that the aircraft crashed where they did. If they had crashed a few yards in any other direction many casualties would have been caused.
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