大象传媒

I lived in Bradford, Manchester at the time of the blitz. The local people had taken over an empty corner shop equipped with stirrup pumps, long-handled shovels, water buckets, etc., for putting out incendiary bombs which were frequently dropped during air-raids. The 'post' was the place where local men met when it was their turn on 'fire-watch' duty for which there was a rota, as the men worked during the day. They patrolled the streets when a raid was in progress, looking out for fires. A tin hat was worn as a protection against falling shrapnel, etc.

On the night in question my dad and a neighbour who lived in one of the terraced houses opposite to ours were on duty. Incidentally, I called this neighbour Uncle George, and they had been patrolling quite a while and decided to go into Uncle George's house to brew up. The kettle was to go on the open fire but as the fire had burned low, they put a shovel and newspaper up in front of the fireplace to create a draught and blow some life into the fire. Older people will recall the practice. Care had to be taken that the paper did not set alight - which it did. With a whoosh the burning paper shot up and set fire to the chimney. The German planes were overhead and might use the burning chimney as a 'marker', so they set to with a stirrup pump which was handy, one pumping the other directing the water up the chimney. They managed to put out the fire but in the process were covered in soot -wet soot. Their faces were black and only the whites of their eyes were visible.

Worn out and still thirsty, they went out into the street and looked up at a fierce
red glow which lit up the sky. The centre of Manchester, about two miles away, had been bombed with incendiaries and many buildings were burning fiercely. My dad looked at Uncle George, shook his head and said "You know, we needn't have bothered - Gerry wouldn't have seen our fire anyway!"

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