大象传媒

This story has been written onto the 大象传媒's People's War site by CSV Storygatherer Robin.D.Bailey on behalf of the author Mrs Doreen Tregidga (nee Verrall). They fully understand the terms and conditions of the site.

I was born in February 1940, so I cannot remember my Dad going away to be a Trooper in the 11th Hussars. But I can remember him coming home on leave before going over with the D-Day Landings to fight through France etc. with the 8th Army, because he dug out a shelter for us in a steep bank of the wood surrounding the brick yard where we lived in Kent.

Quite often I was put to bed there, because although it was a "safe" area, we were actually right under the path of the German bombers heading for London. They quite often dropped their loads before, or got rid of the weight on the return journey; We had so many incendiary bombs dropped on us it was like daylight at night.

We did not have any near neighbours, and in the end my Mum got so frightened that we went to stay at East Farleigh with my Gran. It was quieter there, except for one particular night, while everyone was asleep, a doodlebug came down in the hop garden just across the road from us. The blast sucked all the windows out and Gran's aspidistra pot landed over the dog's head and jammed.

Mum and her sister rushed downstairs to see what damage was done; They had to break the pot off the dog's head, then decided to return to bed until it was light enough to see properly. Unfortunately, the blast had blown the soot down all the chimneys; They had been traipsing through it, but could not see it until it was daylght. So they got more than they bargained for!

My Mum and a lot of other women worked on the surrounding farms, and as I could identify the sound of doodlebugs approaching long before anyone else could hear them, they would put me on watch while they were working. When I heard one coming, I would stand on a box and shout a warning, then we would all hide in a hedge until it was clear.

I spent most of my early childhood either under a table, under the stairs, down a hole in the ground or in a hedge.

When my Dad finally came home, after the war had ended, I did not know him. In fact, in my world of all women, I was very nervous of any man for quite some time.

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