大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by Matthew Smaldon on behalf of Joseph Smith and has been added to the site with his permission. Mr Smith fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

'I was born in 1934, in Alanhurst New Jersey, USA. My father was an electrician in the Merchant Navy, and he met my mother when he came to America. Around the time of the outbreak of the war in 1939 we came to England, to a village called Petham, near Canterbury. There were my three brothers, my sister and me.

My father was working as a cobbler in Canterbury, but at night he was a firewatcher. In 1940 he was killed, in a road accident at night, as he was on his way to fire watching duty. My mother couldn鈥檛 cope, and my brothers and I were sent to a children鈥檚 home. While we were living there, I can remember watching dogfights in the sky over Kent. If they were bombers, we knew they were one of their planes. It looked liked disorganised chaos, with parachutes coming down, and planes being shot down.

In 1941 I was fostered by a couple who lived in Darenth, near Dartford in Kent. Before I arrived there, they had experienced a bomb landing near their street. They had lost tiles on their roof, and had damage from incendiaries. We had an air raid shelter, an Anderson shelter, which was built in the side garden, by the front of the house. We spent nights in there 鈥� it always felt damp, being 4 or 5 foot under the ground. I remember seeing doodlebugs quite often, later in the war. Several landed within ten miles of where we lived. One day, when I was in the bath, we heard one flying overhead 鈥� then its engines stopped. That meant it was going to crash. Well, I jumped out of the bath, naked, and ran to the shelter, and my foster mother said to me 鈥淕o back and put some clothes on!鈥�, and I was shouting 鈥淚t鈥檚 stopped! It鈥檚 stopped!鈥� Luckily it didn鈥檛 crash near us.

Most frightening were the V2 rockets. They were silent 鈥� you never knew if it was going to land on you. They could knock out whole streets. Occasionally we used to see one being chased by fighters, trying to shoot it down, but it left them in its wake.

My foster mother used to send me and my younger foster brother into Dartford to get the groceries. We used to queue up together at one shop, then I鈥檇 leave him with the groceries, and I鈥檇 go to another shop and queue up again to get some more. It used to me queuing with 50 housewives. I had my first banana after the war 鈥� I didn鈥檛 know how to open it. For fun, we used to play cricket on the village green, tag with the girls, playing in the woods, all sorts of things. I was known as the boy who rode his mother鈥檚 bike around the village 鈥� until I got a second hand one for my 11th birthday. I remember I got caught scrumping twice, and got a good telling off for tearing a hole in my sweater.

Next to where we lived, there was a petrol pump. I remember the American troops arriving. Their lorries were queued up the street, waiting for the petrol. And of course we were always asking 鈥楪ot any gum, chum?鈥� I remember it didn鈥檛 really taste of much, the flavour went quickly, but it was a novelty.

At the end of the war, there were street parties, and I remember the euphoria. But our next door neighbour had a son, who was a big bloke, who was in a Japanese prisoner of war camp. When he came back he was virtually a skeleton 鈥� he had had a horrendous time. His mother was gutted. He was nothing like the man who had left.'

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