大象传媒

During the war we were living in 'Bomb Alley', so called because it was on the direct route for enemy bombers on their way to London. It was also within a few miles of Biggin Hill airfield. Our shelter consisted of sheets of corrugated iron wedged up against the hall ceiling with four enormous wooden posts, one in each corner of the large square room. I slept in here on a folding camp bed, my parents had moved their bedroom downstairs to the sitting room with the wardrobes standing up against the windows to shield them from any flying glass. Their former bedroom was then our sitting room. We used to sit up here in the window, watching puffs of black smoke from aerial gunfights and listening to the sinister drone of bombers and fighter planes. My father had fought in WW1 and in this war manned the anti-aircraft guns with the Petts Wood Homeguard. Unbelievably, in order to keep his Company open so that all those who had enlisted would have jobs to return to after the war, he used to commute to the City of London every day. Then after a short rest in the evening, he would walk the mile or so down to the gunsite to man the guns. I clearly remember the V1s or Doodlebugs - in particular one day we were standing chatting in the front garden, when we heard a tremendous roaring. Over the trees up the road we saw a huge Doodlebug appear, with flames pouring out of the back. The engine had stopped and it would crash at any time. The V1 flew on straight down the road, so low that its wingtips were lower than the rooftops. We flew indoors,flung ourselves down on the hall floor and waited in terror for the crash. When it came, we hardly dared look to see what damage had occurred. The lead in our stained glass landing window was a twisted mass and the coloured glass was shattered all down the stairs. We went outside but could see nothing. We found out later that the V1 had for no apparent reason turned a right-angle further down the road, miraculously in the one place where there were no houses. It had then crashed in the large back garden of an empty house. Though much damage had been caused, no-one was hurt.

I had the option of being evacuated with my school, but preferred to remain with my parents. Most children in our road had gone away. I continued going to school in Bromley, often having lessons in a shelter dug out beneath the playground, until it was considered too dangerous and I then stayed at home. Many houses in the road were empty but some had been requisitioned for members of the Black Watch Regiment. They were very friendly and we loved to watch them marching up the road, playing the bagpipes. They were then sent abroad and I am told that none of them came back.

My father dug up the back lawn and planted vegetables and we kept chickens at the end of the garden. In order to be able to buy chicken feed, my mother had to sell a certain number of eggs to the Ministry of Food each week. I still remember the awful smell when she cooked food for the chickens.

My parents were told that, as they had a spare bedroom, they must take in two scientists who were going to work at the Research Establishment at Fort Halstead, Kent. My mother prepared the room and waited to receive the scientists, but the appointed day came and went and they never arrived. Two men did, however, come to stay with a family two doors away.

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