大象传媒

My father leaned through the door of the cubby hole under the stairs, grabbed my hand and said, 'Come on son, time is short.' I was halfway out when the air filled with dust and the front door started to move towards us, slowly and perfectly upright. The door hit my father and he fell on top of me, both of us ending up back in the cubby hole. We never heard the explosion.

The night had started as a perfect autumn evening; bright and cloudless, the moon full and the clear air crisp and fresh. Now the air stank of stale, singed dust, similar to an old Hoover dust bag. After scrambling out of the cubby hole and putting out a fire in the parlour, we made our way to our allocated shelter in the next street. The fire had been a small one; the cinders from the grate had been blown onto the carpet, and had presented no problem as there had been two large pans of water on the stove.

It was the night of 14 November 1940, the place was Coventry and I was eight years and nine months old. The air raid had started much earlier than usual, the sirens going off at approximately 7pm. Father had gone out to check and the street's air raid warden told him, 'Get Sarah and the kids in the shelter, this is a big one.'

We had an arrangement with the neighbours, whose rear garden was opposite ours, that we could go through their garden and house to reach the shelter. The gardens were divided by a tarmacadam 'entry' which was wide enough for the coal delivery lorry.

My father put me in the cubby hole while he took my mother and younger brother to the shelter. The bombs were falling quite close by this time and Mr Duck, our neighbour, told my father to fetch me while he ensured my mother and brother were safely escorted to the shelter.

The all clear sirens sounded at about 6am the next morning. During the night, when there was a lull in the bombing, my father took me outside to look at the devastation. We lived in the high part of Coventry and could usually clearly see the famous three spires in the city centre. That night all we could see was smoke, flames and a dull orange glow in the sky.

The next morning only two spires were visible through the smoke as I walked into the city with my father. We were looking for food; all we found was ruin and death.

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