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Strength In Togetherness — Frances Hichings

Living in Brixton was very tough during the Second World War. It was right in the middle of heavy bombing, and trying to live a normal Eastender life was very difficult to say the least. Although now I am 86 years old some things have been forgotten. I was married just before war broke out and moved to Tulsehill. I then became pregnant with my first child Mary.

The bombs did not drop everyday. One day I went to Brixton to see my mother, and I was stopped by the police as a landmine blew up right in from of mum’s house. Eventually they let me go to see her, she was sitting by the fireplace, shaking violently from shock, and I tried to get her to go to the hospital, but she had my brothers and Dad coming home for tea, and she said that life goes on. Thankfully I was not there as they all felt sure I would have lost my baby. A big crater was left where the front garden used to be. A policeman had to be on guard all day and night outside Mum and Dad’s house. Some time later there was another bombing raid. A bomb had just missed my parents house, and landed four houses down the road. It was a friend of our family’s home. They had all been sitting around the dining table eating their dinner when the raid happened. They died as they sat there. Their children were killed aswell. Dad had to dig out the bodies. The shock was too much after he went missing he had gone for a walk, found himself on London Bridge, the warning siren went off and he had to crawl over London Bridge, he was taken to hospital to recover from the shock.

My husband Stanley was called up but due to the fact he was driving trains he had to stay there till the war was over;
and he continued working as a train driver until he retired. Dad had done his Fire Duty on the roofs, so did my father-in-Law who went deaf as a result of the noise of the bombing raids which was so great.

My daughter was born in Maidenhead in Berkshire, we had to go there as it was unsafe in Tulsehill. We had relatives in Maidenhead, but we did not stay there for long before coming back to Brixton. I stayed with Mum and Dad. Food was hard to come by especially fruit; you had to be one of the first in the queue to get bread from the bakers or meat from the butchers. Most things were in short supply. I had to be on my guard whilst taking my daughter out for a walk in her pram. I had to be prepared to be near shelters, as an Air Raid warning could go off at any time. Time went on and we had two other children, eventually we had to evacuate to Perranporth and Truro in Cornwall. We all travelled by train, my sister Eva and her small son came too. The children screamed all the way as it was dark, and no lights were allowed as the bombs fell, we could have got out of the train to run for shelter, but we decided to stay on the train and take our chances.

We stayed in Perranporth for six months, and then my husband came to fetch us home. The train going back was filled with soldiers, and they helped us with the little ones. The journey was long and once again dark, but we somehow managed. We went to stay with my husbands Mum and Dad who lived in South Norwood, when the bombs came down mother-in-law put us all in a cupboard. We were squashed like sardines, there no room for father-in-law. My young daughter managed to get out and ran down the road, with bombs overhead she was terrified so was I but I managed to catch her, and bring her back safely. The fire smell was thick in the morning, with burning buildings and wood. We went to see my mother in Brixton and took the children; we went for a walk and had too spend the night in an underground shelter. We did not have much to eat or drink, people were kind, and everyone pulled together, especially for the children. My youngest daughter Doris would not stop crying, as she was really frightened. Mary thought it was a game, and enjoyed the other children; my third child was on his way. I kept asking myself, have we a future? Will we survive? My nerves were jangling every time the siren went off.

We moved to Livingstone Road in Thornton Heath, my Dad built an Anderson shelter in the garden. We put blankets; candles; tins of corned beef, tea and artificial sweeteners saccharin’s. Though quite often we had to utilise these in the house, as these items were hard to com

One night in particular the bombs were coming thick and fast. The worst bombs, were the incendiary bombs, because you could hear them coming, and hoped that they did not stop making their humming noise as it could mean that they landing on us. If you could hear their noise, you knew that they were landing somewhere else. If the noise stopped it meant that they were going to land on you, we lived on the edge most of the time.

One awful day my baby son was lying in a suitcase in the fireplace, we were prepared to move quickly if there was to be another air raid. When the siren went off only it went off but not before a bomb hit next door but one. Soot came down the chimney, covering my baby son, and in the panic and chaos that ensued no water was available he stopped breathing, we managed to get him breathing but he now was mentally backward, and did not walk or talk till he was five, when we found out he had brain damage. Although he was slower than the rest of children he was happy and contented, and never complained.

While everything was banging and exploding all around us, my father-in-law (John Hutchings) decided we must at all costs try and take the children’s’ attention away from the awful carnage outside, so my husband and his brother Frank entertained them, playing the piano, singing and jumping and laughing.

My husband carried on working on the railways, as quite a few men had Tuberculosis (TB) and did not live long.

At the top of the road, was a massive water tank. This was used to put out the fires when the bombs dropped. People all clung together helping each other out, going shopping was a nightmare, as the planes flew over hoping they were our planes, then having to share the nearest shelters with strangers if there was room. With three children under five years old it was so difficult. Help was always there, just as you started to panic, which way do we run? We used to think it would never end. One night the siren went off, and getting the children up and together was frightening. They were screaming as we got outside going to the shelter I put Mary and the baby Stanley together up on the bunk away from the water which by now was over my boots and turned round to get Doris, she was running down the garden screaming as she was so frightened. I ran after her, bombs, planes were overhead and a thunderstorm had started as well. I grabbed Doris quickly and then a sudden flash! Three doors down. We fell to the ground terrified by now, we were not only shocked but soaked through. We got back to the shelter and could not get dried, and had to stay there all night, soaked and frozen. We were so cold as we huddled together till the all clear, then it was over.

When VE day was announced suddenly it was all over. We all rallied round to arrange a street party, at last a new beginning. No more bombs, peace. Now we could look ahead but it has left scars. When any thunderstorms occur I still have to run and hide, I cannot stand to hear or see the lightening. My daughters are the same, to this day.

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