大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War Site by Three Counties Action, on behalf of Norman Stanley, and has been added to the site with his permission. The author fully understands the site鈥檚 terms and conditions.

In 1941 some of the biggest air raids were on London. Living a Harrow I remember going out to the front of the house and seeing and hearing shells bursting of the antiaircraft guns and hearing shrapnel falling on the roofs. The sky over London was red with reflection fire. On one raid some 550 bombers dropped bombs killing 20,000 people. The war was not going very well, it was a very dark and depressing time. There were shortages of food and fuel and we were retreating from many parts of the world.

My father had made plywood shutters for the windows in the living room and the kitchen this made a secure black. These kept the kitchen warmer (early double glazing) as well as protecting us against bomb blast. We spent most of our time listening to the wireless and making use of heat from the gas cooker and the old 鈥業deal鈥� fire a thing that did its best if we had enough coke to heat the water for our occasional bath.

In the summer of 1944 Doodle Bugs 9flying bombs) started to arrive in the southeast of England including Harrow. The first one fell on houses near the Granada cinema on a Sunday evening. A spitfire fighter had been in pursuit and trying to catch up with the bomb all the way from the coast in Kent. It wanted to tip its wing on the flying bomb to change its direction away from town. It failed unfortunately but I did circled over Harrow as if to apologise for not been able to redirect the horrific thing.

The next bomb was what I call 鈥渁 near miss鈥�. In that summer a week or so later, at about 6am I was beginning to awake laying on top of my bed as it was so warm with just a bed sheet over me. Then, half asleep I could hear that unmistakeable sound of the jet engine getting louder and louder. I pulled the bed sheet over my head as my bed lay directly alongside the window. The sound got deafening loud then there was that massive detonation of the bomb. Looking out of my bedroom window to the right I could see a great cloud of brown smoke drifting over the gardens of my neighbours. My windows did not break or crack thank goodness. Mother was downstairs鈥� sleeping in the Morrison table shelter in the dinning room. I thought I must dash down to see how she was. Going out on to the landing with bare feet I was surprised to find plaster over the carpets that slowed me down. Mother was all right but worried about me. The front door had its lock torn off the wooden frame. We were lucky; only one window broken in the house and that was in the front room. I remember my mother signing to herself 鈥淥h What a Beautiful Morning鈥� with a dustpan in her hand as she swept up the glass. The family whose house the Flying Bomb landed had been in a shelter down the road all night and had just gone back to their home to make breakfast before going to work. They were all killed. Going down the road later it was a sad sight to see the chaos of the wreckage of one鈥檚 neighbours houses. How lucky the engine of the flying bomb did not cut out earlier as it had actually flown over the roof of my house.

A week or so later the next Flying Bomb fell about a mile away in North Harrow and blew up and completely destroyed a building that had been specially built for a British Restaurant, it had only been opened a week. Run by the council it was a restaurant, where you could obtain a good hot meal at a basic price for about 2/6d (12陆p). These restaurants you could substituted your own food rations, they were good value for money you could afford.

My next experience of a 鈥渘ear miss鈥� was when I was on my way to work in Old Jewry in the City of London. I had left Moorgate railway station at about 9.20am and walking down Coleman Street. The sirens had sounded to warn that flying bombs had been sighted towards London. You took little notice other than be alert that there may be one on the way. On the rooftops of the offices there were people watching the skies to the south to see if they had a sighting of a bombs coming towards them, if they thought that they looked like they were to target, the blew whistles and raised triangular cones from flagpoles. These cones were so places they could be seen from the street. If you saw a cone you properly could hear the engine, so take cover.

The whistles had blown, I could see the cones, and a jet engine was getting very loud. I then noticed that the street was empty except for one man. As I was passing an entrance door to a building I stepped in, going in as far as I thought would be safe, but then looking up I could see I was in a well of windows so I moved back a little towards the door when I saw the man from the street join me. The raw of an engine reflected very loudly in the streets stopped at the same time the explosion. Then out side the door to the street and from the well of windows it rained glass and dust. When it stopped I looked at the newcomer and said 鈥渢hat was a near one鈥�? He agreed and we went our ways.

As I continued my walk to Old Jewry it was only one hundred yards ahead of me, there I could see a vast pall of brown smoke drifting and dispersing. I nipped down one of the many alleyways鈥� to my office where I found it was very dusty and with a lot of glass on the windowsills and desks, so being a keen young office boy I got the dustpan and brush out and swept the worst up. I then got on with my job of balancing my stamp book. I had to make a note of every letter I had stamped and sent out the night before and record it in the book the cost of the stamp.

When the rest of the staff arrived about an hour later, they were quite surprised to see me and wandered how I got in the building. The buildings had been cordoned off, because the building where the bomb fell was next door. If I had been walking a minute faster I would have sheltered in it.

My boss said that I must have a cup of tea to calm it down. I did not care for tea much (there was no tea making in the office) I think they needed it more than me. He also asked if I smoked? I shyly said that I did sometimes when my mother gave me half of hers being too much for her. He gave me 6d (2陆p.) more than it would cost and sent to a Lyon鈥檚 teashop in Cheapside. He also said that I could use the telephone to tell my mother that I was 鈥渁ll right鈥�. I did not understand this because she would not have known of there had been a bomb.

The buildings at night had to have some sort of security (little as it was) in the event of a V1 or V2 (rocket bomb) falling. Staff from the offices had to supply a quota of personnel. MY turn came on night in the summer of 1944 just before I went in the army. We were given I think it was about 拢1.00 to cover supper and breakfast. We slept in the basement on camp beds next to the vaults.

My turn came to do what was called 鈥淔ire Watching鈥�, more like bomb watching. In the evening I went to have my supper, I was told of a recommended pub called The Plough in London Wall. The building stood alone on the corner of a crossroads in the vast space where buildings had once been.

I had not been to many pubs at my age (it was not allowed in those days); I was sitting up at the bar with a clean tablecloth on a high bar stool. It was a hot night and through to open doors I could see over the open spaces to the building of Smithfield Market. Half way through my supper of stuffed hearts (why should I remember that detail?) there was an enormous explosion in the Smithfield area. It was a V2; no warnings could be given for rocket bombs, they could not be heard or seen approaching. We all got off our stools and went outside, looking away. It had fallen very near the market just half a mile away. The general remarks were 鈥渢hat was a near one鈥� then we all went back to the bar and mounted our stools to continue our suppers.

By chance a few years ago (1997) I read in a journal about family history of a lady had written that during the war she had a 鈥渘ear miss鈥� in the Smithfield area. I wrote to this lady and she gave me an extraordinary story. On the night I was in the Plough it seems that she was one of the three girls who went out once a week after work to a caf茅 near Smithfield to talk over a cup of tea what experiences they had had in the past week. This particular night one of the friends told her that she was not well and would not be able to meet them at the usual caf茅. They location changed. The caf茅 where they usually went was destroyed by the V2. The one I witnessed only half a mile away. The lady remarked in her letter that we led an extraordinary life in those days. It was a way of life we got used to. There was no doubt we never knew what was going to happen next.

I certainly did not knew what was going to happen as within two months I was called up for the army instead of the Air Force for which I had been training for during the last three years. The four years I had in the army were not quite as bad as those during the bombing but the experiences in the army taught me a few things about life.
That鈥檚 another story.

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