大象传媒

This story has been written onto the 大象传媒 People's War site by CSV Storygatherer Coralie on behalf of David George Bromage. The story was been added to the site with his permission and David fully understands the terms and conditions of the site.

I start my brief story, the year being 1940. My friends and I went to Millbay Docks, the Stonehouse Gate. There we waited for the troops of the French and British Servicemen returning from Dunkirk. They marched from the docks, many of them with blood-soaked bandages. The foreign troops emptied out their pockets of coins and threw them to the waiting children to gather up. The wounded troops were taken to the Royal Marine Barracks close by or the Royal Naval Hospital, Stonehouse. Soon after Dunkirk every person was issued with Gas Masks. We boys nicknamed them Pigsnouts. It was during one of the daylight raids that enemy planes machine-gunned the playground of High Street School, the target being the close by Royal Naval Hospital. The heavy night raids were now affecting Plymouth, especially Stonehouse. The Royal Naval Hospital and the Royal Marine Barracks being the targets. In one heavy raid my family were blasted out of our house, 21 High Street. We had to take shelter under the Council Flats in High Street. The stores of these flats were made into Air Raid shelters. The same night Peel Street Flats was fire bombed. The shelters under the flats had to be shared with Peel Street and the surrounding houses. Toilet facilities in the shelters were rather primitive, one or two Elsan Pans for far too many families. The stench was out of this world being four or five hours at a time in the shelters. After the raids we boys would collect up any shrapnel and unexploded incendiary bombs. This was a common occurrence after many raids.

My mother who was the Dressmaker locally would very often get visits from the nurses at the Royal Naval Hospital, asking her to make them silk underwear out of parachute silk, the parachutes were from enemy pilots who were brought to the hospital.

We youngsters had to witness some horrific sights. I hope children today will never experience that destruction and death again.

"The Plymouth Blitz" which follows, is a poem I wrote which has now been published by "Poetry Now" Magazine.

THE PLYMOUTH BLITZ

The moon was laughing her smile so bright

The night they came to call.

The birds of death were seeking for you me one and all.

They dived through the searching lights calling for you me one and all.

They dropped the eggs of death for you me one and all.

The mothers, the children died that night like you me one and all.

The moon she laughed no more that night
but cried for you me one and all.

David G Bromage

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