大象传媒

My name is Doris Armstrong. I was born on 1 January 1913 and I live in the village of St Tudy in North Cornwall, between Wadebridge and Bodmin. These are my memories of World War II.

August 1942
On a lovely summers evening at about 7.30pm our peace was shattered by a big bang and explosion coming from St Breward, the next village. A German plane had dropped a bomb in the centre of the village, demolishing the Sunday School, and killing a little boy who was playing nearby.

The German plane was being chased by our fighters and as it flew over, it dropped a bomb here and there to lighten its load. Later in time, I heard of several places where bombs had been dropped. Our peace was certainly disturbed. That was too close to be comfortable.

February 1943
It was a dark evening in spring at about 9.00pm. My sister and I both had a cottage in the village, but we used to come down to sleep each night at our father and mother's house, as our husbands were both overseas in the War. It was at this time that the War was raging on and things looked bad for Britain. The Germans were coming over and bombing Plymouth night after night. They came nine nights in succession. We dreaded each night, as we lay in our beds, and heard the droning of the planes as they passed over.

This particular evening we were sitting and talking together, when suddenly we heard a crack, crack, cracking from a German plane as it passed over the village. The next morning all was clear.

I was an Infant Teacher at the village school and on that particular day I had the afternoon off by permission to go to my grandmother's funeral in the next village of St Teath. During the lunchtime, I went up to my own cottage to get my black hat and gloves, and as I passed through the bedroom, I noticed dents in the linoleum on the floor. I looked up and saw a bullet stuck in the wall. I took it out.

The next day, I carried it to the Headquarters in the village and asked if I could keep it, of course the answer was No, it was a live bullet and you have to hand it in. I was thankful I was not sleeping in my cottage that night, as the bullet had just missed the bed.

Even in this quiet countryside village, we were scared at nights when we could not see what was happening in the darkness.

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