大象传媒

When I hear a siren - like the one at the end of Dad鈥檚 Army on the TV 鈥� in a split second I鈥檓 back there. It鈥檚 not a case of remembering 鈥� I will never forget. At first it was a bit of a game 鈥� all 15 and 16 year olds were mustered to sandbag hospitals and public buildings. I was 15 when the War started and 22 when it ended 鈥� I lost my youth. I鈥檇 just finished my exams and was supposed to be going to college. The war disrupted lives 鈥� you had to grow up very quickly and find a strength from within. It鈥檚 amazing what a human being can stand in the face of adversity. When I look at 15 year olds today I shudder to think what would have been expected of them. However I don鈥檛 begrudge them their lives, as nobody should have to go through what our generation did.

We lived in North West London, about half a mile from a power station, which was a major target during the Blitz. There were five of us. My father was an Engine Driver. Our air raid shelter was a hole in the bottom of the garden; 8-9ft deep, plugged up with dirt covered by a plank. Four or five of us were in there every night for 2 陆 years 鈥� from seven at night until seven in the morning. In the summer it would only be for 7 or 8 hours but in the winter it could be for up to 15 hours. The clay soil in London meant it was constantly becoming waterlogged and we鈥檇 have to bail the water out.

The worst thing about being in the shelter was the uncertainty of what would be left the following morning 鈥� would your house still be there? Would your neighbours still be there? The only information we received in the shelter was through the wireless. You had to believe what you heard but you knew it wasn鈥檛 the whole story because if they always told the truth it would harm morale. You had to guess what might have happened 鈥� and then find out who was missing when you went to work the next day. That was the worst thing 鈥� hoping your father would walk in at the end of each day 鈥� you never knew if you would see those you cared about again. My brother used to keep budgerigars in an aviary in the garden. One night an oil bomb landed and the fumes killed all of the birds. It was almost as upsetting as losing people 鈥� they were so innocent 鈥� what had they done to us or to anybody for that matter?

The comradeship that existed between everybody during the Blitz is something I remember fondly. Doors and windows were always open and everybody did what they could to help in whatever way they could. People would pool their rationed food, make tea or, if somebody鈥檚 house was destroyed, they would be put up by a neighbour, with no questions asked. Nobody was a stranger during the war 鈥� and amid the helplessness there was always hope鈥︹�︹�︹�︹��

We lived on powdered potatoes and powdered eggs so 鈥榬eal鈥� eggs were a rarity. We had a boiled egg rota in place for when a real egg arrived鈥�.. If you saw a banana it was big news.

At 16 I joined the factory based Home Guard; I was very proud as I felt I was actually able to do something useful. We wore the same uniform as regular soldiers (with the 鈥楬ome Guard Flash鈥�) which bore the same insignia; a bow and arrow pointing upwards.

At 17 I transferred to the 71st Middlesex Home Guard with Gunnersbury 鈥楤鈥� Troop, Heavy Anti-Aircraft Battery, where I manned the 3.7鈥�* anti-aircraft guns at Gunnsbury Park. There were eight guns in total, four of which were manned by regular soldiers, four by the Home Guard, making up the Battery.

At the time I worked 12 hour shifts, from 6.00 am 鈥� 6.00 pm. I was on duty with the Home Guard every sixth night, which meant working my 12 hour shift, then off to Battery, sometimes encountering action for 6 to 8 hours through the night, then back to work again!

We鈥檇 sometimes get to stand down and have cocoa and corned beef sandwiches during a shift; a real privilege. I felt very satisfied at being able to help to protect my family and my friends but I was oh so tired!

We used to watch the flying bombs coming in 鈥� they were scary. The first time I saw one I thought it had been shot down because it had flames behind it, but I soon learned that wasn鈥檛 the case. They used to stop suddenly in mid air and drop. You would say to yourself: 鈥淜eep going, don鈥檛 stop鈥�. Then there were the V2s 鈥� you would never hear or see them but 5 houses would disappear. The scariest were the land mines. You would see the white of their parachute as they floated down - where they landed would depend on the way the wind blew. They could destroy a street at a time. It felt bad hoping they wouldn鈥檛 hit your part of town because it would mean somebody else would be getting it.

Despite all the modern technology 鈥� the one thing you cannot recreate is the smell 鈥� that was the real horror. The smell of cordite, bombs, debris, burst gas mains, burning timber and sometimes burning flesh is something that will never leave me.

*3.7鈥� referring to the diameter of the shells

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