大象传媒

I love other peoples stories, as a child I often listened, (and still do) to my parents next door neighbours telling me about London during the second world war. Bill Byford, who worked throughout the war at Beckton Gas Works, is now 92 and his son Allen thought it would be a good idea to get some of Bill's first hand recollections down on paper for future readers to appreciate just one side of the times endured by a Londoner during the Blitz. Allen penned Bill's own words, and I typed them up for this site; hopefully as time goes on it may be possible to get more memory snatches from Bill and record them too.

W.W II memories of William (Bill), George, Albert, Byford
Born: - 31-01-1913

At the onset of war Bill was a steam locomotive driver at Beckton Gas Works (East London).

Bills鈥� story:

I had worked at Beckton Gas Works, East London since 1932. At the outset of war every man of 鈥榗all up鈥� age had to register at the local Labour exchange, where we were given a number. What many people do not know, is that the Government told you what you would be doing, if your number was called up to serve in the forces or, latterly, down the mines, or told to stay in your present job, then that鈥檚 what you had to do!.

At Beckton we produced gas, (now called town gas), from coal, day and night without let up, throughout the whole of the war, including the London Blitz. Beckton consisted of 305 acres, which included the Retort Houses coke ovens, Chemical Works, Tar Works, etc. There were 24 heaps of coal- 6 of which contained 90 000 tons each, and another 18 heaps of about 45 000 tons.The Works had three gates,- 鈥淓ast Ham鈥�, 鈥淏arking鈥�, and 鈥淐ory鈥檚 Works鈥�, (also known as 鈥楢lbert Dock Hoist). When the war started the East Ham gate which was always manned by the company gate keepers suddenly acquired two soldiers and a beer barrel! The officer and 鈥渞ookie鈥� stood guard outside the gate house with the barrel in a little hut around the back. Sometimes we鈥檇 go down to the gate for our sandwiches and they鈥檇 sell us a beer, - a bit silly really considering the work we were doing but then it was war time and you took your pleasures as you could.

As war became imminent, we began storing coal everywhere we could, much of it stored beneath the viaducts which carried some of the overhead railway. At the gas making end of the Works we had about 45 Loco鈥檚, mostly with the cabs removed to allow access to the Retorts, five still had cabs. The Tar Works had about 15. At night, we only used the Loco鈥檚 for essential work, i.e 鈥� gas making. All the other Loco鈥檚 were dispersed around the Works, kept in steam with the fires 鈥榖anked up鈥�. Should they be in any danger we could then get them out quickly. The Company (North Thames Gas Board) employed a team of men to go round to each engine in turn to keep them 鈥渏ust in steam鈥�. Each Locomotive pulled 16 wagons of 4 陆 tons of coal each as a continuous supply to the coke ovens and Retorts, and for removing the, usually, white hot residue after baking.

Most of the war I drove Loco鈥檚 up the gradients and on to the viaducts, of which there were about 9 miles at a height of around 40 feet. (These viaducts were served by 2 signal boxes, each with 60 levers). At the start of the war the Company did provide elementary air raid shelters in the coal fields and dotted throughout the Works where no other shelter was within reach, but we found it impossible to stop the loco in a safe place, dampen the fire box, and find shelter every time there was a raid. So we just kept working in the open throughout the war; be they daylight raids, Blitz, V1鈥檚 or V2鈥檚, and anyway the Retorts needed a continuous supply. I鈥檒l admit it did get a bit 鈥榟airy鈥� sometimes on a footplate open to the elements and 鈥榝ireworks鈥� above, with a 40 foot drop beneath us and 72 tons of coal on your backside- and all in a black out!.Because of this 鈥渂lackout鈥� there weren鈥檛 many people on the works after night fall,- mostly just the retort housemen and us in the loco department. The coke ovens packed up as soon as it grew dark. When they pushed coke out of the ovens there was a white hot wall of coke about 18 inches wide by 20 foot high, and as there were about 180 ovens it would all show too much light too often. This white hot tower of coke was pushed through a couple of swagged chains which broke it up as it fell in to the 鈥渃oke car鈥� (a cast iron wagon which itself weighed about 90 tons). The light from all this was then shining straight up into the sky so it was obvious that work had to cease at night fall.

After the first night raid of the Blitz, Beckton was in quite a mess, heavy gauge rails were twisted and arching into the sky, I remember being shocked that an explosion could twist and bend such steel. Churchill came to visit the Works next day and I remember him saying from his car, 鈥渋t鈥檚 got to go back to work!鈥�, which of course it had to. So the Plate Layers and Fitters all set to, and we in the Loco department started moving the coal and coke the best way we could.

Throughout the war we worked a twelve hour shift, i.e 鈥� 12hrs on, 24 hrs off, and one of the hardest things was to leave Doris, my wife, alone in the Anderson shelter for the night. All the time during the raids wondering how she was, (she was then about 30yrs old), and worrying what I might come home to. Years after the war she told me that most of the time she was terrified! Most people can find some degree of bravery when in company, but alone, it鈥檚 something quite different. She spent much of the London Blitz alone in that shelter whilst I was at work, and she never really recovered from it. For the rest of our married lives, (Doris Died in 1995), she suffered a sort of permanent nervous exhaustion, and the sort of Tinnitus that would not allow her to sleep in any other position but upright, just another casualty of the London Blitz.

As the raids continued, the Docks nearby and Beckton were on fire almost continually. To help the local brigades and give them some rest, fire crews and their tenders were brought up from less stretched areas to help out in London. At Beckton I remember we had some of the Eastbourne Fire Service for some time until they were sent up to town. Also, within the Works we had our own C.C.S (Casualty Clearing Station) with its own operating theatre, full time Doctor and nursing Sister at night. Army personnel manned the barrage balloons (foreshore and sewer bank) and two A/A guns (on the coke plant and sewer bank) within the Beckton Works.

Note from Allen, Bills鈥� son: - what Bill will not tell you is that during the Blitz my Mother said to Bill 鈥渨ith all these bombs falling, I鈥檝e not seen one close up, I wonder what they look like ?鈥�. Bill always said that many of the thousands of incendiary bombs which fell on Beckton didn鈥檛 go off because they fell on the coke or coal heaps, which weren鈥檛 hard enough to detonate them. So, that night Bill found a couple of unexploded incendiaries, strapped them to his crossbar, cycled home, and presented them to Doris- rumour is that she went 鈥榣oopy鈥�!

The Works had two piers into 鈥渢he river鈥� (Thames), (No.1 coal pier to bring coal into the works and No.2 for ships to load coke to take away). Each pier had two arms. Towards the end of the war we would sometimes look up into an unencumbered night sky and watch the V1鈥檚 coming up the river. I was on the Viaduct 11am one Friday morning, when I heard a tremendous unheralded explosion from the L.C.C property adjoining the Works, 鈥榃ang鈥�!!!, and it blew out all the windows of the mechanical shop, this I think was the first V2 landing on London.

Beckton Gas Works had its own pub, called the 鈥楲ightship inn鈥�, known to all as 鈥楾he Shant鈥�. During the war it was 鈥楤litzed鈥�, but afterwards I went in for a look at the mess, tried one of the pumps, and am proud to say, 鈥淚 had the last pint in 鈥楾he Shant鈥�.

There were nine gas holders at Beckton, and we made gas for no.s 6 鈥� 9. No. 6 held six million cubic feet, No.7-seven million, up to No.9 containing nine million cubic feet of gas. Ater the first night raid, No.9 looked like a Christmas tree with candles. 鈥擲o many bomb splinters had pierced the iron skin of the holder 鈥攅ach hole had a little gas flame spurting from it- I suppose it looked quite comical!

One of our jobs was to collect coke from beneath the coke bunkers. These bunkers were like a rack of concrete towers about sixty foot high, numbered 1-10, each contained a couple of thousand tons of graded coke. During one raid we had some wagons drawn up under the bunkers when we heard a large H.E. (high explosive) explode in the river close by, followed by a loud 鈥渟sshh!!鈥� above us. Someone in the grading plant above us came rushing down to say that a second bomb had landed in No.1 bunker. The coke had cushioned its fall as it buried itself deep inside- the only tell-tale sign being the fins that had broken away and were sticking out on the surface 鈥� er- we all 鈥渟carpered鈥� pretty sharpish! After a while it seemed obvious it was 鈥渇airly safe鈥� where it was, No.1 was closed down and we carried on working the rest of the night shift loading from the other bays. I remember biking home thinking that someone鈥檚 got the rotten job of dealing with that bugger!! After my 鈥�24鈥� off I came back on the daylight shift to find that it was still there, the army had only just arrived, and my first job was to load as many wagons as necessary from No.1 until the bomb came into view! The bomb disposal boys had rigged a grid of scaffolding tubes to sort of 鈥渟ieve鈥� the bomb out of the coke as I loaded the wagons underneath. When it appeared, I think it was a 1000 pounder, I got the wonderfully uncomplicated order, 鈥渁lright!-clear off!!鈥�- believe me, I was GORN!! The bomb disposal team had a little catering van with them and after they鈥檇 defused the bomb they just had a cup of tea, a wad of bread and dripping and then went off to the next one! I hope they survived the war- Bloody heroes!!

Sometime before 鈥淒鈥� day we had an army regiment 鈥渓et loose鈥� on the works for one or two nights as a night time exercise. I seem to remember it was one of the Guards regiments but I can鈥檛, after all this time, be sure. They arrived about 10 o鈥檆lock one night and I remember one of the officers giving each man a half crown for his canteen supper. It was, as usual, a complete night time blackout. Unlike us, they had little idea of the layout of the place- all 305 acres ! I suppose that was the sort of situation they were going to have to face after the invasion (one of 鈥榚m might still be there!). We went about our usual work moving trucks of coal or coke about, worried about running one of them over. Every time you stepped off the footplate or walked past one of the maze of buildings and installations you鈥檇 be challenged in the darkness with 鈥淗ALT- WHO GOES THERE??鈥�, you can guess the typically British answers from us blokes used to going about our work unhindered, 鈥�*!??! OFF!!鈥�, - 鈥淥H GO AND 鈥�!?*@鈥� YOURSELF鈥�, and with typically good British humour you鈥檇 hear 鈥淧ASS FRIEND!鈥� out of the darkness. They were a great bunch of lads.

V.E Day

I was working, as usual, but as we were the only ones working that day, we sneaked out through the fence to the 鈥楩erndale鈥� pub in 鈥楲ittle Cyprus鈥� and one or two of the street parties before returning back to work.

One of the few good things that came about with the war was that every firm employing over about 20 men, had to have a canteen. Before the War we did not have one. With several hundred men and some women we at last had somewhere to eat our supper and supplement our rations- mostly with 鈥楽awdust Roll鈥� as we called it- long tins of spam.

Away from work I remember the first 鈥�1000 bomber raid鈥� on Germany when Doris and I heard so much engine noise in the sky above our house in Ilford that we went outside to see what was happening. From horizon to horizon the sky was full of aircraft- all different heights, but all flying in the same direction. It was about nine o鈥檆lock on a summers night and we knew there was 鈥渟omething big鈥� on, but we only found out later the significance. It is difficult to describe, but every area of the sky you looked at was just a mass of aircraft. Then there was the aerial mine that fluttered down on some houses a few streets away. Again a summers evening before dark, Doris and I were in the air raid shelter during a raid when we heard a very loud 鈥渟woof- swoof- swoof鈥� like a very large bed sheet flapping in the wind, I poked my head out of the shelter in time to see a part of this large white sheet thing just descending behind nearby rooftops- I didn鈥檛 want to know anymore!- I dived back into the shelter just as the mine beneath the parachute, (that鈥檚 what I had seen), exploded. A massive explosion designed to do maximum damage above ground. Again, at the time we didn鈥檛 know what it was, it was only later that the B.B.C explained that these things were being dropped. A family we knew lived in a neighbouring street were on the edge of the explosion from that mine and it blew out the dividing wall in the houses leaving the canary singing merrily away in its cage on the sideboard untouched! We all learnt that blast was a very strange and unpredictable thing!

People who haven鈥檛 slept in air raid shelters don鈥檛 know how we felt about them. The 鈥淎nderson鈥� shelter, as we had, was made of really heavy gauge corrugated iron. Partly dug into the ground and then covered with the spoil. Because they were iron they were damp, cold, and sweaty. The only light we had was from candles or a paraffin lamp which made the atmosphere even worse. You used to try to amuse yourselves as best you could to try to take your mind off the noise of the raid getting nearer and nearer, 鈥渃rump, crump!鈥�, until the huge explosions were overhead- then you breathed a sigh of relief as it passed over. Mixed in with with all this was the sound of our own guns and the shells exploding and the constant 鈥渞ain鈥� of shell and bomb splinters which came down red hot and as sharp as razors!

As I mentioned before, my wife Doris, a former Embroideress at 鈥楲iberty鈥檚鈥� in London, spent many a night alone during the bombing, and it was heart rending to leave her to go to work, but there was nothing you could do. She spent most of the time crocheting gloves for a small concern in Romford. She used to crochet and crochet and crochet until she was so tired she鈥檇 just turn over, pull the blankets over her head and go to sleep with the air raid going on outside. As I have said before, night after night she was just terrified!- but somehow she just tried to keep things as normal as possible- what a credit to her!

There鈥檚 a lot of incidents that I can鈥檛 remember any more- sometimes the odd word brings back a whole bag of memories of the time, and then, of course, at the time, as soon as the war ended we were all so relieved, we were only too pleased to forget it all.

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