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It was probably one of the worst times of my life — that terrible evening in September 1943. We had already had two air raids during the day and my friends and I had rushed to the street shelters opposite my house. We waited for the all clear to sound so that we could once again carry on playing in the street outside. There were nine of us — five boys and four girls. We had been friends for all of our young lives - going to the same school together, meeting up in the mornings to walk to school in a bunch, waiting for each other to come home again in the evenings, playing at break times and after school in the street outside our houses - until that fateful night.

We had all said goodnight to each other and made our way home preparing to spend the night in the street shelters in the area where we lived. Four of us, two boys and two girls, in our shelter across the road and the other five, three boys and two girls, in the shelter built in the middle of the flats where they lived, just fifty yards away from us. Sure enough, the sirens sounded and the bombing began again. We thought that we were lucky as we could hear the bombs in the distance. They were bombing the City of London again, about 600 yards away from where we lived. Suddenly it seemed to go quiet and we settled down to try to get some sleep but at about 10o’clock that night came the loudest explosion I had ever heard. Our street shelter was rocking, kids and mothers started to cry in fear, the dads rushed out to find out what had happened. After a little while one of the neighbours came back in and called for quiet. He then talked to the women and older boys and girls, including us, saying that all of them were needed to help the fire brigade and rescue men along the road at the flats. An air mine had exploded on top of the shelters completely destroying the three shelters and people were trapped in all of them. Practically every flat in the two blocks was destroyed and the rubble had fallen on top of the shelters.

So began the nightmare…… Men, women and children worked throughout the night moving bricks, concrete and charred wood with bare hands to get to the shelters. It was about 11o’clock in the morning before the shelters were uncovered and then the major task began. Rescue workers, including my dad, had to crawl through holes in the roofs and walls to get to the people inside and pass them out to waiting doctors and ambulances. Only ten people survived out of two hundred. My five friends were among the dead. We were completely shocked, crying inconsolably in our mothers’ dusty and blackened arms. It took us weeks to come to terms with it but we never forgot them. We regularly visited their graves and said prayers over them. It was only then that we knew the true horrors of that war.

Rest in peace — MICHAEL, DAVE, PETER, VIOLET and ANNE — all aged 13 years.
We will always remember you with love and affection.