大象传媒

Having returned to London from evacuation in South Wales in March 1944 after the death of my father from lung disease I attended Addey & Stanhope School in New Cross SE14. The main school was still detached in Wales but a few teachers were managing to continue with a very restricted curriculum for those few pupils who had remained in London. Though the German bombing raids had gradually decreased the V1 pilotless aircraft had replaced the enemy bombers and droned overhead at a low altitude.Lessons were continually interrupted by air raid sirens or when a V1 was heard. We took shelter under desks or in the school library until the all clear sounded or we heard the explosion of the 'doodlebug' as it came to earth. Many times on the way to or from school I watched these robots as they made their way across the sky and saw them plunge to the ground, usually in a residential district, when the engine cut out. These flying bombs had no guidance systems and just flew on until their fuel was exhausted but on one occasion I watched one pass by overhead and then was horrified to see it do a complete u-turn and come back overhead. It landed somewhere between Greenwich and Lewisham.

In July, four months after returning to the family hairdressing salon now managed by my stepmother I was helping in the shop on a Saturday afternoon when the warning siren sounded. As usual my stepmother guided the customers down the stairs to the basement where we normally took shelter. Less then ten minutes later the building shook with a sound of a massive explosion. The one light bulb was immediately extinguished and we were all plunged into darkness. There were crashing noises all around and above us and the air filled with choking dust. One lady screamed and another began to cry. The rest of us held our breath and hoped that we were not trapped. We stayed like that for what seemed an eternity before my stepmother ventured up the stairs and tried to open the door. It yielded a few inches then stopped. A filter of dustladen light reached us. "Jimmy", my stepmother called. "Come and help me. The door has jammed" A woman said "Be careful" and retreated further back into the cellar. Pushing hard we managed to force the door open. The sight that met our eyes was of total destruction.The shop was a shambles, furniture and contents completely wrecked. The back wall had blown out and half the ceiling,bricks,timber and glass lay across the floor. The front of the shop had also blown out. We could see to the pavement outside littered with similar debris. A man in a warden's uniform was picking his way towards us.I shouted out. "Hey,mister! There are some people in here" "OK, son" he said. "Is there any one hurt?" I don't think so" I replied. We all were in the basement". "Good" was all he said. He came to the basement steps. "How many down there? "Six",my stepmother said. The warden called out"It's OK, you can come up now but be very careful". One by one the ladies came up,hair and clothes covered in dust and trembling with shock but otherwise unhurt. They gasped in horror at the sight before them. "The warden gave a wry smile "Consider yourselves lucky,ladies. Unless you need some medical attention I should get home quick. I must get on to try and find if anyone is trapped. I am afraid there will be a lot of casualties from this one. Most of the adjoining properties have have been badly damaged". As he spoke we could hear the wailing of ambulance and police vehicles outside. He turned towards the noise "I must go. Mind where you walk and keep away from the front of the buildings. More walls may collapse."
He vanished with a wave of the hand. We picked our way out to the pavement and gazed in disbelief at the carnage around us. At least four of the adjoining shops had received substantial damage,including the flats above. We learned later that the doodlebug had landed almost in our back yard, so the rear of the properties had taken most of the blast,but it was hard to realise that from our position at the front. New Cross railway station was adjacent to us and also suffered damage.

Rescue workers toiled for days amongst the wreckage to bring out the dead and injured. We were not allowed back to recover any of our personal belongings but eventually some items were retrieved when the unstable properties were demolished.Since the V1 struck during school summer break I went to stay with my father's sister in the Old Kent Road. Her husband was an Army dispatch rider in Italy so she was glad of my company.My stepmother stayed with her sister in Welling negotiating the rent of another property, which she found in a small parade beside the Deptford Town Hall. It had a flat above and so when it was fitted out I returned to New Cross and resumed my education at Addeys when the autumn term commenced.

At the end of November 1944 I went by tram to Lewisham to do some shopping.It was a dry,reasonably bright Saturday for the time of month and I was in quite a happy mood with my new clothes as I returned to New Cross. I alighted at the Marquis Of Granby Inn around midday and watched the tram continue into New Cross Road. I had barely taken a few steps towards my new home fifty yards away when I was picked up by a tremendous blast of hot air and flung backwards. I did not hear the explosion of the V2 rocket that landed on the Woolworths store that lay on the opposite side of the road just a few hundred yards away close to New Cross Gate railway station. For a few moments I could not comprehend what had happened until debris began to fall all around me. I could still hear nothing having been deafened by the blast. People were lying around me, some bleeding with cuts to their heads from flying glass. I managed to stand up unsteadily and then I saw the huge pall of black smoke rising from the Woolworth site. There was too much for the mind to take in, but bodies lay everywhere, some stripped of clothing. Cars were mangled wrecks,on their sides or upside down. Telephone poles lay crazily across rooftops. The tram I had been travelling in had stopped in the middle of the road. I earned later that all the passengers were found dead in their seats. My brain reeled and then I thought of the shop we had just moved into. I ran towards it, fearing the worst, but once again fate had been kind to us. The shop and others in the parade had been partially sheltered by the facade of the Town Hall which jutted further out toward the road. The shop doors and widows had stove in and external brickwork damaged but nothing beyond repair. Inside the recently equipped hairdressing salon glass lay everywhere from mirrors and shelves and cabinets. One large sliver had pierced a cubicle curtain a few inches above the head of a woman customer under a hairdryer. once again everyone was more shaken than hurt.
It was a different story a few yards on the other side of the Town Hall. Woolworths had literally disappeared,along with the Co-op and other adjacent stores.160 people,many women and children,perished that day 25th november 1944 and the tragedy is still remembered as Britain's most calamitous V2 incident. The wreckage smouldered for days afterwards, and a few months later,as I stood at the flat window gazing down at people dancing in New Cross Road celebrating the end of war in Europe, the empty site was a stark reminder of the cost of lives in the struggle for democracy and freedom.Londoners were just a small band among the millions of people that endured and sacrificed loved ones for peace and liberty,butI am proud to be one of them. Incidentally, my three brothers who served throughout the war returned home safely from their different areas of operations,though all are now at peace,and hopefully with those comrades who did not make it home. J.T.