Essay 5 of 7 - Respite, then Doodlebugs

Reminiscences from the period of WW2.
A collection of seven essays.

Author - Brian E. Dowden - born 8th. October 1933.

Introduction

Both during and after the war I lived on an estate built by the (then) London County Council in Carshalton, Surrey. I was thus some 10 to 15 miles away from the London areas that suffered worst in the blitz, but yet close enough to be affected by the war on a day-to-day basis. Noted below are my recollections of the period.

Essay 5 of 7 - Respite, then Doodlebugs.

Strangely perhaps, by 1943 we children were allowed to roam the streets after dark and to visit a local cinema when it could be afforded. There was no known fear on our parents part of a child being molested despite the lack of street lighting and the’black-out’ of all premises. Thus I saw films such as Noel Coward’s ‘In which we serve’, recording the exploits of Lord Louis Mountbatten in H.M.S. Kelly, and also various U.S.A. war-film productions. The U.S.A. productions, in total, showed us how John Wayne was winning the war almost on his own, with only minor assistance from elsewhere. As was said at the time, where was John Wayne in 1940? I particularly recall being in the County Cinema in Sutton High street on the evening that Italy surrendered. The projectionist obtained the news during the showing of the main film and, between reels, projected onto the screen a short message such as ‘Italy has surrendered’. The cinema audience cheered and cheered and I doubt if anyone had any interest in the remainder of the film so wonderfully interrupted. Sadly young people like me did not realise that the Italian surrender would not change German war tactics in a peninsular ideal for military defence.

As 1943 gave way to 1944 there appeared to be relative normality on the home front. In practice our nights were still disturbed by the drone of bombers, but now they were ours, and the feeling was one of joy in knowing that Germany was now receiving the same medicine that she had given us earlier in the war. However as children we were not aware of the extent of our bomber losses. Food shortages were apparently overcome by the copious use of vegetables and by (to us) newly invented delights such as carrot cake. Money was in short supply, but then I had never known matters to be any different. The reason for mentioning money is that in early 1944 a begging scheme became popular in my area. We children would acquire a few stones, broken lumps of concrete, some earth and a few flower heads. These items would taken to a local bus stop and then be put together in the form of a rock garden. The one, two, or three children concerned would then ask those waiting for or alighting from a bus, for a penny for the grotto. The few pennies collected were more than welcome. Now a few doors away from our house at this time lived a widow and her only child, an 18-19 years-old son named Leslie. In (probably) early May 1944 I had a grotto at a nearby bus stop and Leslie, returning from leave back to his army unit, gave me a half-crown piece as he boarded the bus. The sum was a fortune to me, and probably at least a day’s pay to Leslie. The leave in question was that prior to the D-Day landings and shortly afterwards I was told that Leslie had been killed in Normandy. Clearly I never saw Leslie again, and I believe that I was the last person in our road to see him alive. From that time until today I remain touched by Leslie’s generosity, saddened by the death of one so young, and of the consequences to his widowed mother.

After the D-Day landings a high pitched pulsating noise was heard in the sky. Germany had started the V1 Flying Bomb or (as we called them) the Doodle-Bug offensive. The doodle-bugs were high explosive bombs each fitted with a rudimentary jet engine and aerofoil surfaces. Taking wind etc. into account, they took to the air from a ramp that pointed towards London and they had enough, but only enough, fuel to reach their intended destination. Once launched there were no feedback mechanisms to keep them on track and hence they landed, at random as it were, at any point in the London area. Many thousands of doodle-bugs were launched, and although R.A.F. fighter pilots shot or literally tilted many of them out of the sky before they reached their target area, most reached their destination. Now the doodle-bugs in 1944 differed from the bombs of 1940-41 in one very important way. In 1940-41 when you heard the whistling of a falling bomb, it might have had your name on it. In 1944, as long as you heard a doodle-bug engine working you felt safe. The awful moment occurred when the engine noise ceased, the question was then, “Who will cop it in the next 30 seconds or so?”. Of course if the doodle-bug had passed overhead or was well to one side at the instant of engine cut-out then you were safe, but what if not? Well during one bright summer morning I was alone at home when a doodle-bug approached and its engine cut out. I went rapidly to the Anderson shelter and hung with my fingers over the shelter entrance and feet dangling inside, but with my head firmly outside following the path of the bomb. As it glided over The Wrythe towards Rosehill I was convinced that it was aiming directly for my bedroom window. However it was visibly caught in an up-draught and in practice it landed at the top end of Robertbridge Road (about 1km away) where several houses were destroyed and, I believe, one or two people were killed. Of course it is possible, if not indeed probable, that without the updraught I would have been safe. But I heard the swish of that bomb as it flew overhead and it was an experience in sheer terror that I will never forget.

In 1940-41 most bombing was at night and hence its effect on schooling in my area was minimal. However the 1944 doodle-bugs were launched at any hour and hence, for a time, schooling came virtually to a standstill. A typical day would comprise: 9-00a.m., arrive at school; 9-30a.m., air raid warning is heard and consequent rapid movement to the air raid shelters; 9-45a.m., the sound of a doodle-bug is heard, and not infrequently the sound got louder over the next minute or so hence much tension in the shelter; 9-46a.m., doodle-bug engine noise begins to fade away hence reduction in tension; or, doodle-bug engine cuts out, then very significant increase in tension until (fortunately for us) a distant explosion is heard; 9-47a.m., (thinks) is there a following one with our name on it? An ‘all-clear’ siren at, say, 11-00a.m. would be followed by the release of children onto the school playing field (but near to the air raid shelters). This would be followed by a repeat of the above starting at (say) 11-30a.m. and perhaps again later in the afternoon. Initially an attempt was made to continue lessons in the shelter, but no useful work was possible and hence we took turns in reading out loud to other class members from a range of Richmal Crompton’s ‘Just William’ books. Further to the above, teachers had to take registers each time we entered the shelters, and any missing child then had to be accounted for in some way if possible. The shelters had no toilets -- only a bucket with minimum privacy for all concerned -- and fear of imminent death has a dramatic effect on the bowels -- and finally I do not recall any form of ‘mains fed’ electric lighting.

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