Living in Bromley, Kent during the Raids

This story was submitted to the People’s War site by Liz Wells and has been added to the website on behalf of Barbara Pleon with her permission and she fully understands the site’s terms and conditions.

When war broke out I was nearly 15 years old. My grandparents had lost two sons in the First World War so I had experienced the loss and sadness that wars cause. My brother had already been called up because he was in the Territorial Army in the medical core so that left Dad, Mum, my sister and me. An Anderson shelter had already been installed in the back garden so when the air raids first started we collected two dogs, a cat and a parrot and rushed down to the shelter. The dogs soon learnt what to do when the siren went and were always first at the back door. Even the cat soon found his way up there. But, sad to say, after a few times it was decided to leave the parrot indoors.

My Dad was a baker so he was working six nights a week through all the bombing. Living in Bromley, Kent we had the barrage balloons behind us. These were the last defence for London. In front, in the distance, were our heavy guns. As the war progressed we got used to the procedure for the raids. We used to stand outside the shelter and watch the German aircraft work their way up towards us and see and hear the bombardment of our guns as they tried to bring the bombers down as they got close. We began to go more often to the shelter and to spend the whole night there as wave after wave of German bombers came. Though we still had to be alert in case incendiaries were dropped. The Germans would drop a so-called ‘bread basket’ full of incendiaries which would scatter over an area setting fire to houses, sheds etc. They did not only cause a lot of damage but they helped the Germans to find their targets. So raid or no raid these had to be put out. Us women used to tackle the smaller ones by throwing plenty of earth over them. But we never forgot that these were explosives. On one occasion, very early in the morning, my mother went out to the coalbunker to get a shovel of coal. It was still quite dark. She came in, took the top off the stove and was just about to drop the contents of the shovel into the fire when my Dad stopped her in the nick of time. There was an incendiary in the coal which had dropped through the galvanised coalbunker but had not ignited. Neighbours used to look after each other and call across the gardens to each other. Often when we could hear no aircraft we used to slip indoors to make a nice hot cup of tea. We would pass the time in the shelter telling jokes and having a singsong. All of our windows had their glass blown out so they were boarded up. But how lucky we were that the house stood through the war.

The Blitz was a horrible time and seemed to go on for a long period. I remember that we would love the bad weather because then we had no raids and could spend a lovely night in bed. For a good part of the war I worked in London at the War Office. If there were raids on I had some difficulty in getting home. My neighbour never settled till he knew I was home. I worked underground for 8 or longer hours. Then with luck I managed to travel home without any problems, have a meal, get washed and changed ready for the night raids. Day raids never seemed to last long.

Food wise I can never remember going hungry. Before the war we never ate a lot of sweet things and the meals were always good and simple. We had a very long garden where my Dad grew potatoes and vegetables and where we had pear and plum trees and plenty of fruit bushes. My Mum bottled a lot to last us through the winter and she also kept chickens. Of course we missed the meat, milk, cheese and butter. Rabbit was good if you were lucky to get one. People did not grumble. We pulled together and helped each other.

Clothes wise it was hard going. My sister and I made coats out of plaid blankets and gloves and hats out of rabbit skins and slips out of old sheets. We were always on the look out for any bits of material. The trouble was that, unlike today, people did not have a surplus of clothes before war broke out.

Such sad times when someone was killed. I remember boys I had played and walked to school with. One of my friends was only 18 when he went down with HMS Hood. Another was killed in the RAF. Some in the army. Also people were killed during the bombings. My fiancée was a dispatch rider in the Royal artillery. He had never been abroad. Before he went he managed to slip home to say goodbye. I saw him off on the train and as he was leaning out of the window and the train drew out of sight. I somehow felt that I would never see him again.

I remember the night when we saw the first doodlebug. The air raid was on but it was quiet all the neighbours were stood outside their shelters. In the distance it looked like a plane was coming down. We heard an unusual drone sound. The engine seemed to shut off and it came down. This happened to a few more and we thought our boys were bringing them down. How wrong we were. The next day we found out that these bombs were falling sort of their London target. As the days went on the Germans sorted themselves and these bombs got nearer to us and over to London. I was in Catford with my Dad when one came down. When the engine stopped we threw ourselves on the ground. My Dad, bless him, put his body over me to protect me. It came down on the opposite side of the road which fortunately happened to be a bombsite already. Except for a terrible noise in our heads we were ok. The explosion also caused terrible damage to a tram. How many people were killed I didn’t find out. The strange thing was that we were closer than the tram. Rocket bombs were the next German attack weapons. They killed a lot of people especially in Lewisham. One Thursday morning I remember how shoppers and pensioners were hit unexpectedly by one of these silent bombs. Thank God they did not last long.

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