Experiences of the Second World War - Some of them!

I was working in the Central Telegraph Office in the City and for a time some of us were billeted in London hotels — Bedford, Royal, Ambassadors, etc. — as it was not always easy to travel home, especially in the blackout when raids had started. When I did travel it was very strange getting into a pitch dark railway carriage, but everyone soon lost their English “reserve” and became very friendly and even joked on the occasions when the train halted on the bridge over the river during a raid.

Sometimes during the day one would see the bomb disposal squad rushing along in a lorry flying a red flag, taking an unexploded bomb out of the City to deal with it on waste ground.

One night at home in S.E. London my father and I were sheltering underneath our beds, as we had no Anderson or Morrison shelter, when a bomb exploded in the road badly damaging our house but fortunately we were unhurt. We had to find some accommodation: people were always so kind in such situations and let you share their homes. My mother and aunt had gone to Chistlehurst Caves for a night’s “peace”. Many people who had lost their homes were living in the caves, others travelled there every night. Everyone had a “plot” and hung up net curtains. Various facilities were available.

Then came the night that the City was bombed relentlessly. I travelled to London, and from Canon Street station to my office in St. Martins le Grand and Newgate Street I had to walk over hoses — the firemen were still attending the fires they had been fighting all night. I stood for a while unashamedly in tears as I saw my own office in flames and h ad to make a detour to the King Edward building (next to my office) where I had to work underground. Being in the Pay Section at that time we h ad to work from charred pay bills which had somehow been retrieved. It was quite awe-inspiring to see the dome of St. Pauls in the midst of ruined shops and buildings, burning fragments still falling from the shops in Ludgate Hill as we passed.

Later I rented two rooms at the top of a house, still in S.E. London. By this time I had been seconded to the Air Ministry and worked in a block of flats in Kensington which had been commandeered by the Government. The flying bombs (we called them Doodlebugs) had started, and I was having lunch with a friend in the ABC (Aerated Bread Company) in the High Street one day when I thought I heard one go over (we had not heard any warnings). I was just mentioning it when another followed and seemed to cut out overhead, whereupon everyone immediately dived under the tables. I shall never forget the noises as it fell in the road outside. I felt as if I was fading away, but soon recovered when my friend grabbed hold of me. Huge chunks of masonry were lying at the front of the shop, tables in splinters, and some people were killed. I found I could not lift my arms up, and later that day went into a local hospital and transferred the flowing day to Pembury where I was the only patient from that incident. There were with me about 200 casualties from an incident in Lewisham (S.E. London) High Street market who could not reach a shelter before the explosion. There had apparently been no warning. A young girl of 10 in the next bed to me had lost her parents as they had been at their mushroom stall in the market. Many others were badly burnt and became fearful when flying bombs flew overhead, as the hospital was situated in what was termed “Doodlebug Alley” (the route to London).

In the evenings at home I became a member of a Trailer Pump Crew, being taught how to operate it by the Fire Brigade. We had to plug in to a hydrant, run out the hose and get everything working in a few seconds. Like the Home Guard, we had to man the trailer whenever there was a warning, and one night we had about 150 incendiaries on our sector. The little church was burnt down and, whilst attempting to put out a fire at the other end of the road, I lost nearly everything when my own flat was burnt. The thing rescued from downstairs were all out on the front garden lawn when I returned. After that we moved to a commandeered house at the end of the road where we rigged up bunks in one corner of the very large coal hole below the house for our sleeping quarters!

I believe the V2’s never found my address!

I would never wish to live through those times again, but am glad to have experienced the wonderful spirit that prevailed — never a cross word, we all helped each other and could still laugh.

I would just add that if ever I hear the “Red Arrows” thunder across the sky I still want to dive for cover.

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