V1 incident

My father and I stood together in the half-light of an early dawn on a Monday in June 1944. We were in the garden standing on broken tiles and shattered glass. I don’t remember feeling particularly frightened but there was no doubt that we were under bombardment by a weapon we did not yet fully understand. What had happened, although we did not know at the time, was that a flying bomb had landed about 200yards away in the High Street. Only the tall shops and flats lining the street had saved us from greater damage.
That weekend I had been to camp with the boy scouts of the 9th Twickenham troop. If we were going to get killed it didn’t seem to matter where, so although we did not know whether to go or not we went anyway! The problem was, of course, the V1’s (jet driven pilotless flying bombs) launched from the continent and coming over in large numbers. At this time the public did not know all the facts.
On Sunday evening we broke camp, tidied up and cycled home. The scout master was delayed and as it was getting dark I decided to take the troop home myself. Our method of transport was by bike with all the heavy items in a two-wheeled trek cart hauled along by two hefty lads. In 1944 there was little road traffic so this was quite safe. We were nearly home when an unidentified aircraft with a bright light on the tail flew across our path. As there was no anti-aircraft fire I assumed it, whatever it was, was friendly so we didn’t take cover but continued on our way. The trek cart was stowed, we stood down and departed to our beds.
All that day I had a feeling something was not quite right; a premonition you might say. What that something was, was a loud bang in the early morning which woke everyone in the house: Mum, Dad, my sister Sheila and myself. Rolling out of bed and putting some clothes on we went to examine the damage. All windows in the rear of the house were broken and a large part of the glass was stuck in the opposite wall. By good fortune we were all in the front of the house, me in my bed and the other three safe in the Morrison table shelter in the front dining room.
We were all safe but the poor old house was not. Not only the windows were gone but so were most of the roof tiles. The garage next door contributed to the mess we were standing on. I don’t know what he was thinking about but by that time in the war being alive and un-injured was the only thing that really mattered. We were very defiant but getting tired of war by that time. Superficial house damage, which ours was, although it looked dreadful you took in your stride — it wasn’t the first time and although we knew we were going to win the war it probably wasn’t going to be the last!
D-day had come and gone and we had begun to realise these bombs would stop when their launching sites were overrun.
We then got the V2’s but that’s another story!
Anyway Dad and I were standing there in the very early dawn, it wasn’t cold being June but there seemed to be a lot of noise with searchlights being active. Suddenly we heard another bomb coming. Later we all got used to evaluating the sound as how quickly it increased in volume could give you a good idea which course it was flying on. The sound of this bomb increased rapidly so we knew it was coming straight toward us and then we saw it and it was. Two searchlights had found it and were keeping it in their beams. It got within a couple of miles of us before diving into the ground and exploding.
What I shall never forget was the searchlight beams following it to earth. Somehow it seemed to me then it was somewhat obscene to have done so. It wasn’t of course, just the searchlight crews some of them women members of the ATS doing there duty.
To me, however, at that moment obscene was the only word that came into my mind. The explosion that followed undoubtedly killed and destroyed and that was obscene as well!
Afterwards I discovered that the reason for no anti-aircraft firing on our visitor on the way home was that all the AA weapons had been dispatched to the South coast to enable clear arcs of firing. That in itself was a tale of gigantic efforts by the army, post office, telephones and numerous other guys. During WW2 such gigantic efforts were expected and carried out.
However, I shall never forget standing in the detritus of bombing watching that bomb coming straight towards us and thinking we are going to have a second bashing, seeing it crash and those searchlights, I shall never forget those searchlights following that bomb to earth.

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