The one that didn't make it

As I cycled from my home in Sevenoaks, anticipating a few quiet hours fishing, I could not help wondering how my brother Charlie and sister Wendy were fairing in the home that adopted them as evacuees. It was the time that the V1's had been launched against Britain, and directed mainly towards London.
My siblings had been sent to Sidmouth, in Devon, along with a large number of children from Kent, as the 'Doodlebugs', nicknamed by the populace,were on flight paths across Kent.The V1 was in fact a flying bomb fitted with a crude ram jet engine. Once the fuel was exhausted the V1 quickly glided down, exploding on impact. Such was this indiscriminate weapon that brought anxiety to anyone that heard the engine stop. Although the many Ack Ack guns in the coastal areas had tried to destroy them, many were getting through, and a second line of defence were a great many barrage balloons, tethered on large winches, mounted on heavy trucks, manned by,the RAF Balloon Command personnel. It seemed that any piece of waste ground became occupied with such units, and it was to one I was heading for that was adjacent to a man made lake, situated between Riverhead and Dunton Green, called Longford.
I intended to make my way to the other side of the lake, to a sandbank that had yielded some nice roach in the past. Although the lake belonged to Marley Tiles I had never been challenged over my fishing. Leaving my bike against a fence a hundred yards or so from the truck, I did notice that a slip trench had been dug not too far from the winch.
Thus I made my way round the lake along a narrow, sandy track, thankful at last getting some recreation, and not having to catch an early train to London each day. I had been taken on by the BBC as a youth craftsman at the age of 15, working for a while at Tunbridge Wells,having left a Grammar School early thus not finishing a scholarship. A posting to London meant I could now stay at home and commute daily.
From the train I could see some of the devastation caused overnight by doodlebugs and their 2000lbs of high explosive, and while at work had at times seen them overhead, as our workshop was situated several floors up, with large windows, that would sometimes rattle from the noise of their ram jets. Out hearts sank when the cessation of noise meant that destruction and possibly death was about to occur not too far away, and to move away from the windows was only too prudent.
So, for a while the rudiments of fishing held my attention. If the action was slow other things in nature would catch my eye, and not be bothersome, as biology had always been a favouite of mine at school,so watching a dragonfly drying it's wings in the sun, or a water vole passing within a few inches of my foot was an added enjoyment.
On this occasion all too soon serenity was disturbed by the wail of air raid sirens, heralding the approach of more doodlebugs. I had often heard it said that it seemed at times as if they were being guided through the maze of barrage balloons.The Devil was certainly abroad these days and could have had a hand in what was being observed.
Before long came the staccato rattle of a winged bomb on it's way towards London,passing some distance away, and difficult to judge it's height. The balloon at Longford had been up for some time, as the air was very still. A quiet period ensued and I caught my first fish of the day, a nice roach of half a pound or so. While reeling the fish in, I heard the distinctive drone of another doodlebug, this time louder, approaching from my right. It came into view at a much lower altitude than normal,and at first I thought it would pass directly over Dunton Green. If the fuel failed while over the Green there would be a chance it would fall into one of the many fields beyond or into the woods on Poll Hill. It came as quite a shock when I realised that it was on a course in line with the main cable of the local balloon, and only about a quarter of a mile distant. For some reason it's altitude appeared to be even lower, and my mind seemed to go into slow motion as the balloon seemed to sag suddenly as the bomb struck the cable on the left hand wing, and with the motor still pulsating, rapidly slid down the cable.

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