General Chat

Hi Les,

We lost one of our relatives from the stone mason's family - Phyllis Woodford, she was driving ambulances in Bristol and was killed. I did find the details once but can't remember how.

Hope you are ok

Will give you a call next week, hope you enjoyed your outings

Lizxxx

My Mum and Dad met as a result of war.

Mum lived in Southampton and weathered the Blitz. When she joined the WAAF at 18, she was posted to Gloucester and was billeted for a time with my Gran (Dad's mum). Dad was in the Royal Artillery and went over to France about the end of June 1944. They married in 1946.

Mum lost at least one friend in the Blitz and 2 cousins during the war. She's 93 now and can recall those days vividly.

Dad was in restricted employment, and was based in our home town, Oldham in Lancashire, though he apparently spent 6 months "training" at a factory in or near London at the beginning of the war.

I can remember a bomb falling near our house ........... I've since discovered it was Christmas Eve 1944, so I must have been almost 5 (born 1940). My Mum's parents lived across the street, and they used to come to our house when the sirens went (as they did relatively often) because we had a basement, and everyone could sit on the basement stairs which were deemed 'safe". Dad was an ARP Warden I have discovered recently, which is why I have no memory of him being there on this night!

The bomb fell less than half-a-mile away, and I remember looking out the window next morning and seeing the street, sidewalk and cobbles alike, literally covered with broken glass, and my grandparents little fox terrier picking its way across the street from their house.

Every house around the neighbourhood had lost their windows except for us ........... Dad had been told by his landlady when he was down in London to open the catch as soon as the siren went, that allowed the window to move in the frame.

The little dog had jumped out of a bay window in to the glass-covered back yard, picked its way through that, the back gate had been blown open so he had then picked his way across the street ........... and he didn't have even one tiny scratch on his paws!!


They found an unexploded bomb near a school in Oldham about 10 years ago ........ we were on the "route" to Manchester and Liverpool.

Apparently it was January 1941 and I was three yrs old in Birkenhead. I recall in my mother's arms and she was running. I was wearing my blue siren suit and my green gressing gown with shiny lapels on top and on top of that my Daddy's blue checked dressing gown. The noise and the sky was bright red all over.

In the shelter, every time a bomb dropped the curtain on the door blew up to the ceiling and Filly our neighbour had a green coat and a baby on her shoulder was sick over her shoulder and down her back.

I was about 20 yrs when Filly came to stay with my mother for a few days and their chat was about old neighbours, I repeated to Filly about her coat and baby - my darling narcisstic mother - 'don't listen to her, she has a vivid imagination'. However she had to shut up when Filly said that that was my new coat and I never got the smell of Cecilia's vomit out of it (she was 3 months old apparently).

None of the 28 houses were habitable and I can recall with a policeman or a warden standing in the hall at the living room door -

there was a hole in the roof and half the outer wall had gone and I wanted my Mickey Mouse skittle which was in the garden. I was told there would be germs on it. My mother picked up her brass candle sticks and her bag with all the 'papers' in it which she had dropped. Apparently there was a large kerbing stone in my bed.

I was born in 1940 so have very little memory of the war. We lived in Fareham Hampshire close to HMS collingwood. We moved ourselves to Purbrook in about 1942 and I do remember living there, I also remember when we returned home to Fareham in 1944 because our bungalow needed securing. A bomb had fallen nearby and blown all the windows out and I remember my cot there was full of glass. I also remember what I heard, and what I thought, about the man who had been renting our bungalow. I heard 'mr ..... was seen running down the road holding his head in his hands'. For years I remembered that literally.

I remember going to the shelter, the sound of the air raid warnings and the all clear, I remember my micky mouse gas mask, I remember going to the British restaurant for lunch and, strangely I remember that it smelled of cabbage.

We were lucky, we knew of nobody in our family circle or among our friends who were killed or even hurt in the raids, even though my parents families lived in Portsmouth which suffered raids.

My Father was in the RN, he was a writer and spent the war in various land bases around Portsmouth.

Thanks for the poem Les, very evocative. :-) :-)

We lived in Charlton South East London.my dad worked at the Woolwich Arsenal where he had worked from aged 14 . He was born in 1907

At aged two years 5 months I went to school for two weeks with my elder brother and sister so we could all be evacuated together .we went to Tunbridge Wells in Kent .

When Kent got increasing bombed we went back home to wait to be re evacuated.

We were at home when a bomb was dropped on charlton station one sat just after a train had left the station believe it was June 1944
I remember the air raid siren going and us kids were sent indoors from playing in the street
Mum was hearth stoning the front steps and she was intent on finishing the job

I decided I needed the loo and went to the outside lavvy ,the railway lines ran along the back gardens with a wood yard in between . There was a Big Bang and the wooden loo door swung open violently. The house windows blew out so there was glass everywhere . My big sister worried about me and put on dads slippers and rang round to the loo ,she got cut feet from the glass. I was ok was still sitting on the loo which was one of those with complete across the width wooden seat ones

My mum had completed her cleaning and was coming in the house .she was at the top of the stairs leading down to the kitchen when the blast threw her down the stairs and back up again.
The kitchen door blew off its hinges and fell in. It had about 8 small glass panels at the top and as it fell it went over the baby sitting on the floor and one panel broke over the top of the baby and she was left sitting in the broken door
She never even got a scratch

I was eventually sent to Birmingham and didn't come back home till jan 1946 . My youngest brother was born in sept 1945 so I didn't meet him till he was 4 months old

Thank you for sharing your poem, Leslie.

My Dad & his parents lived on the Isle of Dogs, Poplar (London) where they owned a dairy. That was bombed during the blitz. As Dad was interested in photography, he took some snaps which have survived.

Mum lived in N London. Although she was too traumatised to tell much about her experiences, she did let slip that she was sexually assaulted during a raid. She was trying to make her way home in the dark but was grabbed & pulled into a doorway. No one heard her cries for help. There's always some low-life who takes advantage of a situation.

Leslie briefly touches on Shrapnel. What goes up must come down. Falling shrapnel was just as dangerous as the bombs. Mum hated Guy Fawkes night as the rockets & bangs brought back bad memories.

With the distance of time, we tend to focus on the community spirit but forget that so many civilians lived in a constant state of fear.

My mother was in the ATS see my picture and was rewiring damaged tanks. My father was making parts for spitfires. He told me about trying to get the 14 miles home in the blackout with shrapnel pinging around him when on the late shift. There were deaths at his factory as the Germans tried repeatedly to bomb it. There were antiaircraft guns to defend the factory and Martin Shaw's grandfather was part of the team on those guns - a WDYTYA fact.

My OH's family lived in London and there were deaths from the bombing amongst them. His father served abroad. I have found there were civvy deaths in my family who were in Birmingham - the bombing of B'ham was kept quiet so not to lower morale

Terrible time to go through, for those born later we can only imagine what it was like. Les helps bring it alive for us.

My parents met when mum went home on leave just after the war ended. :-D

:-)

Chrisinsussex---Your Dad was born same year as me..I was born in Catford Nursing Home at Rushey Green...Mum was 36 when I came along and I was oldest of 4...Dad worked for the Air ministry in London ..Due to him being posted to the Midlands in 1938 I finished up having 6 schools between 5 and 14..Never had an exam...Where did your folks come from??? <3 <3 LES..

Dad born 1931 was evacuated to Devon at the start of WW2 and absolutely loved his stay there.

He won a scholarship to the local Grammar School and the same year my Grandmother decided she wanted him home :-(

Dad spent the rest of the war years dodging bombs in the London Blitz and receiving limited education.

Chris

I have heard awful tales from my late Dad who was a fireman in the London Blitz.

My grandad was 4 when WW2 started and he was living in a village in rural Hertfordshire. There was a POW camp in the village and he used to chat to the German soldiers in the camp.

The woman who ran the local sweet shop took a shine to him so he always got more than the standard sweet ration.

I've got a few civilian casualties in my family tree, including a couple killed by a V2 rocket and a family of five, mum, dad and three daughters, killed in an air raid shelter in the basement of the Dame Alice Owen school in Islington.
:-(

Brings back memories as an 8 year old in Edinburgh.

The sirens wail,
Their rising and falling tones
Disturbing the peace,
Finally descending into a long fading hum.
Up high,unseen through the darkness,
The throbbing beat of engines
Pierce the night..
Hundreds of them passing by
In a never ending parade.
Now,, the thump,thump, thump
Of anti-aircraft guns
Shooting at an unseen enemy above.
The whistling,screaming sounds
Of the falling bombs
Fill already ringing ears.
The ground rocks as bombs explode,
Disintegrating buildings
And killing all forms of life
Into piles of useless rubble.
Wardens whistles blow,people shout,
Fire engine bells ringing out,
Going on for hour after hour.
Then, slowly, the noise begins to fade,
The sirens wail again,
This time the long monotonous tone
Of the all clear.
What now?? Clear up what we can
Ready for the same again tomorrow.
How can we do that??
There's not much left..
Oh well!!! No school for a few days..
Lets collect shrapnel
And play soldiers instead...
The sirens wail,
Oh-- not again,,back to the shelter...

Les Glenister..2013...
I lived in S E London all through the war and saw some horrible things..
Exciting bits were when we had to play casualties for ARP practices..If you had a broken arm or leg or something serious you got to ride in the ambulance..WOW..Bells ringing..No "Blues and Two's " those days...
Memories eh???/ LES...