Doodlebugs, Air-raid shelters, Gas-masks

Wiil this do . . . ?

On 21st July 1944 I was 10 years and 8 months old. We lived at "Newbury", 37, Hemingford Road, North Cheam, Surrey a house which no longer exists having been demolished about 1960 to make way for redevelopment.

I was home from school so I presume it was the summer holiday. My mother and I were having lunch when we heard a V1 approaching. There were very common at the time and we had learned to tell when they were merely somewhere about, or when they were getting close. We both realised quickly that this one was coming our way fast, so we dived into our lounge where the Morrison shelter was. The noise of the V1 ceased but I never did hear any explosion. There was a great commotion and everywhere, indoors and outdoors, there was thick yellow smoke or dust. I had (with great presence of mind) taken my rice pudding with me to the shelter and was mortified to find it was full of bits of lead (from our leaded light windows) and glass fragments.

Gradually the smoke and dust cleared and we could see that the house was OK, but had lost many of its windows. I remember that there were lengths of curtain entangled in the trees in our road. Neighbours were out and about checking on themselves and each other, and we could see that a house at the end of the road was rubble. The rescue squads were soon on the scene and in action.

My mother used a neighbour's telephone to speak to my father at work in Epsom, and he got permission to leave work and came home.

Later on a lorry appeared and the men in it enquired of my father for a certain name and address of a house allegedly unoccupied which we did not know, and said that they had come to remove the furniture. He quickly deduced that this was a ruse, that in the confusion someone might say "Oh, you must mean so-and-so" and would direct them somewhere, the furniture would be removed, and would never be seen again. Opportunist looters in fact. Father said that there was no such address and advised them to remove themselves as quickly as possible, which they did. That evening I asked him what could be done about this sort of thing ? He said that the police were far too busy with all the V1's dropping, and if it got worse we might have to form vigilante patrols. That was the first time I ever heard that word. He went on to say that he had been on such work before (he was a white collar City of London worker) and that they had gone about in pairs armed with pickaxe handles. On reflection I think that this must have been at the time of the General Strike in 1926.

The story which circulated about the bombing was that a family at the end of the road (not known to me) had had a wedding. After the ceremony the party went to the "Queen Victoria" hotel at the crossroads of Malden Road and London Road in North Cheam, and that after a time some people said that they would go home and put the kettle on, and that by the time the rest followed tea would be ready. They did this, the V1 fell, the tea makers were killed, and the party came home to find the house a ruin

I presume therefore, that the tea makers were the Mr and Mrs Bennetts shown in the CWGC records under "Civilian Casualties".

My only puzzle is that on the modern Google Street View the house which was destroyed seems to be numbered in the 340s, whereas the house number in the record is 338, which Google shows as further to the northwest. It may be that there has been new building and the houses have all been renumbered.

The house demolished stood on the northwest corner of Malden Road and D'Arcy Road, but I think that the house on the opposite corner to the southeast was also badly knocked about. My memory of this is confirmed by a map cut out of a newspaper and pasted in a scrapbook by one of my parents.

We lived for many months afterwards with most of our window frames sealed against the weather with black roofing felt. Two or three lights were covered in a sort of oiled white cotton so that light filtered in. I think this continued well into 1945 until it was replaced with plain glass, and then some time after that the plain glass went and we reverted to the leaded lights of old. And I think that some of this work was done by Canadian troops. This was a strange period (the latter part of 1944 and the early months of 1945) because on the one hand there was a tendency to say "Oh, the blooming war's nearly over now, so why can't they get on with the war damage repairs ?" whilst on the other, we were digesting (or trying to) the news and the pictures coming through of the terrible scenes at the Belsen prisoner of war camp, and I think everyone was pretty confused and tired by this time - and at the back of it all we knew that the Far East business was far from over. So it was that when the atomic bombs were dropped, and Japan surrendered (though not immediately) the general feeling round our way was "good thing too, serve 'em right !". Only later, when the memories of only a few short months before began to fade, did the opposite opinion begin to be voiced and to gain ground.

I was born in The Battle of Britain. We were living in Salford, close to Manchester dock which were an obvious target, so my mother found us a holiday cottage in the village of Tottington, near Bury, which had been requisitioned by the local authority. We had a very enjoyable few years there (so I am told) and then, ironically, we were bombed out. The rumour was that all German bombers had to get rid of all their load, so they just dropped their last one on this country village on their way back from Manchester. 13 people died - ours was the last one standing. I can remember sitting in an armchair and feeling silky stuff all over me - I was covered in soot from the open chimney. If the bomb had been dropped a few seconds later, all my family would have been killed. We were taken to the local squire's house, which was being used as a rest centre, and we had to 'do a turn' to keep ourselves amused. My sister tells me that I was first up, singing a Bing Crosby song - she hid under the table. That sums up our personalities pretty well!
We were moved to another holiday cottage in the neighbouring village of Hawkshaw, and on VE day, 1945, I won a game at the street party for knowing who ran up the clock. Toys were virtually unavailable during the war, so this was very memorable.
My father was in the RAF - he enlisted as he was too old to be conscripted. My mother always said he just did it to get away from domestic responsibilities. He had a very cushy war, working on aircraft repair at Coningsby,Lincolnshire I remember the excitement when he came on leave, because he saved all his chocolate ration, and he also made doll's furniture for my sister and me, using scraps of metal from the damaged planes.
However, he was a very selfish man and even though he was offered a job locally and my mother and all four children desperately wanted to stay in that lovely area, he insisted on going back to Salford to be near his brother and sisters. We moved back on my fifth birthday, to a horrible beetle-and-mice infested house in a back street.
I have always hated Salford and was so happy when we moved to a brand new council house on an 'overspill' estate at Little Hulton when I was 13.
My mother's younger brother was lost in action - he was in the merchant navy escorting Atlantic convoys (their contribution has never been properly recognised) but otherwise she always said they were the happiest years of her life.

And if you blew hard while wearing one you cold make a very rude noise as the air escaped at the sides - such fun!

I remember my Gran had all the family's gas masks, including my baby one, in a cupboard for years after the war. I remember being allowed to play with them occasionally and I also remember the funny rubbery smell emanating from the masks. If memory serves me they were all handed in sometime around 1950.

We were bombed out of our Highgate flat - the Anderson shelter was, as they tended to be, ankle deep in water, so we were sleeping under the dining room table... I have a sharp visual memory of being wheeled down the front path as we left, and I can still see the shards of stained glass from the front door on the black and white tiled path...

Later, with my parents, we were walking when a V1 went bumbling overhead - my feet didn't touch as they ran with me to a nearby shelter - by the time we reached it, the V1 had just missed the TV tower at Alexandra Palace.

I was seven when the war in Europe ended. I remember being amazed that next day there was still a news programme on the wireless - as up till then it had all been about war I thought The News would end when it finished!

The second bit was the Japan bit that dragged on until they used those awful bombs.

Can't believe I'm posting on an oldie borum thread.

Born in 1946!

What, the Boer war?

Oh I see wot, you mean the war in europe and north africa. gotcha.

I remember the Falklands war.....

Far too young, like me!

Born in 1958 !

VE day. A few months before VJ day when it ended completely.

Yes come on what first bit wot - the first bit of WW2 ended when Brits retreated from Dunkirk tails between legs didn't it? Then there was the middle bit starring Bomber Command while all the soldiers sat around twiddling things and practicing and then the last bit starring the Yanks and featuring D Day.
(Hope you like my succinct history of WW2)

DH kept the canvas bag that his gas mask was carried in. DS used it as a schoolbag for a while (and ruined it with rock band graffiti)

Annobel Yes it was an Anderson shelter, not a Morrison shelter. what was I thinking of.

I am 74 (prewar model - built to last) I don't have many war memories. there was a communal air-raid shelter near our house, and I am told I was in it a few times, but I don't remember.

We has a Morrison shelter in our back garden. made of curved sheets of corrugated iron built over a low brick wall, the whole thing about 6 feet by 5, sunk 2 or 3 feet into the earth, and steps down to the entrance. Inside a bench along each side, and earth piled over the roof to absorb impact. Each house in the street had its own shelter. I have no memories of sheltering in it.

We all had gas masks, and took them to school. I am told that when I was a baby and the gas masks were being issued, there were none for infants. My mother was told that in the event of a gas attack, the best defence for me was to whip off my wet nappy and hold it over my face, so that the ammonia would neutralise the gas. She was indignant -not least because of the assumption that a child of hers would be wearing a soaking nappy stinking of ammonia.

When the infant gas masks did appear, they were cardboard boxes with lids, like coffins, large enough to put the whole baby in. There was a window in the top and a concertina hosepipe attached to a hole at one end. A pump was attached to the pipe, and someone had to pump air in continuously so that the baby did not suffocate. Mum now thought that the wet nappy would have been a better idea.

First bit? Do you mean WWW1?

I was three when they won that first bit.

My MIL is 80 this year and she remember the war starting. She was about 7 at the time. I think we might have a few members in that age group? Do we ?

There was an Anderson shelter in my granny's back garden which we used to play in after the war. I was born in 1940, so don't remember much about the war. I had a Mickey Mouse gas mask which I never needed to use. My dad was in a reserved occupation as were most of my friends' dads - there was a huge explosives factory nearby. The Germans did try to bomb it, but it was built on sand dunes and the bombs fell harmlessly. The air raid siren had a practice on Saturday afternoons when my dad would sit with me and read me stories. He was the captain of the local Home Guard and I was proud to see him marching at the head of his squad on VE Day.

I'm 67! I can't remember the war. A
Though I do remember an air raid shelter in my nans garden!

How old do you think some of us are????????????????????????????

Actually I can remember a gas mask knocking about our house.

Just the one.

"Doodlebugs, Air-raid shelters, Gas-masks".

Somebody enlighten 'em.