Ray Hall

Memories of the Blitz

I was born in 1934, so I was 5 years old when the war started in 1939, and I was 11 when it ended in 1945. I was living in Lewisham in SE London. My wife, who I didn’t meet until 1961, was living in Liverpool in 1939, and was only 4 years old.

So, we were both in big cities at different ends of the country, which became prime targets for the German bombers, and later on in London, flying bombs and rockets as well.

I came from a large family. My parents had 8 children -- 6 girls then me, then my brother. Early in the war, I and three of my sisters were evacuated to Redhill in Surrey, which was thought to be safer than London. All three of us were billeted with different families. But whoever decided our destination probably had not worked out that Redhill was only about 10 minutes flying time from Central London!

There was quite a long period in the early months of the war when nothing much seemed to be happening, so some families started to drift back to the big cities -- much to the government’s displeasure.

The heavy bombing of the big cities started during September 1940 (“The Blitz.”) London was the main target, and was bombed for 57 consecutive nights. Raids continued after that for sometime until around May 1941 when things quietened down for a while.

During the winter of 1940, my father died aged only 47 (I was still evacuated at the time.) He had been in the army in the First World War, and had been gassed, as a result of which every winter he got a bad chest infection. The winter of 1940 was very cold and we could not heat the house at all as we could not get any coal to light even one fire (there was no domestic central heating then.)

With The Blitz going on in London, sometimes one or two of the bombers would get separated from their squadrons and we think that’s what happened when we were bombed out in Redhill. There was a heavy raid going on in London when we heard this plane coming towards us, dropping its bombs as it came. We all sheltered in the cupboard under the stairs which we had been told was the strongest part of the house. And so it was, because a bomb fell in the front garden, just a few feet from the front wall of the house, badly damaging the house and leaving a large crater in the garden. Fortunately, nobody was badly injured, but it did leave me very frightened.

As a result of the incident, my mother decided that Redhill wasn’t so safe after all, so she took me back to Lewisham, where I stayed for the rest of the war. During the bombing we mostly slept at night in our Anderson shelter at the bottom of the garden, or later on under our Morrison indoor shelter. One night there was another heavy raid with many incendiary bombs dropped. These bombs were not very big but they could start big fires. They were usually packed together in large containers, which we nicknamed ‘breadbaskets.’ On this occasion the container did not open until it was low down which resulted in our street receiving most of its cargo.

Many of the incendiary bombs fell into the back gardens on wet soil so they then simply burnt out and did no damage, but nevertheless some fell through the roofs of houses which quickly caught fire. Just behind our house and some of our neighbours was a builder’s yard, where much timber and paint was stored -- this became an inferno in no time.

Someone phoned the fire station which was only about half a mile from us to get help, but they could not come immediately because the fire station was on fire! This fire really frightened me and for some nights afterwards I had difficulty in getting to sleep.

On the 20th January 1943 occurred one of the worst school disasters, in this country, of the war. It was about 12.30 and my brother and I were on our way home for lunch, as were many other school children. All of the defensive barrage balloons were down for routine maintenance and there was no air raid warning given. Suddenly there were two German aircraft immediately overhead, which were so low we could easily see the pilots in them. The planes went on to Sandhurst Rd School just a couple of miles from us where they dropped a 1000lb bomb directly on the school. 38 children and 6 teachers were killed that day. My brother and I fled to the nearest house, opened the front door and dived under their table without being asked. The pilots must have known from the height that they were that these were children going home. This incident was another one that I found very disturbing.

By June 1944, most of the bombing had virtually stopped but then came the flying bombs -- the V1s or ‘Doodlebugs’ as they were nicknamed. These weapons started coming over in ever increasing numbers, and lasted from June 1944 to Oct/Nov of that year, when the launching sites mostly in northern France were over-run by the Allied invasion of the European continent. They carried a heavy load of high explosive, but they had no real guidance system and simply flew in straight lines until the fuel ran out, when they would crash to the ground wherever they happened to be. They made a very strange noise as they flew which was quite different to the sound of an ordinary bomber, and my brother and I could easily pick them out in the sky, always travelling along similar approach lines. We stayed in the Anderson shelter to call my mother if we saw or heard one coming. She would then come running down the garden to jump into the shelter.

You could often tell from the sound of the engine if it was about to cut out, then you knew it was going to crash, and you needed to get out of the way, and quickly! I well remember two of my older sisters became quite cocky about the flying bombs- watching them approaching and listening to the sound of their engines for any hint of cutting out. On this particular day, a bomb was coming towards us with its engine running very strongly and it sounded as if it would pass over and carry on to central London, as many did. But instead when it was nearly overhead it cut out completely. I had never seen my sisters move so fast! After that they weren’t so cocky!

The flying bombs did a dreadful amount of damage and killed a great many people, but since there was no real guidance system, they were not a strategic weapon, only a destroyer.

Then, starting about September 1944, came the V2s which were again aimed mainly at London. They were very frightening and there was no defence against them. They were rockets that travelled at over 3000mph, above the speed of sound, so you could not hear them coming. Just an almighty bang when they hit the ground. It was said that if you did hear the bang you were probably still alive!

Looking back now as an old man on my childhood years, I am left with an impression of many months and years of boredom, just waiting for things to improve, interspersed with some very frightening times, and wondering how on earth my mother managed to keep the family going with practically no money coming in.

Shared by Jon Hall, Ray's son