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WW2 :

I was only a year old when the war started but still have many vivid pictures in my mind from the early war years, and quite clear memories from later on.

I lived near the Ford Motor Co in Dagenham and only a few miles from Hornchurch airfield.
At that time the Ford factory was producing military vehicles, so both the airfield and the factory were targeted by the German air force.
I can clearly recall being in the garden and watching 'dogfights' high above us with white contrails contrasting against the blue sky, and, as we were along the Thames estuary we saw a lot of German aircraft heading for/ returning from London.

My father, John Duff, used to work in the Ford factory on the north bank of the Thames, and spent much of his time on the roof of the factory as an aircraft spotter, sounding the alarm sirens when enemy aircraft approached. He told me that early in the war the spotters would sound the factory alarm every time they saw enemy aircraft coming up the river but later learned that if there was a mass formation of bombers they would know that the target was London and not the factory , so would keep the factory working. However, they would sound the alarm as the bombers headed back to the coast as they would sometimes drop any 'spare' bombs on the factory on their way home.

One day I saw a lone German bomber returning from a raid on London and it flew just above rooftop height following the A13 road towards Southend. We could clearly see the crew sitting inside the glass dome at the front of the aircraft.

I remember that whenever the sirens sounded during the night, we would see the landing light come on under the bedroom door, hear my mother rushing up the stairs, and my brother and I would be wrapped in blankets and whisked out of bed and taken to the Anderson shelter in the garden. Although it had a solid concrete lower half, and the corrugated curved steel roof was covered with a thick layer of soil it was a rather chilly and damp place to spend the night.
I should think a lot of those concrete bases still exist under gardens in the area.

We later often slept indoors, in a small cupboard under the stairs, (wedged in beside the gas meter), as that was believed to be the strongest part of the house.
I still find the sound of those sirens very eerie.
We would sometimes sit at the window at night during a raid and watch the searchlights scouring the sky for enemy aircraft. Once they latched on to one all the local anti-aircraft guns would open fire, very exciting for two young boys.
During daylight raids we could see the anti aircraft shells bursting as black puffs of smoke around the planes.

Once or twice we received food parcels from relatives in America. These included tins of condensed milk, which we had never seen before, but even more exciting to me were the big thick newspapers which were used to wrap the goods (our own newspapers were only one or two sheets of paper at that time). They even contained coloured comic strips and some had competitions to win bicycles - which was unbelievable !
It was around that time that all kinds of metal items were being taken to help the war effort, and even a decorative chain from the top of our front garden wall was 'collected' by the local authourities.

Later in the war I remember hearing the drone of hundreds of aircraft and, running outside we saw the sky filled in all directions with large aircraft, many towing gliders, heading in an easterly direction. I should think that was about the time of the Arnhem operation ( operation 'Market Garden').

We were evacuated once or twice (to relatives, with our mother) but always came back - I never did find out why.
On one occasion we were returning from Scotland overnight and I recall the confusion as we pulled into darkened nameless stations on our journey as no-one was ever sure where we were. All the station lights were out and the names had been removed to confuse enemy agents.
One time that we came home my father was in trouble: householders were told to keep six inches of water in the bath, to fight fires. My father had kept water in our bath for some time without changing it while we were away and it left a stain six inches up the side which lasted for years.

On Sunday mornings we would sometimes go on the bus with dad to the Albion public house at Dovers Corner in Rainham (Essex) and sit outside with a lemonade. One morning a burning fighter aircraft, a Spitfire I think, skimmed just over the pub roof and crashed into a field in Rainham Road South. Everyone left the pub and ran up the road to see the site of the crash, but there was no sign of the pilot.

At that time the buses had some kind of mesh stuck over the windows, to prevent the glass shattering, and they only had a small clear area in the middle so that passengers could see out. As children we found it difficult to see out at all without standing on the seats.

Towards the end of the war there were long convoys of American troops parked on the A13 London to Southend road, heading for Tilbury docks. I should think these were follow up troops heading for Normandy.
They seemed to be there for several days and we used to go and talk to the soldiers and were given chewing gum and sweets.

Then there were the V1's - the doodlebugs. They were extremely noisy and rather slow and everyone would rush outside when we heard one coming. They sounded like ancient tractor engines but of course as soon as the engine stopped we knew they would fall vertically and explode, so anyone in the vicinity who had been watching them had some chance of taking cover.

Not so the V2 !
One night my brother and I were being prepared for bed when there was a bright red flash followed by a huge explosion. We were quickly shoved under the kitchen table as the house shook and the windows rattled, and the glass from our front door was blown up to the top of the stairs.
A V2 rocket had landed about 300-400 yards from us, just opposite the Anglers Retreat public house on the A13, New Road.
It blew the front wall off the pub and demolished a number of cottages which were alongside the pub. It also badly damaged or destroyed several houses on the opposite side of the road to the pub, in Oval Road.

As children we were forbidden to go too close to the carnage on the following morning, but we watched the rescue operations from a distance and heard that a number of people had been killed, many of them in the pub.
My father was very lucky because the Anglers Retreat was his local, he went there nearly every night, but on that occasion he wasn't feeling well and gave it a miss.

At the end of the war I saw convoys of tanks and army lorries painted in desert colours, some with traces of sand on them, carrying very bronzed soldiers, coming back from the Middle East, and heading towards London along the A13 from Tilbury docks.

Throughout the war my parents spent a lot of time listening to ÃÛÑ¿´«Ã½ radio, especially news broadcasts. All the news that I had ever listened to was war related and when my father told me that the war was coming to an end I can very clearly remember that I sat glued to the radio every night for weeks waiting for the 'final' news broadcast.
I assumed that when the war finished, there would be no more news broadcasts.
I was expecting the newsreaders to say goodbye !

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