- Contributed byÌý
- Jean Purchase
- Article ID:Ìý
- A1125767
- Contributed on:Ìý
- 29 July 2003
I was 16 when war broke out and had just started work in the civil service. I volunteered for civil defence work, and was sent to Lewisham in South London to work in the centre receiving telephone calls of air raids.
I was then without a home as my family had dispersed. My father had had a breakdown and went to Wales, my mother took my young sister to the Midlands and my three brothers were at war. I stayed with a friend in New Cross for a few weeks where we endured the awful nightly air raids, spending nights in a dugout and working during the day.
I was transferred to Cornwall House Waterloo, still involved in civil defence, then on to the ÃÛÑ¿´«Ã½ Office in Whitehall, opposite the Cenotaph in those days. Our world was in the basement where the home security communiqué was prepared for the ÃÛÑ¿´«Ã½ nightly broadcast.
Following that job I had a very interesting job where I received teleprinter messages from fighter command Stanmore regarding the activity of enemy air raids. I had to place coloured discs on a map showing where enemy aircraft were approaching. The personnel in charge could come in and at a glance see where the bombing was and which areas where being targeted. It was an exciting job, and one evening Winston Churchill visited -but unluckily I was off duty that evening. However, I was on duty the evening the City was on fire and Whitehall was a blaze of red. The policeman on duty said the pavement was so hot you could fry an egg on it!
Meanwhile, I had been moving from lodgings to lodgings because they were all temporary. It was most unsettling, mostly because at 16 my father dictated at what time I should be in at night... even from afar. I eventually ended up in a small room in Warwick Square Victoria that took most of my salary. I did not meet any of the other inhabitants except during an air raid, when we would be thrown together in the basement. I often thought I would die among strangers.
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