蜜芽传媒

I finished the first part of my story with my return home to East Ham from my evacuation in Buckland, just in time for the bombing of London!

My memory of exact dates is a bit vague but I have checked up on them since and from what I now know, it was on 7th September 1940, after first concentrating their bombing on military targets such as the Radio Location Towers and Airfields, that the German鈥檚 turned their attention to bombing cities in an attempt to terrorise the civilian population.

Their major shift in policy began with the concentrated bombing (by 300 plus aircraft I am now told) of the London Docks, which started in the afternoon and continued throughout the night. I remember my Mother saying to my Aunt Polly, who was living with us, 鈥淟ook outside the shelter Polly, the whole sky is alight鈥�. This was the night when Tate and Lyle鈥檚 the sugar business was burnt out, the huge imported timer stacks set alight and warehouses along with the ribbon of industrial properties along the riverside, at Canning Town, Custom House, Silvertown and Woolwich all went up in smoke. Ships moored in the docks alongside were also hit, adding to the glow!

The local authority sent round inspectors to see which children had returned home and allocated them to the nearest school building, irrespective of which school they had previously attended. I was sent to Central Park School, but we were really corralled together rather than taught, because anything you were doing was interrupted by the wailing siren and visits to the Air Raid Shelters.

The German bombers seemed to visit day and night but on the 15th September, which was a Sunday because we were not at school, the most exciting event took place over our heads. Just like in the picture books and films, aircraft looping and diving shooting at one another, dozens and dozens of them, right overhead, with white vapour trails following them. All the people were out in their gardens, ignoring the air raid shelters to get the show of their lives and with no anti aircraft guns firing, there was no fear of shell splinters falling on you! Planes twisting out of the sky with a trail of smoke behind and some exploding in the air, but as a nine year old I did not think, or care, who鈥檚 planes they were 鈥� it was just exciting to watch.

After this, the raids during the daytime came to an end, but night raids continued. We gave up going out to the shelter because it was too cold and my sister and myself slept under the stairs for protection whilst Mum slept under the table in the dining room. We would wake up when the siren went but nod off fairly quickly afterwards, only to be woken by the whistle of the bombs falling. I can remember flinching and tightening up as the whistle got louder and louder, until you heard the thump of the explosion and sometime felt the ground shake, if the hit was near enough, then back to sleep.

On the way to school the next morning we would look out for gleaming and bright bits of shrapnel in the road, left from the previous nights anti aircraft shells. If you were particularly lucky you might find a shell timing-ring, a treasured possession amongst ones classmates at school. All this would be taken home like treasure and put in a box of some sort, only to find in a few days that the gleam had turned to rust and the trophy had lost its value!

Round about November of 1940 the authority gathered together the parents of all those children who had returned from evacuation, as the bombing was nearly every night now and suggested sending us away again. We went to a place called Marchants Hill Camp School in Surrey about 50 miles away.

The School consisted of five wooden dormitories, two for girls and three for boys, with a central dining hall, assembly hall and classrooms. It was within walking distance from the 鈥楧evil鈥檚 Punchbowl鈥� a well know landmark. The school was sited in the countryside with many acres of large open grounds. As children we gave them all sorts of nicknames, such as one where the bracken had caught light and was now all blackened, we named 鈥楧eath valley鈥�. What with our own grounds and the punchbowl this was a glorious playground for a townie like me!

We were surrounded by Canadian troops in their bases and these solders were very good to us evacuees, inviting us to their camps for treats. They would come and collect us in coaches, sit us down to a good meal, give us a film show followed by a bit of live entertainment like a conjurer or magician, returning us before bed time.

Some of us used to go out (unofficially) to their firing ranges and come back with live ammunition. We would trap the bullet between rocks and fire it with a nail hit with a stone 鈥� no thought of danger, just the excitement of the bang.
Some of the more adventurous amongst us went to the range and came back with a live mortar shell. It was shown round our dormitory with pride but when the group took it away to let it off, six boys were killed by the explosion. A real tragedy, but when you are young things like this are shrugged off easily.

One thing has stuck in my mind from Marchants Hill. Christmas Day arrived and for the special breakfast we had bacon and egg. We had not seen an egg for ages as the ration was one egg per week and any egg was used for cooking purposes. When it was served I lifted up my plate for a joke and said; 鈥淚 don鈥檛 like eggs 鈥� who wants it鈥�, and before you could say 鈥榡ack robinson鈥� it had gone 鈥� yes gone!! My egg and I was only joking. I think that taught me a lesson I have carried through life 鈥� be very careful what you joke about in case it is taken too seriously!!

Once again I returned home to East Ham, but there was not much to do. One of the few light relief鈥檚 was a visit to either Auntie Vic one of Mum鈥檚 sisters or my Uncle Tom, my Mum鈥檚 only brother. Both lived the other side of Barking. To get there was a trolley bus ride to Barking Broadway the terminus, then a walk round the corner to catch a bus the rest of the way.

Even though I was only 12 or 13 years of age Uncle Tom always treated me as an equal and usually had something interesting to show me. All other adults tended to dismiss my questions but Uncle Tom talked to me as though I was an adult. He would ask me what I though about the war and the bombing (which had more or less stopped by now) He would play games with me, usually with some sort of learning involved like number, or memory games.

He had a motorcar in the garage at the bottom of the garden which was propped up on bricks, as since the war started private-use petrol was not available. If I were careful he would let me sit inside and pretend to drive 鈥� quite a treat. I suppose what sticks in my mind is that without fail, he would give me a sixpence when we left, and sixpence in my pocket at school made me a king. Sweets were rationed but the local sweetshop in Wakefield Street sold peppermint Rennie鈥檚 (indigestion tablets) at one penny a tube and they were off ration!

The bombing had quietened down and things seemed almost back to normal, then in the middle of 1944 the doodle bugs started and one got used to something new, listening for the engine to stop, because after that, the 鈥榖ug鈥� fell to earth and exploded. Soon afterwards we had these mysterious explosions, one of which destroyed the old cinema and church in Green Street, by the junction with Plashet Grove. Nobody knew what had happened just that there was a big explosion. People said it was a gas main that had blown up, but after a week or so it emerged that it was a new German weapon the V2 rocket bomb.

The war was to end soon. In 1945 when the Victory Parade took place I was in Trafalgar Square, dressed in my Scout uniform selling programmes to the thousands of people who had come to celebrate all waving their Union Flags. Troops from every service and every country, which took part on the Allied side were represented.

There is so much more I could say in expanding what I have written but space is at a premium. I hope any reader finds my snapshot interesting!
Michael Talbot.
23.1.06.

Note:
After the war Marchants Hill Camp School became a national outdoor camp for young people and was used by the Duke of Edinburgh Award Scheme. Since 1959/60 it has been in continuous use for outdoor education of one kind or another.
The London County Council eventually purchased it and then following local government reorganisation in 1964 the newly created Inner London Education Authority assumed responsibility and it was used as a school camp.

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