My WW2 Childhood Memories Written by Ted Prangnell Introduction I Was
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My WW2 Childhood Memories Written by Ted Prangnell Introduction I was born in 1934, so in 1940 I would have been about 6 years old when the first enemy activity was recalled. I was too young to keep a diary, and whilst I do remember quite a lot, I am unable to put a positive date to all of these recollections. They are not necessarily recorded in any particular order, nor can I guarantee that they are all 100% accurate. However Kent County Council Archives have hand written reports from various local ARP Wardens on record, which put a date and time to many of the incidents that Ted recalls; which (he says) proves that he didn't make it all up! Once one gets into committing one's memories to paper, the old brain is stimulated, stirring up more and more recollections, which come to the surface - however, some of these memories are now rather vague. The same applies when one chats to people of the same age or older. A few of those memories that appear in this document may not be directly related to War activities, but hopefully will reflect what life was like for us youngsters during that period, and just after the war was over. I realise (to my surprise) that I can relate to odd incidents in that go back to when I was about 3 years old (i.e.: 1937), certainly at a time which was before Childsbridge Lane was widened, and that was before the war. We lived at 29 ("Wendy") Childsbridge Lane, Kemsing, Near Sevenoaks, Kent. We were fortunate to be one of the few homes to have the luxury of a telephone, as our telephone number, 'Seal 79', will illustrate. The telephone-exchange was in a small building by the recreation ground in Seal. There was no dialling system. One simply picked up the handset, waited for the operator to ask you for the number you required, and then she would make the connection by plugging you into her switchboard by hand. The village policeman was based in the 'Police House' at Otford, situated near the village pond. His name was Mr. Parris (Ernie). He always appeared smartly dressed, very erect, and he always looked very serious. He wore the usual policeman's uniform, but with a peaked hat, and black gaiters. He got about his patch on an upright, regulation police bicycle, which may have had a Sturmey-Archer three- speed (That detail I can't remember). Once to my horror and surprise, he caught my mother cycling down the footpath, which runs at the at the side of St Edith's well, down to the Post Office, thereby, taking a short cut from Mr Wellbeloved's, the butcher's shop. Mr Parris gave her a sharp telling off. I couldn't believe that anybody would dare tell my mother off! Later I discovered that he was really quite a nice, and fair, chap underneath his outwardly severe exterior. I was prompted to write this account of what I could remember of World War Two after a discussion with my son (Who was then 37 year old in 2001); who, during our discussion, happened to remark: "Well of course, nothing much ever happened around here". How wrong he was! Kent wasn't known as: "Hell Fire Corner" without good reason. ILLUSTRATIONS. Most of the illustrations are drawn from memory, and some of the scenes are only a rough representation of some of the dramas that took place. They are drawn with considerable artist's-licence. The proportions, and scale, are generally fairly inaccurate. I have taken some photographs of military vehicles, which were preserved vehicles on display at various shows, etc. Part of a formation of some sixty Heinkel bombers, which had just passed over Kemsing village, flying at low altitude. They came under attack as they flew overhead, when we were in the 100 acre field*, which was situated between Beechy Lees, and Childsbridge Lane. The hills in the background are supposed to be Pol Hill, and Fort Halstead; towards which, the bombers were heading. The 'cloud' (Orange coloured) in the middle of the picture, was, I believe, a Heinkel Bomber exploding. It was on fire as it crossed our field of vision, from right to left. The parachutist in the scene was the last of the three crew members that we saw bail out; Illustration showing part of a large formation of maybe a hundred enemy bombers, which had just flown low over Kemsing, and may have been heading for Biggin-Hill airfield. It came under attack immediately above us, standing in the stubble of our 100 acre cornfield in front of our home. 5 parachutes left the just before it exploded into a great ball of fire. The crew bailed out just before the aircraft exploded, and they descended, by parachute, into St. Michael's School grounds. The plane was blown to smithereens in mid air. I suppose parts of it must have come down somewhere. When we first saw the bombers approaching us, they were flying low, and heading up the valley towards Biggin Hill. The 'attack' involved hundreds of aircraft. For example: on the 15th of August 1940, no less than 500 bombers attacked Kent, and they were accompanied by 1250 fighters - which are huge numbers by today's standards. The 15th of August was a Friday, and we were returning from Russell House school (which was then situated at the bottom of 'The Chase' ~ it was a cul-du-sac then), so one can deduce from that, that, that day, must have been a working day, or for us: a school day. West Malling Airfield (which was not that far away) was attacked on the 15th, but I don't know if Biggin Hill was. The main attack on Biggin Hill was in the 18th, which was a Sunday, and yet again on the 19th (A Monday). There was another raid on Biggin Hill, by a small force of Junkers, on the 30th of August. I haven't been able to resolve this puzzle, because in August we would normally have been on holiday from school. I suppose the exact date isn't that important, and raids of one sort or another, were taking place all the time. * The 100 acre field that we knew then, is now an estate of houses, which comprises what were originally mostly council houses, with private (some self built) ones developed later. The 100 acre now has several residential roads on it, e.g. Northdown Road, Collet Road, Highfield Road, etc. Chapter 1 FIRST BOMBING RAID My father was still living at home, and I am fairly sure that he had not yet 'joined-up' at this early stage of the war. My brother and I started to realise that something was up. I remember that the front door was open. There was a bit of a commotion outside, and we saw my parents in an agitated state, and pointing skywards, with outstretched arms. It was a bright and sunny day. Two or three aircraft were flying fairly low in the distance towards Sevenoaks. They didn't look very big, nor did they look at all threatening to me. When my parents realised that we were also outside, and trying to see what the excitement was all about, they hustled us back indoors in a panic. They insisted that we should each have a cork, from a bottle, and hold it between our teeth, and then we were told to stay under the enamel-topped kitchen table (For our protection!). Well we didn't want to miss the 'fun', so we disobeyed 'orders', and followed them back out to the drive, at the front of the house. We were just in time to see the aircraft drop some bombs, they looked tiny in the distance. We heard some bangs, but they weren't very loud, and for us boys, it all seemed to be a big fuss about nothing much in particular. I realised later that the target was probably the Maidstone bound Railway line, and, or, the rail junction near Bat & Ball, Sevenoaks, or so I thought at the time. I have subsequently discovered that on one bombing raid, a bomb damaged the Gasometer situated off Cramptons Road, near Bat and Ball. That could, of course have been a different raid. AIR RAID SHELTER Quite early on in the war, possibly after the first bombing raid, there was some debate at home between my parents, whether or not, we should have an Air-Raid Shelter. My father drew up some sketch plans for an underground shelter, with steps starting to go down from inside our small 'glass'(!) conservatory. This was never proceeded with. Nor were we ever made to bite on corks again, or get under the kitchen table. We didn't have a shelter, all through the war, nor did several of our neighbours. My mother was pretty convinced that we were not going to get hit. She said that, things like that didn't happen to us - only to other people. It was her philosophy that: if a bullet has your name on it, there is nothing you are going to be able to do to stop it. However, one of our next-door neighbours bricked up their front porch of their bungalow to create a 'shelter'. Number 31(?). It was removed after the war. Access into the house, was through the leant-to conservatory, and the backdoor which was within it. GASMASKS I went with my mother to a house in a lane coming off the Pilgrim's Way, which was just east of the drive up to the house called the 'Dial'.