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The London Blitz - A Fire to match most Fires
By Damien Handslip
I suppose there are not too many of us around to have borne witness to the devastation left by German Bombers in WWII.
I was old enough, just to have seen the V1 and hear its odd paraffin engined wailing sound. Worse still was to hear it stop and know it was within a minute of hitting the ground and exploding. We heard of gallant deeds by the RAF, who from above dived on these V1's and tipped one of their stubby little wings over to divert them from London and into empty fields in the south. These men were great, but not as much is heard of the men of the London Fire Brigade, who went out night after night to stem blazes and rescue men and women from bombed and ruined buildings. The Germans introduced new tactics including using Incendiary Bombs. They were usually made of phosphorous and other explosive materials. One of the shocking things about this was that the incendiary could not be put out with water, producing its own oxygen to burn. Land mines were dropped, which lay around until some car or lorry chanced to roll over it. The blast was enormous, taking whole city blocks with it. My father recalls about a night, when on rescue patrol with the Brigade, heard screaming coming from the attic of a terraced house in the City of London. On gaining access to the top floor they were confronted with an old lady who said her husband was trapped under their bed. My father grasped the old man's ankles and drew him out gently. Much to his horror that's all there was of the old boy! After a month or so of this kind of experience, Dad learnt to cope. No counselling as today, just getting on with the job in hand. When the V2 started to arrive, things improved a little. Because this ballistic missile travelled at Mach2 it would bury itself deep in the ground and therefore muffled the blast more than the V1 and was more of a vertical blast than a horizontal one. Fires continued night after night until the new radar and the RAF caused the German High Command to realise that they were being decimated and could not sustain the Blitz. London could start rebuilding, but it was many a long year that we could use the "Bomb Ruins" as playgrounds. The happiest man I knew when it all stopped was my Dad. |
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Thank you for sharing these personal memories of devastation and rebuilding. ***** stars. I have 3 uncles who served in WWII and just didn't want to talk about it, especially one other uncle who served in Iwo Jima. Thanks so much.
CONTRIBUTOR'S REPLY
Some of my fathers recollections, especially after the war, recalling dragging one of his dead colleagues out a fire in Covent Garden.
Dad was quite badly injured in the Broad Street fire, when a wall fell on him, tryng to rescue some of his men, this after he had told the Chief Fire Officer to get all the firemen out of the blazing factory.
The newspaper cuttings show Dad propped up against a wall waiting for help.
Your kind remarks act as a kind of memorial to my father's life and death struggle in his entire working life.
Your personal memories and your father's personal experiences have left deep impressions in your mind; thank you for sharing that part of history with us. Glad you and your mum were sent to Ireland for your safety.
 | | Barb Sep 17, 2010 18:17 | |
CONTRIBUTOR'S REPLY
Unfortunately it is only these grim memories that persist, blotting out a lot of the amazing memories off duty.
Thank you for sharing this touching part of history, Damien. I'm old enough to remember, but I can,t imagine the experience that you went through.
I lost one cousin in that war and had two uncles injured.
When we look back, and see that on one day, we lost 4000 American men, most people were touched by this war.
Best to you. *****
Frederick
CONTRIBUTOR'S REPLY
Thank you Frederick.
We in the UK are forever in the debt of those brave American soldiers, airmen and navy men who fought against Hitler's tyranny.
They all soon got the generic nickname of "Yanks" which has stuck to this day. God bless 'em.
Great Intel. Although I am not old enough to remember WWII, my father's family lived in the countryside about 30 miles from London. They didn't suffer like the Londoners did, but sometimes the V1's wouldn't reach as far as London and would drop short. I remember my grandfather telling me the story of one night when the family were sitting listening to the drone of the V1 engines flying overhead when the sound suddenly stopped over the house. There was coughing and spluttering noise, then silence as the flying bomb fell out of the sky. The following explosion shook the house. They all rushed outside to find that the bomb had exploded in a disused brickworks a couple of hundred yards from the house, showering debris into the back garden. Luckily there was nobody was hurt, and the only damage was some broken windows in a house a situated a little closer to the brickworks.
CONTRIBUTOR'S REPLY
Your garndfathers's recollection of the V1 are still some of the emotional memories talked about by Londoner's in the 1940's and way beyond, even to this day amongst my generation. The engine was driven on paraffin and was given varying fuel loads to reach differnt parts of the UK. When they ran out of fuel they just fell to earth on their stubby little wings, usually nose first unless they had been damaged by AA fire, Hurricane or Spitfire attack.
Accuracy was not usual, but sometimes very efective.
Good read. You forget how messed up war is and how bad people have had it.
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