Kemsing under fire

2nd. November 2017.

A new booklet entitled "Kemsing under fire" has been produced by the Kemsing Heritage Centre, which is worth reading.

    In my account of WW2 memories I refer to a soldier being killed whilst he was trying to defuse an unexploded bomb that had landed in the garden of a large property called "Flaneswood" on Seal Chart (not Kemsing), near Stone Street.  From information provided by one Doug Parry, this tragic event did indeed happen (on the 22nd. October 1940), and after some research a name can be put to that Brave British Officer, he was 51 year old 2nd. Lieutenant Frank Martin, of the Royal Engineers, (already recipient of the George Cross for bravery).

     All of which confirms that my memory was correct, but it also tells me that I was 6 years old at that time.

     Another thought:  from Childsbridge Lane, Kemsing; it is a long walk to 'Flaneswood' for a 6 year old (and back home again).

     

     

    

         Ted Prangnell

I have some feedback from a lady who claims that her dad was stationed at one of the Balloon Sites I had mentioned in my blog.  This prompted me to look on the internet for more information on Barrage Balloons, and there  is plenty to find there. 
   Just by chance I found some old photographs and in among them was a picture of a Barrage-balloon winching vehicle.

That winch vehicle looks very much like "ours", but I can't remember where I took this picture, obviously in a museum somewhere.

Austin 10 Tilly

  A "Tilly"

Recap on Chapter 2

Refering to the incident when the the Homeguard (?) came looking for the parachutists who we had seen bale out of a Hinkel bomber arrived where we were standing in a small army truck, which I have just discovered was called a ‘Tilly’, which is short for a ‘utility vehicle’.  

   The 'Tilly' I saw came upthe lane and stopped, there were four of five home guard soldiers sitting the back, one of them held a Lee-Enfield rifle.  They asked us if we had seen any parachutists,
    We told them that we had, and that they had come down into the grounds of St. Michael's School, and they puttled off to, presumably, go and round them up.
    The vehicle was very probably an Austin 10 light truck similar to one pictured illustrated below (borrowed from the WW Webb). 

                            

If I remember correctly the 'soldiers' sat on the floor facing each other, with their elbows resting on the tailboard.  I think they were wearing their tin-helmets.

06.10.2016

Were we frightened?

Were we frightened

My 9 year old grandson asked a few questions about the war,one of which was:- "Weren't you frightened?"

Well yes we were sometimes, but mostly at night.

The sky is a big place and generally enemy aircraft had to be directly over head, or making a line so that it would pass directly above us for it to have a chance to drop a bomb on us.  

But at night it was a different story.   We were bothered by the distinctive sound of German bombers, Ack Ack fire, the screaming sirens of bombs as they fell, and explosions.  During the blitz that went on for at least 57 nights in succession. Even today l still find the sound of propeller-driven aircraft disturbing.  
      During the day the doodlebugs were generally not much of a threat as long as their heading was not directly towards us.  If there were then the engine could stop abruptly, and we waited 5 to 7 seconds before it hit the ground and exploded.  They didn't always go straight down. They did a lot of damage.  At night lying in bed you didn't know exactly where they were in the night sky, unless you got out of bed and one could see the flame from the engine exhaust.  We hid our heads under our pillows trying to wipe out the sounds.  
       Don't for that we had eleven doodle-bugs fall in our village.  9000 were launched against the South East.

   The V2 rockets were something else.  We couldn't see them coming.  That wasn't fair!  They made on Hell of a big bang and a huge crater.  We were relieved when that threat was no more; but we still went to school on our bikes every day.   


      

Rolls Royce shooting brake?

When I was at Sevenoaks Prep school , possibly just after the was over, in this account I made reference to a visit we had from that great character:- Captain Knight, with is pet eagle. He arrived in a Rolls Royce shooting brake (where did he manage to get the fuel from?), it looked very much like the Roller that was Pictured in this advertisement which has been extracted in the 'Octane' car magazine.

My thanks to the Octane magazine.

Bomb Alley

Bomb Alley

Overlooking the West end of Kemsing from the spot where I watched the Spitfire crash land into the field on the right side of this picture.  This picture is dated about 1958, when little had changed since the war ended, and the motorway (M26) had not been built.   The railway line (Maidstone - Otford) can be clearly seen; also one can pick out the path of Childsbridge Lane.

Picture supplied by the wife of the late Klaus von Wagner who took the picture. 

Ed Thompson has kindly furnished me with this picture (taken by John Sharp) of the site of a V1 explosion just off Childsbridge Lane,  Kemsing.

I remember it well:-

The bomb went off during the night (on a date not known), and even though we lived some distance away in (upper) Childsbridge Lane (Above the West End) our plaster ceilings were brought down, and our house incurred other damage.   Damage to houses in lower park of the lane, and along Dynes Road was extensive.    

Ed Thomson asked me where the crater was, well I think you can make out a shallow dip in the middle of the picture, and that is all there was.    The V1 may have hit trees and exploded a split -second before it hit the ground thereby allowing the blast to spread out widely and doing a lot of damage.  A V2 rocket on the other hand, made a deep crater, and much of the blast was lost to excavating out the hole, and a lot was deflected upwards.   So the spread of blast may not have been less.

The lane was so covered in debris that it was hidden.  I remember someone picking up part of the telephone pole cross-bar with an insulator on it.   That was probably the ple one can see in the picture, which would have been at the edge of the lane.

Interesting to me is also the two houses (one white) on the distant Pilgrims Way, there had been three; one received a direct hit, and was demolished.  It was rebuilt (slightly bigger) after the war.
Some planks of wood from the explosion remained  wedged in an adjacent large Beech Tree until the Hurricane.

I thank Ed Thomson for suplying the picture.

Roman Snails

As children we used go on the Downs to collect Rose Hips for making syrup;but our parents had a contact who used to have a liking for (what we called) Roman Snails, and we collected them for him.   I think we received a couple of Bob for a bag full.  I haven't seen one for a long time, until today when, on a walk along the Downs, we encountered several. 

And here is one of them, they are bigger than your average garden snail, but quite what they taste like I have no idea, and I am not rushing to find out.

  

Large and treeless

People who read this tale, and who know the area, will wonder how we were able to get such a uninterrupted view of what was going on.

This was effectively where our back garden was,  there were few trees to obstruct our view.  It is totally different now, with hundreds of houses and lots of trees and shrubs.

This was our back garden of ½ an acre;  from it one looked out eastwards towards a line of distant trees.  It was over those trees that a huge formation of enemy bombers appeared, flying low.

The two large houses (Dippers and Copperfield) on the horizon no longer exist.  It has all been intensively built upon.

My uncle

My Uncle Ronnie who, I was told, enlisted into the BRITISH army when he was 16 years old.  

He was on a troop-ship in the Mediterranean off the North African Coast when it was torpedoed.  He is supposed to have swum ashore.   

He 'fought' his way across north Africa, took part in the landings on Sicilly then Solerno onto Italy, was at Casino,  and went all the way up to Klagenfurt in Austria.  There he met and married one of the enemy, and brought her home with him to England..   

I can't vouch that all of this tale was true, or accurate, but he was one of 7 brothers who went away to war.

A unexploded bomb is recovered .

An additional item:-  Unexploded Bomb

Earlier in my account, I reported on the first bombing raid, when a flight of German aircraft dropped bombs in the region of Sevenoaks Brickworks, this must have been pre-1940, or early 1940.

We saw the bombs falling, and assumed that they were attacking the brickworks, but I would have thought that the Gasworks, and Gasometer might have been more inviting targets, or perhaps the Maidstone, Sevenoaks, London, rail junction near Otford.

Ed  Thompson of the Otford Historical Society has come across this photograph:-

Which shows a bomb being recovered from one of the extraction lakes.   It may be possible to establish exactly when it fell from the ARP wardens reports, which are housed at the KCC archives.  Although it may  well have come from another raid, who knows.

I wonder if it is still ticking?

Explosives

33 - Carnival, & Explosives.

It went with a bang.                    

  

    Then we got into making small explosions largely out of sodium-chlorate weed-killer.  What we were doing then would be rated as being tantamount to terrorist activity in this day and age.  Amongst our ‘gang’ was one genious, come nutter, who we shall call Mike; one who dabbled in chemistry, and decided that he could extract glycerine from cough sweets.  I was visiting our neighbouring billet in which he resided, when he was busy mixing up a chemical concoction of some sort contained in the lid of a tin of boot polish tin.  Suddenly there was a vivid orange flash, and a mighty bang; the result being that he had to be whisked off to the emergency medical centre.  Fortunately at the time of the explosion I was at the other end of that billet.  Mike was later seen with a heavily bandaged forearm, and no eyebrows.

      Any way, someone had the bright idea to place an army type drinks-bottle packed full of explosives, which was then surrounded with concrete, in a small leather suitcase.  From the mouth of the bottle a copper capillary pipe was run to the outside of the case near the handle; a Jetex fuse was inserted into this tube.   Jetex Fuel was used in model jet-engines of the time.  So we had created this secret espionage bomb, so what should we do with it?   Between us we came up with the idea of dropping the bomb into the very muddy River Parrett from the bridge in the centre of town, just to add to the festival on fireworks night; with the idea that the ‘bomb’s explosion would through up a mountain of soft mud to cover anybody who happened to be on the bridge .  On the relative dark evening five of us were travelling in a Morris 12 the seven miles to Bridgwater.   I had the case on my lap, Pine who was sitting next to me, stuck his lighter, and applied it to the fuse of the case.   There were shouts, and probably screams, and the car skidded to a halt have onto the grass berm; the doors flew open and the inmates dived out of the car in a frantic bid to put as much distance between them and the ‘bomb’.   I made a slightly exit as I was sat in the middle of the three back seats to and I had to get the case off my lap and out of my way before I could make my escape.  After waiting for some while, and hearing no bang, we decided that the fuse had not been ignited.  We got back in the car, and Pine was told in no uncertain terms, not to be so stupid again, and we continued on our journey.

     We found our way to the bridge over the River Parett, I held the case on the bridge parapet whilst Pine lit the fuse, then I dropped the case into the river.  It was dark, and no one would have noticed what we had done, and there was plenty of festive activity to obscure the noise.

     We moved a way from the centre of the bridge, and waited, and we waited; nothing happened.  In the end we decided that the fuse had been extinguished under water and, disappointed. We drifted away.   We missed seeing the delayed explosion, but we heard the bang all right.  So it had worked after all.

     There were various amusement stalls, boxing rings, etc.   There was this caravan, which attracted us lads with its sign:   “See the naked sleeping princess”.  Wow!   I, for one, had never seen a naked lady before.  We paid our money and mounted some steps and entered the caravan.  I can remember the dim pink lighting and various curtains, and we came upon this young woman in a glass ‘coffin’, she was laying quietly on her back, naked except for a whisp of tulle discreetly draped across her groin.  Horrified I saw Pine lift the lid, and he lent over and spoke to the girl¨ “Oi girl! D’you wanna fag?”

                                                       “I’m not allowed to speak to anybody”, she whispered: “You’ll get me the sack”.

     After a last lingering look we left her, slightly reluctantly, in peace.

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!

66 years on (2005)
     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 ion front of our home.   5 parachutes left the just before it exploded into a great ball of fire. 

  

   The crew baled 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 Hil, 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 origionally 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 with out 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'. It was a black and white, sort of mock-Tudor style house, set in what had been a small chalk quarry. There I was 'fitted' for a gas mask. I hated wearing it. Fortunately I never had to in earnest, and I rarely, if ever carried the thing about with me. As far as I can remember, few of us ever did. Though I think we were supposed to. Although people of that time are always pictured doing so.

EVACUATION

    I can't remember if my parents were offered the option, or maybe, I didn't know anything about it, but I'm sure we would have stuck it out at home. As we did.

    The London County Council sent evacuees into Kent. I understand that several were accommodated at St. Clere.

THE BLITZ

    The Blitz of London was part of our experience. We were only 25 miles from London, and must have been on the flight-path for many of the raids. The Blitz took place at night, and I believe it went on for 57 consecutive nights. Even to this day, if a propeller driven aircraft flies overhead at night, it still stirs those childhood memories of night bombing. As it also does to my German born wife; Mechtild: "It sounds like one of yours", we say to each other when we lay in bed at night, listening.

    Some of the German Bombers however, had a very distinctive throbbing sound - a sound never to be forgotten and later, the noise of a Doodlebug was also a sound never to be forgotten). The German Junkers Bombers were fitted with supercharged diesel engines, and it was these engines, which gave rise to their eerie throbbing sound. The Rolls Royce Merlin's sound was music to our ears, and still is!

    We frequently went outside and watched. There were searchlight beams searching the sky, and occasionally we would see aircraft as they were caught in a light beam. Then several beams would concentrate on that one, and the anti-aircraft guns would blast away at it.

    The Ack-Ack guns made a distinctive sound, a sound, which I rather liked. I suppose they were a bit reassuring that something was being done to stop the enemy. And, we often saw red tracer shells going up into the night sky. The nights were so much blacker then, than they are now, because no other lights allowed - The blackout was strictly enforced. We also occasionally heard the whiz of shrapnel - pieces of which, all schoolboys collected. Prized items were shell nose cones. We also collected incendiary-bomb fins, so many that we had two large hessian potato sacks full, which we stored in the garage; that is: until my mother made us get rid of them. Shame!

     Once a searchlight beam latched onto an enemy bomber, other searchlights would join in. This didn't seem very sensible to me, because that plane was already caught, they should be looking around for any others.

    I am convinced that many a bomber crew dropped their bombs before they got to the target, and 'scarperred' back home again to safety. No one would have been any the wiser in the dark. Or, they dropped them to lighten the aircraft to gain height (To get to a 'safer' altitude). Who could blame them? There were many bomb-craters in fields and woods around us, which had obviously way off a proper target.

    We lived in a house; there were bungalows on either side of us. There were no houses at the front, only a large field (the 100 acre), and another smaller field at the back. Old pre-war photographs show very clearly, that there were few trees of any size, and largely open fields surrounding our home then - things have changed an awful lot since. There were bungalows either side of us. So, from upstairs, we had a fairly unrestricted view all around us. During the time of the blitz, each morning when we got up the first thing I remember doing, was to look out of each of the upstairs windows to see who, if anybody, had been 'hit'. Because, many of the bangs in the night had seemed to be so loud, and so close, one could have imagined that the bombs had fallen in our garden. However, only once, after I had looked out of the landing window, did I see, that a house had been badly hit at the top of our road. Fortunately the family was not seriously hurt. The story was; they had been sheltering under their stairs. What little that was left of the house had to be demolished, and it was rebuilt after the war was over. There was a large beech tree, on the opposite side of the road, the Pilgrims Way. It stood in the grounds of Falconers Down). The blast blew several pieces of timber, and a door, high up into this tree, where they were firmly lodged. Some of these bits were still lodged up there, long after the war was over.

    One night, we were outside at the front gate watching the action - or what we could see of it. My mother was talking to a man. It was pitch dark, and so I couldn't actually see him. I only knew he was there, because I could hear them chatting. He was the ARP. (Air Raid Precautions) Warden. We heard the loud screech of a bomb descending, terminating in a very load bang. It interrupted the adults' conversation for a moment, and I remember my mother casually remarked: "That was a near one", and they carried on talking as if nothing had happened!

    One night a lot of incendiary bombs landed on the hill (The Downs) above Kemsing, and the woods were set on fire. As kids we spent a lot of time playing, and wandering, up on the hill, and we were very upset that the enemy had dared to set fire to our woods! The next morning we went up the hill to review the damage. These fires hadn't been that serious, and all of them had gone out by the morning.

This following event, only went to confirm to my mother, that she was right with her theory, that if ones name happened to be on the bomb, and your number was up, then there was nothing you could do to about it, wherever you may be.

DIRECT HIT ON WHAT WAS; ISOLATED LODGE (No. 3)

    The destruction of North Lodge, of St. Clere Estate, Heverham, is included in the section on V1s.

LIVE INCENDIARY BOMB

    One day on one of my wanderingsI found an incendiary bomb in the stream (Childs Brook - or Guzzle Brook - The source of which, is the 'lake' at Lower St. Clere), which flows along the valley as a tributary of the River Darenth. I took the intact incendiary bomb home ~ it was quite a prize! Then, on to my school friend's house (Percy Lodge), which was on the Pilgrim's Way, near Cotman's Ash cross-roads, Heverham. His name was John Hall, and if I remember correctly Peter Hamlyn, who lived in the Landway, was there too. We took the incendiary to John's large shed in the orchard. We tried to open the bomb up, I was scared and kept well back, but they were unsuccessful. So the others decided to drill a hole in it! Although it was only a hand drill, the tip of the drill got hot, and a bright purple flame appeared. The magnesium casing had caught fire! I ran away in panic, like a scalded cat, to warn John's Mother down at the house. She was horrified, and rushed back to the shed, and she made them stop what they were doing. John and Peter weren't very pleased with me. And, of course I was a "scaredy-cat". Looking back now, I reckon it was I who had done the right thing.

PLANE CRASHES

    I saw a few. I was horrified when I saw, what I was pretty sure, was a Spitfire, in an absolutely vertical dive. It had a stream of smoke coming from it. It went down straight into the ground nose first. Somewhere in the direction of Wrotham - it was one of ours! Sadly I didn't see any parachute from it either. There were a few others that we saw go down in the far distance, but too far away to be identifiable.

    I saw an orange coloured an Airspeed Oxford (a trainer?)  (There is one of exactly the same colour on display, suspended from the roof of a hangar at the Imperia-War-Museum, Duxford) go down at the back of Oxen-Hill Road, I went down to have a look and it did not appear to have been badly damaged.

    One day, I was walking on the Downs above Kemsing, near Shore-Hill Farm, with my Father who was home on leave, when a Spitfire flew very low, and quite close above us. I noticed that there was a small stream of smoke coming from the engine. I said to my Father: "It 's going to crash!" He poo-poohed the idea, but we watched it go down into the valley, and my Father followed it with his binoculars. Sure enough it did crash. It made a belly-landing close to the nut wood off Childsbridge lane. The M26 motorway now runs close to where that spot was.

    There was a story going around at the time that a local ARP. Warden had rushed to the scene, and had died of a heart attack. I remember that he normally used to walk around slowly with a bent back and his arms behind him, holding his hands together, from which extended a lead to a little black scottie dog; which dawdled along behind him. He wore a raincoat and a trilby or homburg hat. I certainly never saw him again after that incident. Unfortunately I can't remember his name.

A rough sketch of a Defiant.

Chapter 2

---

The BIG AIR BATTLE

We were walking home from school. It was, I suppose, a primary school called 'Russell House School', which was then situated at the bottom of the Chase (then a cul-de-sac), and which subsequently moved to Station Road Otford). We were walking across the field of stubble (the corn had been cut so it may have been late August. If the corn hadn't been harvested, then we would not have been able to walk directly across it), and it was a warm sunny day. There may have been three of us children, and one mother walking together. It was a large field, which extended, unbroken, from the school to Childsbridge Lane, where we lived (it was the "100 acre"). It was not level. We came over the crown of a slight rise in the field, and the lane came into view. Ahead of us was another child's mothe, who was approaching, or coming to meet us. Then we saw (And heard), ahead of us (towards the East), a large formation of aircraft approaching, they were flying low. Suddenly one of the mothers shouted earnestly (I can't remember which one): "They are not ours! They are not ours!" And we were soon able to see the markings, which confirmed that fact to us in no uncertain terms, as they flew low over us.

                                       



"They are not ours! ... They are not ours!"     Shortly after they had passed over us, a tremendous air battle broke out, there was so much activity that it was impossible really to define what was exactly happening, or who was who. However, a German bomber came round to fly across our field of view, it was on fire. As it came round three parachutes emerged from the aircraft as the crew bailed out, one by one. The last one to appear, seemed to us, to be rather lanky, and I remember someone among the adults commenting, that he was rather tall to be the rear-gunner. Very soon after he had left the aircraft there was a huge orange flash, and the plane exploded. It just disintegrated into small fragments - one moment it was there, the next it had apparently vanished before our very eyes. It was simply blown to pieces.

 It was simply blown to pieces.

the crew parachuting into the school's grounds.    We watched the parachutes fall slowly, and as they descended, they drifted northwards into the (extensive) grounds of St. Michael's School, which were at the foot of the Downs, situated between Kemsing, and Otford.

Notes:
    Sunday the 18th.of August 1940 was described as the 'Hardest Day' in the book of that name by Alford Price (Macdonald & James, London). On that day 60 Heinkel 111s attacked Biggen Hill airfield, and they were supported by 40 fighters (Messerschmidt 109s), which adds up to a lot of aircraft (and that is not counting our defending fighters). There were a lot, but my sketch doesn't show how many. I was only six years old at the time, and it is a long time ago. I realise that the particular incident I refer to when a bomber exploded, could not have been on a Sunday if I was coming home from school. The timing is probably correct, because we would have finished at lunchtime at the Russel House Primary school. There was another biggish raid, attacking Biggin-Hill, on the Friday the 30th. I would think, almost certainly that, I must have witnessed both raids, and there were other skirmishes going on all the time, though maybe not on such a grand scale. I am only confident that the enemy bombers were He 111s., and that there were a lot of them. I don't think anybody thought about trying to count them! I suppose it may seem a bit strange that with all that flack flying around, we should be outside, and stand, and watch it. It was a spectacle that I shall never forget, so I am glad that I did witness it.
    We must have then finished up standing around in a group on the grass-verge at the front of our house. I suppose we watched the last elements of the battle fizzle out, which probably didn't last very long within our sphere of vision; and we were probably reviewing what we had seen, and wondering what was going to happen about the parachuted German airmen: when a small pick-up vehicle arrived. I think it was a Hillman 8, or 10. (Horse Power), or it could have been an Austin. It had a canvass top at the back, and four soldiers sat in the back.

...and four soldiers sat in the back
    They could well have been Home-guard. I can only remember seeing one of them holding a Lee-Enfield rifle. The vehicle stopped, and they asked if we had seen the parachutes, and if we had seen where had they fallen? Of course we eagerly told them that we had, and where. Off they went, heading up to Childsbridge Lane, and turning in the direction of the School grounds.
Low level attacks on Biggin Hill Airfield took place on the 19th. and 30th. August 1940. The formations were heading in the direction of Biggin Hill, though Fort Halstead was also directly in their path, and that could also have been a potential target.
I have since taken the photographs of a preserved WW2 vehicle, which was on display at Woodchurch Airshow, 2001. They appear on another page.

Just to get some idea of the sheer scale of things, this is a photograph of enemy bombers flying over the Sevenoaks area, though flying higher than my earlier experience when they were much lower.  [picture supplied by Ed Thompson, local historian, and author of several books on local history]

LOST SCHOOL FRIEND?
    When I was at the Preparatory School in Sevenoaks, I arranged to meet a friend at the weekend, he lived in a ragstone cottage at the top of Watery Lane. This lane ran up from Kemsing Station past 'Stone pits'. I cycled there on my single gear, 20" diameter wheeled, Norman bicycle*. When I arrived, all that remained of the cottage was a heap of rubble. It must have received a direct hit. I think this friend's name was 'Golding', we only used surnames at school (Sevenoaks Preparatory), and I didn't know him that well. We had only recently struck up a friendship. I never found out what happened to 'Golding'. The only explanation that anybody offered me at the time was that he had gone away. He certainly didn't show up at school again.
    There were some buildings called Chart Lodge next-door to Golding's cottage (Chart Corner Cottage?), and this housed an army HQ, this could have been the intended target, or it may just have been a random bomb.
   The cottage was later rebuilt, more-or-less exactly as it was.

* Incidently the very elderly widow of the owner of Norman cycles, until recently, still lived in our (Canterbury) road.

DIRECT HIT ON ISOLATED COTTAGE No. 2
    I was walking on the Downs with a friend and heading home via Clarks Bottom (or 'Clark's Green'), which is between Woodlands and Cotman's Ash. It was a hot day and we were thirsty. We went through a white 5-bar-gate to take the track that led through, what we called, the 'Foxglove Wood'.
This was on one of our walking routes, which went from Clark's Bottom (As we knew it), through Beechy Lees Wood/Carpenter's Wood, along to Shore Hill, which would bring us down Chalky lane (Shore Hill) across the Pilgrim's Way, to Childsbridge Lane, and home.
    Just through a white 5-bar-gate from Clarke's Bottom (Clarke's Green), stood an isolated flint, and rag stone, cottage. I knocked on the door to ask for a drink of water. A man with a strong foreign accent came to the door, and he went back and fetched us two mugs of water. Each one was a souvenir mug, which may have been decorated to commemorate the Coronation of George the V1th.?
The 'Royal' mugs had impressed me, and I thought suggested that the man was a genuinely dedicated loyal subject, despite his foreign accent.
    We carried on home, through Beach Lees Wood, and Carpenter's Woo, which led to another white 5-bar-gate, which was on the approach road to "Treacle Towers" (later: 'Hildenborough Hall'/Otford Manor). Then home by going down to Childsbridge Lane via Shore Hill, and part of 'Chalky Lane'. It was quite a long walk for us youngsters, but we did a lot of walking then.
I can't remember how long afterwards, but in real terms it couldn't have been that long, we happened to come past that cottage again - or, rather, what little there was left of it: - for it was just a heap of rubble. However quietly tucked away in the countryside it was, that was no guarantee of its safety. We searched around amongst the rubble, and I had hoped that I might find a fragment of the Coronation Mugs, but I was unsuccessful.
   That such an isolated cottage should have been hit showed that nowhere was entirely safe, and that perhaps my mother was right - if your name happens to be on a particular bullet, or indeed a bomb, then there was nothing you could do to escape it. Which was, or so I am led to believe, by a certain Len Barton (now in his 80s), a point emphasised to pre-war Territorial Army recruits.

LONE RAIDER (Hit and Run Raid?) - 5 DEAD
    It was during the day. I was outside our property standing on the roadside berm (grass verge) when I spotted a lone, slim, German Dornier bomber. It was flying on a line directly above the Pilgrim's Way, from East to West. It was sufficiently close enough for me to see, much to my surprise, the bomb-bay doors open. At that moment it was at this point between the Landway, and Childsbridge Lane. Then, I saw a long cylindrical object leave the plane. It was an aerial-torpedo. This 'torpedo' seemed to take an extraordinary long time, and travel a considerable distance, before it hit the ground. A bit like a missile. I lost sight of it as it went over the rise of my immediate horizon, heading towards Otford. That rise was at about Beechy Lees Road. In the distance a plume of dust, and debris, shot into the air, and then I heard the bang. We certainly soon learnt that sound travels more slowly than light, or sight.
   I went down to Otford, via the Pilgrim's Way, on my bicycle, where I eventually discovered that the torpedo had hit a row of houses in Leonard Avenue, where the Woodman Public House stood on the corner. Several houses were destroyed and others badly damaged. I understood that five people were killed.
Leonard Avenue is about two miles away from where the bomb had been released, but it is less than a quarter of a mile away from Otford Railway Station, which I assume, must have been the intended target. There was no other obvious target that I could think of in the area at that time. Aerial Bombing in those days was not very accurate.

The Dornier releasing the aerial-torpedo.(The Dornier was known as the 'Flying Pencil)

HOUSE FRONT BLOWN AWAY - AT SEAL
    I was in Seal, and saw a house in the upper High Street (above Childsbridge Lane, and the Fawk Common Road junction), the whole front of the house had been blown away. It was probably the same house that was damaged in August 1994 by a run-away lorry

HOUSES DAMAGED IN SEAL HOLLOW ROAD
    One morning, as I was cycling to school, I noticed that some houses were damaged in Seal Hollow Road, near the Bayham Road junction. I would usually cycle up, or get off and walk up, Bayham, or Serpentine Road, to get to my Preparatory School in Vine Court Road.
    Another day, closer to school, as I cycled along the upper, and level, part of Bayham Road; I came to a point where the road descended to the dangerous, and complex, five-way junction with Hollybush Lane. I was running a bit late, and decided to take advantage of the short downhill slope, and 'chance-it', to ride straight across the dangerous blind junction (there was a ragstone wall, which restricted vision) without stopping, and ignore the 'HALT' sign. There wasn't so much traffic about in those days, so the risk was fairly slight. But, before I got there, a large policeman on a bike came swinging round the corner from Hollybush Lane, right into my path, and we collided. There we were, both of us lying spread-eagled in the road. Horror of horrors! I went in fear, and trembling of Policemen, children really respected their authority in those days. Not only had I knocked a policeman off his bike, but his helmet had come off as well! It lay in the road not too far from my bicycle pump, which had become detached through the collision. "It was: down to the 'nick' for me - what would my parents think?! Their son blatantly failing to stop at a Halt-Sign?.
    I watched the policeman slowly pick himself up. He gathered up his helmet, smoothed his thin hair - (don't policemen look different without their helmet on?). He brushed himself down, straightened his uniform; and then he picked up my pump. The dreaded moment had arrived. He walked over to me: "Hey! sonny, are you alright?" He said in a sympathetic tone. This didn't sound at all like the angry Policeman I had expected! Even more surprising; he helped me up to my feet, and brushed me down saying in a friendly voice: "I'm terribly sorry old son, I cut the corner - it was my fault."!
    His fault? I was dazed. I was amazed: 'His fault?'
    I was a bit shaken and hurt, and I noticed that my bike's front mudguard was bent, but I didn't say anything. I didn't want to delay him. If he had hung about too long he might have changed his mind. So I said that I was OK.
    'His fault' - 'cut the corner'? Well, come to think about it: he had cut the corner! I hadn't quite got to the HALT LINE when he ran into ME! So he wouldn't have realised my 'criminal intent' - Phew! What a let off! He was full of apologies, and kept asking if I was sure that I was all right. He put my pump back in its place on my bike. Now I even had an excuse for being late to school! And, what a tale I had to tell everybody at school. I could say to the teacher, in front of the whole class, that a policeman had crashed into me and knocked me off my bicycle!
    I suppose that I was about 10 to 12 years old at the time.
EMERGENCY SERVICES
Police cars were a very rare sight indeed, especially out in the villages. What Police cars there were, were Wolsely Saloons, and MG. Two-seater sports cars ~ all of them were painted plain black. Except for Mr (Sgt.) Paris's in Otford, he was occasionally seen driving a Ford 8 (8 Horse Power - side valve engine). They did not have a siren nor did they have flashing lights. What they did have, however, was a small chromium bell mounted on the front bumper, which operated electrically. The bell wasn't very loud.
    Civilian ambulances were white, or cream. They had the same bell as Police cars, whilst fire-engines usually had a large brass bell, which had a rope dangling from the clanger, and wich was rung earnestly by hand by one of the crew on board the engine. It was louder, and subject to the enthusiasm of the crew, could be made to sound quit urgent. The fire vehicles were paineted the usual red.
    There was no 999 emergency telephone system. With most phones you couldn't dial anyway, but had to ask the operator for the emergency services.
    The nearest Doctor's surgery then was in the next village of Otford. As was the Chemist and Pharmacy (next to the Woodman Public House). If the doctor made a house call one of us would have to walk or cycle to Otford, and back, or walk, to collect the prescription.

   My brother and I, and our local pal/neighbour (next door but one) David Bridge would have had Measles (I remember that I had to stay in bed with the curtains drawn), Chicken Pox, and Mumps. In the latter case my face, and neck was very swollen, and the doctor said that it was: "Good Old Fashioned Mumps". Perhaps, some of these afflictions would have meant that I didn't go to school when I was thus affected. I had a scarf tied up round my face. All these complaints are now injected against, and most of today's children escape these illnesses.

SEVENOAKS
    The town was very different then, to what it is now. A high protective wall, which was built up with sandbags, protected the Police station, and Seal Hollow Road had steel barriers staggered across the road roughly at the junction of Seal Hollow Road with Hollybush Lane. There was much less traffic, and few traffic lights. In those days, perhaps not so prevalent in Sevenoaks itself, policemen on 'Point duty', often directed traffic by hand. And, there were no flashing direction-indicators on motor vehicles, though some had a illuminated semaphore arm, which swung out at the turn of a switch (if you were lucky ~ they weren't very reliable), otherwise most people driving would use hand signals. Most cars had a single rear light, and no braking lights; and so it was necessary for drivers to give a slowing down signal, by sticking the right arm fully out of the driver's window, with the hand flat, and waving the arm up and down. The indication for turning left was made by signalling in a circular clockwise movement out of the window, and: turning to the right, was indicated by sticking ones right arm straight out of the window. So, whatever the weather, one had to frequently have the window open.
    Sevenoaks Library was in the Drive (just off the High Street). There was also a small museum in some of the rooms of the same building, and I vaguely remember seeing an unexploded (defused) parachute landmine on display there. Another one fell, and exploded in the St. Johns area. Several were dropped in April 1941. There was some talk of a landmine, or 'parachute-mine', having got entangled round a lamppost in the town and thereby had not been detonated, and it may have been that one, that was on display in the library - I can't be sure.
    Another one fell, and exploded in the St. Johns area, on the North side of Sevenoaks.

    Next door to the library, to the rear of the church, was a hall that housed the 'British Restaurant'. British Resturants were set up in most towns. They provided cheap (9d. = 4.5 pence!), basic meals, and it was where I was supposed to go for my lunch - often I didn't. The food wasn't very good, and what sticks in my mind particularly, was the custard, it was 'inedible'! Children of today thrown into the same situation would be in for a shock, but they would be all the healthier for it (That and the greater exercise). Generally there was little or no choice; one ate what one was given, or we would have to go with out!
There was a lot of military traffic movement in those days, especially up to the period leading up to the preparations for the D-Day invasion. A small army fuel-tanker truck lost control whilst it was going down St. John's Hill, and it crashed right into a shop through the front display plate-glass window. Only the rear end of the vehicle was sticking out of the shop.

   There were other bits of bomb-damage around Sevenoaks town, and some serious incidents too which will be well recorded elsewhere. It wasn't until the V2 entered the fray that really large scale damage occurred, notable in my recollection was at St. Johns, when several houses were destroyed in Wickenden Road, and many more damaged; 9 people died in this attack. Quite a few V2s. dropped all around Sevenoaks.

   Private cars were a rare sight. We did see the occasional car with a gas-bag on the roof, and commercial vehicles towing a trailer with a fuel gas generator on it. A good bus service kept running, and the fare from Kemsing to Sevenoaks, was 3D (3 old pence = 1½p.). We would either use the normal bus service, to get to school, or more generally, cycle.

    I vaguely recollect that Knole Park was closed to the public during the war, possibly because of the large number of military vehicles that were stored in the Park.

YELLOW-NOSED MESSERSCHMITT 109
   We had a large garden (½ an acre). In it were several tall poplar trees, of the tall Lombardy and broader Silver varieties. We (My mother, brother, and I) were in the garden on the back lawn. Suddenly a yellow nosed fighter aircraft came flying extremely low (West to East) indeed, so low, that it almost brushed the top of our Lombardy Poplar tree. I saw the pilot quite plainly. The Messerschmitt 109 wasn't travelling very fast, and we watched it disappear in the distance low over a house called 'Copperfields' towards Kemsing village.
    There appeared to be no other aircraft about at the time, maybe it was sneaking home - who knows?

I saw the pilot quite plainly.
BIG GUN
    One day I saw a train standing on the track of the Maidstone line, between Childsbridge Lane and Otford. I was able to see it from the road. The train (drawn by a steam engine) was an army unit of which the main component was a huge gun. It was distinctive not just because of the large gun, but because it was painted with a camouflaged pattern. I suppose that, in theory it ought to have been less obvious if it was camouflaged! I have since ascertained that it was most probably in transit from Addisham to Oakhampton in Devon, where it would have been re-calibrated. It could have been the 18" (460mm) diameter Howitzer Railway gun, which was managed by the Royal Artillery from Yorkshire - nicknamed the "Boche Buster", or another gun in transit. Apparently this type of gun needed regular re-calibration. I have been given to understand that it was fired from near Dover, and when not in action it was hidden in a nearby Railway tunnel.

MY FIRST WAR WOUNDS!
    I was in the back garden, of a school friend and near neighbour. We were playing about, some fifty feet from the back of the house (a bungalow). Suddenly two aircraft raced towards us, flying very low (from the Kemsing direction - travelling East to West). There was the rat-a-tat-tat of gunfire. I ran like a startled rabbit for the back door of the bungalow. The back door was at right angles to the rear wall of the bungalow, and in my extreme haste I hit the back wall just as the last of the two aircraft passed over the house. I was going too fast to turn the 90 degrees to get into the back door, and I had hit the wall with the palm of my hands. The wall had a rough pebbledash finish, and I cut my hands on the sharp fractured flint stones. My hands were very painful as a result.

There was the rat-a-tat-tat of gunfire.
    At this same time, a couple of holes had appeared in the roof of our home. My mother who was working in our garden, said that a piece of shrapnel had knocked a chip off the concrete ornamental bird-bath, which was close to where she was gardening at the time. There were people who carried out temporary bomb damage repairs. We soon had some replacement tiles to cover these holes, but they didn't match the colour of the rest of the roof. So they were pretty obvious.
    The attack had happened so quickly that we had no idea who was chasing who, and of course, when two aircraft are racing low towards you, and you can hear guns chattering, you don't hang about in the open!

MORE WAR WOUNDS
    One day, when I was cycling home from Heverham to Kemsing, along the Pilgrim's Way, when I saw a formation of about six fighter aircraft in the sky coming towards me. I watched them as they flew (slightly off to my right) above the crest of the Downs - CRASH! I had gone headfirst down the bank into a hawthorn hedge. I had learnt the hard way: never to watch anything going on in the sky when you are riding a bicycle. I received some nasty cuts, and scratches, about my face and neck. The maxim should be, I suppose: that one should always look where one is going, whatever one is doing, and especially when riding a bicycle.

GRANDSTAND VIEW - AIR-RAID SIRENS
    We boys spent a lot of time on the Downs. Unlike children of today (2004), we had tremendous freedom to roam, which we did, unaccompanied by adults, and often for many miles, either alone, or two or three of us. From the top of the Downs we often had a good view of what was going on; we could see how the Barrage Balloons were deployed, and watch any Doodlebugs, etc.. Sometimes there was more than one V1 in the air at the same time, and they often appeared to fly up the valley. It puzzled us, because it often seemed to us, that as we watched, the Doodlebugs, that they would fly unhindered clean through all the barrage-balloons without hitting any. It was almost as if they were being guided up the valley by radio control, or that they had a pilot. And, they would then seem to bear right at Otford, to continue on up the Darenth valley - heading on for London.

    Often, when we were up on the hill, we would hear the air-raid sirens sounding. They didn't just all go off at once. I can remember on one occasion, having heard a distant siren go off first, one of us saying: "That was probably Ightham, or Wrotham - we should hear Kemsing's siren go off soon." "There it goes!" Then: "That 's Otford, there 's Seal - hey! Seal was a bit slow." And so on.

SCRAP IRON FOR THE WAR EFFORT.
    Much of St. Michael's School's grounds had iron-railings for fencing around its border. This was all removed, as were most other such railings, to provide metal for the war effort. A lot were never replaced. Other collection campaigns were made for aluminium.  There was no car-park on the approach road like there is today, it would not have been necesary
.
KEMSING RECREATION GROUND PLOUGHED UP
     Kemsing was fortunate to have a large, and beautiful, recreation ground, which had been generously donated to the village by Sir Mark Collett. This was all ploughed up. People didn't object too much at the time, because it was all part of the war effort, or so we thought. However it was still being farmed for an awful long time after the war finished. After quite a lot of local pressure had been brought to bear, it was eventually reinstated as a (our) recreation ground.

THE DOWNS - (HILLS OVERLOOKING KEMSING).
    There were a lot of bomb-craters dotted about the woods, and the downland generally. Several doodlebugs fell there. There were also one or two dug-out trenches, on what is now known as Kemsing Down. We rarely met anybody, especially any adults, when we played and wandered about up there. We had tremendous freedom then, which few children now seem to enjoy - and that was during a war!
Whenever we returned from the hills we always brought back firewood with us. We always took only dead wood, and the longer the pieces the better. We then dragged them home to saw them up, with a bow-saw. We made our own saw-trestles to make the job easier. Working with one either side of the saw, it made the work less strenuous, but it was important to get the same rhythm, and quite often we bashed our knuckles against the wood we were cutting. It was teamwork.
Apart from collecting so many incendiary bomb fins, largely on the Downs, (and some in the village) we also came across loads of tin foil ('Ribbon'), which was dropped to confuse enemy radar at round about the time of the invasion of France.
    There were occasions when organised parties of schoolchildren and some parents (mothers, no fathers - they weren't available) went up on the hills to gather rose hips (from the wild Dog-Roses). I think that too, was all part of the war effort. The hips were probably used to make syrup for to be issued to babies. You can of course dry the hips, for making Hip-soup, etc..

FIGHTER LOSES FUEL TANK
    One day, when I was waiting for a bus in the Sevenoaks bus terminal at Bligh's Meadow; I saw a fighter aircraft flying overhead. One of its wing-tanks (the one attached to its port wing), became detached. The tank appeared to split open and fall away from the aircraft. I could see (what looked like) the fuel spilling out. The plane recovered, and headed off, and away, somewhere out of sight. So, obviously I didn't always cycle to school.

RIFLE RANGE
    On the lower part of the Downs, at the base of the old chalk-pit, there was a rifle range. This was largely used by the Home-Guard for practice. A Colonel Hadow was Officer Commanding (O.C.) the Local Home Guard, and there was a Sergeant Ian Pattello from Heverham. When the range wasn't in use, we used to scour the 'Butts' for spent bullets, cartridges, etc. Once I found a badge there.

ITALIAN PRISONERS
    There was an ancient track-way called ' Chalky Lane', that went up over the Downs to Shore Hill Farm. It passed through some beech woods. One day I was in Chalky Lane when I observed some Italian Prisoners cutting down some beech trees, on the St. Michael's side of the lane. There were a few other children in attendance, who came from Dynes Road. The children were collecting chips of beech wood in sacks for firewood. The prisoners proved conclusively to me that they were Italian, because they sang operatic arias as they worked. Even though I didn't understand them.
    I watched them for a while as they were felling a large tree. Suddenly there was urgent shouting - the tree had begun to fall! One of the children, a girl, was in the path of the falling tree. She scampered away, at first dragging the sack behind her, but fortunately she let go, and tumbled down the bank. She escaped by a hair's-breadth, the abandoned sack lay under the branches of the fallen tree. It was a very narrow escape. The Italian P.O.W.s eventually retrieved the sack for her, from under the branches. She had been very lucky.
   These same Italians made clogs out of the beech wood whilst they were working there at the logging site.  They had a fairly relaxed time of it!
    I was travelling with my mother on the train between Eynsford and Shoreham, when we saw from the train, two lorries carrying Italian prisoners in the back. There was the metal framework, but the tarpaulin cover had been rolled back, so we could see them well. They were travelling in the same direction as the train along the A225, which runs parallel to the railway line. I don't know who started first, but we waved heartily to each other, all the time they were in sight. They were the enemy? Or, they had been.
I have a feeling that the above incident was almost immediately after we had received the news that Italy had surrendered, which was in 1943. I cannot now explain how we could identify them as Italians, or maybe we just thought they were.

BARRAGE BALLOONS
    Barrage-balloons arrived in Kemsing after the Doodlebug phase of the war had started, and they would have started to appear among us during July 1944.
[Balloons had been used to protect towns (LONDON in particular) and strategic targets just prior to the outbreak of the war. Many of those were manned by WAAF. Personnel.]

A Barrage-Balloon near Otford.

[picture supplied by Ed Thompson, Otford Historian, and author onf local history].

    There were several near us, 'Ours' was set up in the field in front of our house, known as the: "Hundred Acre". Which, as I have already stated, is all built on now, and covered in houses.
    'Our' balloon base was stationed just across the road from our home, in the field. There was another unit further over in the same field. Each balloon-site was manned by about half-a-dozen men from the R.A.F. Regiment. My Father was serving in the R.A.F. Regiment so I empathised with them. We local kids spent a lot of time at the site, and I expect that it must have been a boring job for the troops. We played knock-about cricket, and football, with them. They were lucky to have a proper leather football. They got a bit too boisterous, and a heavy leather football, kicked by one of the servicemen, hit me very hard on the leg. They made contact with my mother, because of this incident, and she used to cook meals for them, especially chips. I especially remember her chips, which were good!

They were lucky to have a proper leather football     At school, we used to compare notes about 'our' balloon teams, of whom we were proud. I was a bit miffed however, when John Hall came to school with a tale of how 'His' balloon team had been shooting rabbits with a Sten-gun (or so he said!). Apparently the one rabbit they did manage to hit, was in such a mess, that it was useless for eating. So it was a slight comfort to me, to know that it had all been rather a waste of time - i.e.: they weren' t that smart!. They couldn't have done that where we lived as there were houses about, and we didn't want any stray bullets.
    The two barrage-balloons in our field, were really too close together, and there was some great fun, and games, when their cables got entangled. The crews had great difficulty getting them apart again. When they eventually left our field, and the balloons had been lowered for the last time, we helped get the last of the gas out of 'our' balloon by clambering all over it. It was a bit like a partially inflated bouncy castle.
Once, we did see a balloon that had broken loose, and we watched a Hurricane make a few passes, and we heard the rat-tat-tat of gun-fire as it tried to shoot it down.

    More tales about the balloons will feature under V1.s, the Doodlebug section.