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.