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!"
It was simply blown to pieces.
the crew parachuting into the school's grounds.
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.
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.]
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.
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)
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?
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.
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
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.
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