'Anging 'Round Pubs

Chief Warden Hodges, as played by Bill Pertwee, together with his nemesis, Capt. Mainwaring as played by Arthur Lowe (Author's collection)

This article is an updated and modified version of a piece which first appeared in the July 2010 edition of this blog.

For those of us of a certain generation and thanks to the constant re-runs, many younger people too, the mention of a Second World War Air Raid Warden will often automatically lead to thoughts of Chief Warden Bert Hodges, played superbly by the late Bill Pertwee in the classic BBC comedy Dad's Army. To use the words of Sergeant Wilson of the Walmington-on-Sea Home Guard, Hodges was a "rather course man" who revelled in his newly-found importance and indeed was heard to state in at least one episode "...I do enjoy this war." What Hodges doesn't realise, at least until much later in the series, is that he is roundly despised by not only the Home Guard platoon but also by pretty much everyone in the town and is shocked into tears when he learns of this - not that it seems to change him much.

Whilst the character of Hodges was obviously written for comedic effect by Jimmy Perry and David Croft - who both were of the wartime generation - as the 'Pantomime Villain' for the series, there are certainly some parallels between the depiction of Hodges and how the British public viewed their real-life Air Raid Wardens, at least at the earlier period of the war. 

Some of the rhetoric and mythology that has emanated from the 1940 Blitz period propaganda is still wheeled out to this day, sometimes by those who really should know better. On the other hand, works such as Clive Ponting's execrable "1940: Myth and Reality" basically would have us believe that everything that happened in 1940 was a lie - at least as far as the British were concerned. This would have come as news to my parents and grandparents, as well as the many others who lived through it!

As always, the truth lays somewhere in between the extremes and one of the happier aspects of any serious research is to sometimes discover that a story that one had come to believe was a complete fabrication, is actually true. This is the case with the assertion, that I have heard from one or two other guides, that an article in a local London newspaper stated that ARP should stand not for "Air Raid Precautions" but instead for "' Anging 'Round Pubs". Good for a laugh but a story that has never been backed up with a shred of evidence, at least not by anyone that I have heard peddling it. Closer investigation of the British Newspaper Archive reveals that such a phrase was indeed heard in 1939 and 1940 but far from it being a local newspaper story, it was a gag used by the great Bud Flanagan in his act, which was then repeated in various articles in the national and entertainment press, an example of which is repeated below. I can now use this gag when guiding groups and have some evidence to support the story!

The Bud Flanagan gag, as explained in 'The Bystander' of 27 October 1939 (Author's photo)

As the Wardens' main job was the ensure the enforcement of the Blackout, there were some members of the public who viewed them as lackeys of the police, whilst others resented their calls of "Put that light out" or "Cover that window" whenever a chink of light was detected, thus breaking the blackout regulations. As with any sample of the population, there were some wardens who were officious and bossy and of course, any reports of such individuals gave the rest of the service a bad name, even though the vast majority were of wardens were diligent citizens doing their best to help defend their local neighbourhood. 

Whilst the relatively few full-time ARP Wardens were paid £3 5s a week for men and £2 3s 6d for women (about £3.25 and £2.18 respectively), the majority of wardens (around 90 percent) were part timers, who were basically paid expenses only. Full-time wardens over 35 were also "frozen" (i.e. exempt) from the call-up to the armed services effective from October 1940. By the end of the war, the numbers of wardens across the country had swollen to some 1.4 million, of whom around ten percent were full timers.

The origins of the Wardens' Service goes back to 1935, when the then Prime Minister Stanley Baldwin published a circular called Air Raid Precautions which invited local authorities to make plans to protect their citizens against air attack in the event of a war. Some of the more responsible authorities responded by constructing public air raid shelters, whilst others ignored the advice perhaps hoping that by doing so, the problem would go away.

Air Raid Wardens in Lewisham outside their Post (Author's collection)

Faced with this attitude from some councils, in 1937 the government decided to create an Air Raid Wardens' service and over the following year, recruited some 200,000 volunteers. In addition to the wardens, the government extended the provision of public air raid shelters by digging trench shelters in public parks and issuing corrugated steel shelters to households for installation in gardens. These were known as Anderson Shelters after Sir John Anderson, whom Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain had placed in charge of Air Raid Precautions in 1938. At first, it was decided not to use the London Underground for sheltering purposes but this was quickly countermanded in the face of civil disobedience as soon as the Blitz started.

Once the Blitz started, the public's attitude towards the Air Raid Wardens changed almost overnight, for as well as patrolling during the quieter "all clear" periods, the Wardens would remain on the streets on patrol, invariably in pairs during raids, when they would often be the first to arrive on the scene of an incident. They would then assess the situation, decide which services were required and then make their report to the Post Warden, who would then telephone for the requested services. The warden would then return to the scene of the incident and take charge until such time as the services arrived, at which point they would continue their patrol of their designated area.

Being in the front line as it were, it was inevitable that many wardens would be killed and these were amongst the total of 2,379 Civil Defence workers including 231 women lost their lives during the conflict.

Published Sources:

London at War, Philip Ziegler - Sinclair Stevenson 1995
Backs to the Wall, Leonard Mosley - Weidenfeld & Nicholson 1971
Blitz, M J Gaskin - Faber & Faber 2005
The City that Wouldn't Die, Richard Collier - Collins 1959
Carry on London, Ritchie Calder - English Universities Press 1941
The Myth of The Blitz, Angus Calder - Jonathan Cape 1991
The People's War, Angus Calder - Jonathan Cape 1969

Unpublished Sources:

British Newspaper Archive - 'The Bystander', 27 October 1939

Richard Hannaway, Bill Watson and the unknown Baby - a story of The London Blitz

The Daily Mirror headline from 9th September 1940 (Kay Evison)

One of the more gratifying aspects of writing this blog is receiving feedback from around the globe and learning about hitherto unknown or forgotten aspects of the Blitz and the Second World War from relatives of the people involved. In the past, I have heard from readers in the USA, Australia, South Africa and Canada, as well of course, from closer to home here in the United Kingdom.

The latest correspondence came via our Facebook page and was from Kay Evison in New Zealand and read as follows:

"Hi there I am new to this group and I am doing some research on my grandfather who was an ARP hero during the Blitz.

I now know my grandfather lived in 34 Pigott Street, Limehouse, for about 5 year from 1936 until 1940 and was an Air Raid Warden. His name was William Watson (which wasn't his real name) and he was in his 40's when she first met him. My grandmother would have been about 19 at the time she first met him, ironically he deserted her before she had her baby in 1935 (my father, he was adopted by his grandmother in Bristol.) My grandmother then went on to work as a short hand typist at the Lewisham NAAFI to help support her family. I have for some time now been trying to find out more about my grandfather as this was the biggest family secret ever and anyone who knew anything has now passed on. I would like to find out his nationality and date of birth to further my research, I couldn't find him on the 1939 register although I found details of him on the Electoral rolls. (I have located the relatives of the boy Richard Hannaway in the story and the attached newspaper clipping has been passed onto his relatives (he died in 2012) and hope to hear more from them. His family lived in 33 Pigott Street.

I would love to hear from anyone who recognises which street the birth occurred in as I would love to find the child of the lady in the cutting but she was only recorded as Mrs R Foster. Her husband was also an ARP Warden."

The newspaper cutting from the Daily Mirror is reproduced above, courtesy of Kay and the story makes remarkable reading. Given the date of the cutting, 9th September 1940, one can easily surmise that the incident took place on the night of 'Black Saturday' 7th September 1940 - the first night of the London Blitz, when the East End bore the brunt of the bombing which killed 448 Londoners and left large areas of East and Southeast London in ruins.

Rose (we are not certain of her first name) Foster was heavily pregnant and in bed when the raid started. She was waiting for an ambulance to take her to hospital but the raid developed and she found herself stranded in bed about to give birth. One of the puzzles from this story is exactly where was she located? 

The location of the horse trough circled - Pigott Street runs to top right of the map (Mick Lemmerman)

There is someone by the name of R Foster mentioned on the Electoral Register but she was located a tidy distance away in Milward Street, close to the London Hospital. We know that Richard Hannaway, the little boy mentioned in the article, lived at 33 Pigott Street, opposite Bill Watson at number 34 and was bringing water from a nearby horse trough in order to wash the baby.

The location of the horse trough was located courtesy of a brilliant piece of local detective work by another follower of the blog, the author  and Isle of Dogs historian Mick Lemmerman, two of whose books on the Blitz have been reviewed here in October 2015 and February of this year. Mick worked out the location of the horse trough as being in the middle of Commercial Road at the junction with West India Dock Road as he recognized the public loos seen in the photograph!

From that piece of deduction, we now know that young Richard had run to the end of Pigott Street to the horse trough in Commercial Road; a relatively short distance but considering the fact that bombs would have been falling and shrapnel flying through the air, this was an incredibly brave act for anyone under fire, let alone a thirteen year old boy.

The extract from the Daily Mirror tells us that despite "never having done anything like this before" Bill brought the baby girl safely into the world and that she and her mother were both doing fine.

The article also mentions a bomb falling about eighty yards from the house which actually blew off the roof. A check of the LCC Bomb Map for Pigott Street reveals that it suffered from what looks like at least one direct hit and that several properties were destroyed as well as more that were seriously damaged. Amongst those properties seriously damaged was Richard Hannaway's house at number 33 (immediately to the right of the church in Pigott Street) as was Bill Watson's house directly opposite. Could it be that Rose Foster was visiting or living with Richard's parents when she went into labour?

The Bomb Damage Map for Pigott Street (Author's image)

It sort of adds up - perhaps Richard Hannaway was sent out by his Mum to get water to boil for the soon to be born baby and encountered his neighbour 'Uncle Bill' Watson and enlisted his help. Sadly, Richard passed away in 2012 and so far, Kay has been unable to trace the family of Rose Foster or to ascertain whether the baby is still alive, which given that she would now be 75, is quite possible.

Kay is also anxious to learn more about her Grandfather Bill Watson, who appears to have had something of a mysterious past. As can be seen from Kay's original communication, William Watson wasn't his real name and his nationality was also something of a mystery, although he was obviously an accepted part of his local community, being known as 'Uncle Bill' to all the local children.

Hopefully, one of our many readers around the world can throw some more light on this puzzle - it would be wonderful if a member of the Foster family could read this, or perhaps someone who knew or was related to Bill Watson. The power of the internet is remarkable, so we live in hope!

I am indebted to Kay Evison for contacting me and also to Mick Lemmerman for his local knowledge and insights into the area's social history.

            

Discovering Wartime Chelsea

Wartime memorabilia at the Royal Hospital (author's photo)

 

I was recently lucky enough to guide a small family group from New York for a whole day exploring various aspects of London's wartime past and for part of this day, we took a walk around Chelsea, an area that perhaps does not at first thought appear synonymous with this most violent part of our capital city's recent history but is nevertheless an area which suffered heavily not just during the Blitz of 1940-41 but also suffered it's fair share of the later V-1 and V-2 weapons of 1944-45. 

However, it was coincidental that we happened to take our walk on the 74th anniversary to the day of an air raid that became particularly engrained on the history of this historic borough - April 16th/17th 1941 - a raid so ferocious that it became known to Londoners of the time simply as 'The Wednesday' and one which recurs with a terrifying regularity in the history of wartime Chelsea.

We started our walk outside Sloane Square Underground Station. This station was originally opened to the public on 24th December 1868 by the Metropolitan District Railway as part of that company’s first section of line between South Kensington and Westminster. In 1872, the company connected with the erstwhile rival Metropolitan Railway’s tracks at South Kensington and the Inner Circle, predecessor of today’s Circle Line began to operate, although the full circuit was not completed until 1884. In 1939, the station began an extensive upgrade as part of London Transport’s ‘New Works Scheme’ which included the installation of escalators, the first of their kind on a sub-surface line. The works were completed on 27th March 1940 but to no avail, because on 12th November 1940, the station was struck by a HE Bomb causing the modernized station to be almost totally destroyed. 

Tragically, 36 people were killed and a further 79 seriously injured, mostly aboard a train which had been leaving the station when the bomb struck and which caused large pieces of rubble to fall onto the train carriages. The station was rebuilt again after the war and today the only clue to the damage can be seen from the platforms where the stubs of the original cast iron supports to the old glazed station roof are still visible protruding from the retaining walls above the platforms. 

From this location, we exited the station forecourt and proceeded across Sloane Square, turning into Lower Sloane Street, before taking the first turning on the right into Turks Row. 

Self-explanatory plaque at Turk's Row (author's photo)

 

During the Second World War, the large apartment blocks known as Sloane Court and Sloane Court East were in use as billets for American Army personnel stationed in London. At about 8 a.m. on Monday July 3rd 1944, a V-1 Flying Bomb fell in the street outside Sloane Court East which completely destroyed this building. The death toll was horrendous – 74 American service personnel – including several women were killed along with 3 British civilians and with many more injured. 

An eye-witness to the immediate aftermath of this incident was Bill Figg, a young RAF serviceman on leave in his home area of Chelsea. After the war, Figg recalled what he saw and heard:

"I heard the unmistakeable sound of a V1, like a motorcycle without a silencer."

The missile struck, blowing Figg off his feet. He picked himself up and rushed around the corner into Turk's Row and was greeted by a scene of immense horror.

"I saw this Army truck with four bodies slumped over the back. In the middle of the road, there was a head. All down Sloane Court East, there were more bodies than you could shake a stick at. You just rolled over the bodies and felt the pulse. I must have rolled over twenty or thirty bodies but they were all glassy-eyed."

Reputedly the exact spot where the V1 fell (author's photo)

The casualties incurred by the WACs, or Women’s Army Corps to give them their full title, were the first suffered by them whilst serving overseas. Today, a plaque on the wall of the replacement building commemorates those who died whilst on the opposite side of the road another small plaque set in the pavement reputedly marks the very spot where the missile fell. 

Glenn Miller’s Army Air Force Band had been billeted at Sloane Court but had moved to RAF Twinwood near Bedford, the day before the V-1 struck. Concerned for the safety of his band, Miller had insisted on the move due to the number of V-1s falling in the vicinity at this time and faced with a lack of US Army transport – the local Motor Pool refused to work on a Sunday – he made a deal with the RAF to transport him and his band in return for performing a concert for the RAF personnel at the band’s new base. Thanks to his intuition, Miller undoubtedly saved his band from death or serious injury on the following day. As it was, Major Glenn Miller took off in foul weather from RAF Twinwood on December 15th 1944 in a Norseman light aircraft to play a concert in Paris for Allied servicemen but disappeared en route, never to be seen again. 

We left this once melancholy scene which now echoes to the cheerful sound of children playing in the school which today partially occupies the site and continued along Turks Row, turning left at the junction with Franklin’s Row and then right at the junction with Royal Hospital Road. 

The Royal Hospital, Chelsea was founded in 1682 by King Charles II and was intended ‘for the succour and relief of veterans broken by age and war’ and has fulfilled that role ever since, although today’s veterans are anything but broken by age and war being usually very sprightly ambassadors for the British Army. 

Royal Hospital Roll of Honour (author's photo)

Today, female as well as male pensioners are allowed – the qualification being that ‘in-pensioners’ as they are called, must be former Non Commissioned Officers or Soldiers of the British Army in receipt of an Army or War Service Pension who are normally over 65 years of age and who have no obligation to support a partner or family. Prior to the opening of the hospital, no specific provision had ever been made for old and retired soldiers. 

Designed by Sir Christopher Wren, the buildings were completed in 1692 and the first pensioners were admitted in February of that year. Parts of the hospital were damaged by German bombs in 1918, rebuilt in 1923 and damaged again during the Second World War. The hospital and grounds suffered extensive damage during this conflict, being bombed over 20 times starting in the early days of the Blitz in September 1940, right through to almost the end when a V-2 rocket fell in the grounds on 3rd January 1945 with the loss of 4 lives and 28 injured. 

The worst incident was on the night of 16th/17th April 1941, when the Infirmary was destroyed by a Parachute Mine with the loss of 15 lives and a further 50 serious injuries; the oldest of those in-pensioners killed was Henry Rattray, who was 101 years of age and a veteran of the Zulu Wars.

The Infirmary designed by Sir John Soane had been added in 1809 and is now the site of the National Army Museum. The idea of this museum was first conceived in the late 1950s by Field Marshal Sir Gerald Templar and was originally located at Sandhurst, home of the Royal Military Academy. The present location was chosen as a more central venue for the Museum and construction of the building was commenced in 1961 but took ten years to complete, with the present Museum opening to the public on November 11th 1971. Most of the fundraising for the construction of this building was undertaken personally by Sir Gerald Templar. This Museum, which is currently closed for an extensive refurbishment, is scheduled to re-open in 2016 and if it lives up to it's former incarnation, will continue to be well worth a visit.

We continued along Royal Hospital Road, walking towards the Thames Embankment, until we reached Cheyne Place, a terrace of houses and apartment blocks on the right hand side of the road. On the night of 16th/17th April 1941, a Parachute Mine detonated in the street, destroying or severely damaging numbers 25-43 and causing many casualties, including 3 AFS Firemen who were killed at the scene and whose names are commemorated on a plaque at Kings Road Fire Station, which we passed later in the walk. Like all London Fire Brigade and AFS Stations, Cheyne Place was given it's own unique alpha-numeric code and perhaps one of the AFS firefighters of the time had been a stonemason or sculptor in his civilian life, because the code letters '6W', the designated code for the Fire Station remains visible to this day, carved neatly into the stonework of one of the buildings concerned.

Station 6W of the AFS at 19/21 Cheyne Place (author's photo)

We continued along Royal Hospital Road and turned right into Christchurch Street before embarking on a walk through some of the most peaceful side roads to be found in Central London, eventually finding ourselves at the junction with Cheyne Row, where we paused outside The Church of Our Most Holy Redeemer, which was the scene of another serious wartime incident. 

In common with many other London churches during wartime, the crypt (the entrance to which was at 21 Upper Cheyne Row) was used as a Public Air Raid Shelter. On the night of  September 14th 1940, between 80 and 100 people were sheltering inside when a HE Bomb crashed through the West Window and the floor, exploding in the crypt. Sadly, 23 of those sheltering including the Shelter Warden, Bert Thorpe, were killed in the explosion and the ensuing fire which was one of the worst incidents in the borough of Chelsea. 

Josephine Oakman was a young Air Raid Warden who kept a diary, which is now in the possession of the Royal Borough of Kensington & Chelsea's Archives. Her entry for this date makes heart rending reading:

"18:27 - Bomb on Holy Redeemer. Got sent off by Bert Thorpe on bike patrol in Glebe Place and had hardly got away when HE sailed through church window, through crypt floor to cellar where it exploded against some strutting among 80 odd people. I got knocked off the bike. A second knocked me down again and a third sent a brick onto my tin hat. I went to Holy Redeemer and set to work on stirrup pumps. The cries and groans were awful. God help them all. We took 12 dead and put them in the garden by the church as it was getting dark. I think my heart broke this night over the sights I have seen today."

Despite this direct hit, the church which was consecrated in 1895, was not badly damaged and continued in use as a church and a shelter, with permanent repairs being completed by 1962. 

After some reflection, we left this now peaceful backwater and proceeded along Cheyne Row until we reached the junction with Cheyne Walk where we turned right, following the River Thames upstream. After turning right into Cheyne Walk, we reached Chelsea Old Church, located appropriately on the corner of Old Church Street and set in its own small garden. 

Memorial to Yvonne Green (author's photo)

 

Memorial at Roper's Garden (author's photo)

Today, the Church Garden with its statue of Thomas More and Roper’s Garden opposite the Church form a peaceful oasis away from the incessant flow of traffic along Chelsea Embankment but as can be seen from the two plaques on the walls of Roper’s Gardens, it becomes clear that on the night of  April 16th/17th 1941, this area was anything but an oasis of peace. The plaque located overlooking Chelsea Embankment tells us that Roper’s Garden is built on land formerly occupied by buildings destroyed during the raid on that night, whilst the plaque located in Old Church Street is erected by the charity ‘Firemen Remembered’ and commemorates the life of Yvonne Green, a 30 year old Canadian Auxiliary Fire Service (AFS) Fire Watcher killed on the same night along with four of her colleagues. 

Memorial inside the rebuilt Chelsea Old Church (author's photo)

We covered Yvonne's story in the April 2011 edition of this blog but suffice to say that Yvonne Green and four of her five Fire Watching colleagues were killed and Chelsea Old Church almost completely destroyed, when two Parachute Mines detonated in close proximity on this terrible night. Yvonne was another prolific writer - this time in the form of letters to her Mother, safely back home in Canada and what proved to be her last letter home, dated just two days before her death, makes poignant reading:

"The Blitz hasn't affected London now for some days now or nights. I should say now but I think it's a fair assumption to say that it is purely temporary and we'll be getting it again soon - maybe."

From this now tranquil scene, we proceeded north along Lawrence Street and eventually turned right into Kings Road. Proceeding along this busy thoroughfare, we passed the recently closed Chelsea Fire Station at the junction with Dovehouse Street. Another of the commemorative plaques erected by ‘Firemen Remembered’ adorns this building and we paused here to remember the sacrifices made by these men over the years, not only in wartime but also as recently as 1968. We had already passed the site of those killed at Cheyne Place, whilst the location of those killed at Chelsea Square is somewhat to the rear of the Fire Station we were standing by, with Brompton Road and St Stephens Hospital to the north of our position. The present day Chelsea & Westminster Hospital is on the site of the old St Stephens Hospital which was seriously damaged in December 1944 by a V-2 rocket. 

Chelsea Fire Station plaque (author's photo)

 

From the Fire Station, we continued a short distance along Kings Road until we reached the pleasant open space known as Dovehouse Green. On the wall of the old Town Hall building, we saw two memorials, one to the Civilian War Dead of the people of Chelsea and the other, a small brass plaque that commemorates two members of the Heavy Rescue Service, Anthony Smith GC and Albert Littlejohn BEM. 

The George Cross is the highest civilian award for bravery and therefore not given lightly, so the story of these two men is worth recounting. Anthony Smith was a chimney sweep by trade who had fought in the Royal Marines during The Great War and had lost three fingers of one hand on The Somme in 1917. He had tried to re-enlist on the outbreak of war in 1939 but his injury precluded this and so instead had joined the Heavy Rescue Service based at Chatham, Kent. On the night of 23rd February 1944, during the so-called 'Little Blitz', a lone raider dropped two bombs which were possibly aimed at Lots Road Power Station but which missed and instead fell on The Guinness Trust buildings on the corner of Edith Grove and Kings Road. Both blocks collapsed and Anthony Smith soon arrived with the Heavy Rescue Squad. Many people were trapped in the rubble and Smith heard the cries of one of them, a baker called Sam Mitchell who was trapped in the basement. Smith entered the basement through a gap in the rubble, which soon after he entered collapsed, trapping him also. 

Tony Smith persevered and soon found Mitchell in the rubble, freed him and dragged him to the rear of the building where he broke through a wall to safety. Without thinking of his own safety, Smith then joined his colleague Albert Littlejohn and re-entered the basement, which by this time was flooding with water from a broken main and rescued a woman who they helped to safety. 

Smith and his colleagues worked all night freeing victims and recovering bodies. In all, 76 people died that night but many others were rescued thanks to Anthony Smith and his colleagues from the Heavy Rescue Squad. He was awarded the George Cross in May 1944 and made a Freeman of the Borough of Chelsea in June of the same year. A fuller account of Tony Smith's story appeared in the February 2012 edition of this blog.

Dovehouse Green memorials (author's photo)

From this modest but inspiring memorial, we returned to Kings Road and turned left at the traffic lights into Sydney Street and entered the delightful gardens adjoining Parish Church of St Luke’s. This church was damaged on 16th October 1940 by an incendiary bomb in the belfry which was brought under control before too much damage was caused and also by a HE Bomb on St Luke’s School (now the Church Hall) which severely damaged the eastern end of the church buildings generally. This end of the church still shows considerable signs of shrapnel damage and also some repaired areas of masonry. The churchyard had also been the scene of an unexploded bomb on 15th October 1940 which was rendered safe by the Bomb Disposal Squad. The church, which was designed by James Savage and consecrated on 18th October 1824, is the largest and tallest parish church in London. It is also the home to several interesting war memorials from both World Wars including the 3rd Gurkha Rifles, 140th Field Ambulance Royal Army Medical Corps, various units of The Royal Engineers and the 51st London Heavy A.A. Regiment. In more recent times, the church has been a frequent location for film makers and was perhaps most notably a location for ‘Four Weddings and a Funeral.’

Coming towards the end of our walk, we headed towards Draycott Avenue, at which point we continued ahead for a few metres, entering Cadogan Street with the Guinness Trust Buildings to our right hand side. We took the time to peer into the pedestrian entrance into this estate. Underneath the covered walkway entrance, just off Cadogan Street, it was possible to see a delightful memorial to the men of Draycott Avenue who died during an earlier conflict, The Great War of 1914-18. It was hand written and simply titled ‘Our Roll of Honour’ and even after almost 100 years, our group still found it intensely moving to see this simple memorial to the men of an ordinary street in west London. 

"Our Roll of Honour" - Draycott Avenue (author's photo)

As always, there is much more to see on one of our walks and even a description of walk such as this, does not compare with actually "walking the ground", so come along one of these days - you will be surprised as to what can still be seen of our wartime history.

Published Sources: 

London Transport at War – Charles Graves, LPTB 1947 

The Story of London’s Underground – John R Day & John Reed, Capital Transport 2001 

Blitz – MJ Gaskin, Faber & Faber 2005 

Ordinary Heroes – David Walker & Roger Morgan, the Royal Borough of Kensington & Chelsea 2005 

A Guide to St Luke’s Church Chelsea – Clare Johnston, privately published 1999 

Unpublished Sources: 

Metropolitan Borough of Chelsea ARP Incident Log 1940-45 

Extracts from Josephine Oakman's Diary

 

One night in Greenwich & Woolwich

When looking back at the London Blitz, it is sometime difficult for the average person to always understand the extent of the damage caused to London (and to other towns and cities in the UK) and that interspersed with the major incidents that grabbed the headlines, there were many more mundane happenings during an average night, that occurred night in and night out but which had to be dealt with all the same and which had an impact to a greater or lesser extent on those who happened to be there at the time. The actual purpose of today's offering is to take a snapshot of a typical night during the Blitz and to show readers the number of incidents on such a night, the nature of them and how they were reported and acted upon by the Civil Defence services.

Anyone who reads this blog on a regular basis will know that this writer hails from Greenwich and so for the sake of example, we will look at the Incident Logs for this borough and for neighbouring Woolwich, which are absolutely typical of those across the capital and indeed across the whole of Great Britain.

Civil Defence Organization for Greenwich

Let us start with a brief description as to how incidents were reported and at the Civil Defence organization across the country. The United Kingdom was divided into regions for Civil Defence, under the overall control of the Minister of Home Security, who for the majority of the War, was Mr Herbert Morrison. Each region was under the control of a Civil Commissioner, responsible for the Civil Defence arrangements of the region. London was designated Region 5 and for the bulk of the War, the Civil Commissioner was Admiral Sir Edward Evans. The accompanying 'chain of command' chart gives an idea of the awesome responsibility held by the Civil Commissioner and of the huge number of services under his control.

London Civil Defence Organization

London was further sub-divided into Civil Defence Groups, each under the control of (usually) the Chief Executive of the relevant local authority; the inner London Boroughs formed Groups 1-5, whilst the outer London Boroughs and Urban/Rural Districts formed Groups 6-9, again as shown in the accompanying chart. The Chief Executive was the Civil Defence Controller for his or her borough including the control of incidents through the network of ARP Wardens, who acted as control officers to coordinate the efforts of the rescue services. In London, the Fire, Ambulance and Rescue services were all supplied by the London County Council, or LCC but were under the direct operational control of the Civil Defence Controller. Despite the seeming complexity of the system, it was basically a sound system that ran efficiently and smoothly.

Having established how London's Civil Defence was organized, let us now look at how the system worked in practice.

Typical incident report for Woolwich (author's collection)

As mentioned above, the Air Raid Precautions (ARP) Wardens were the essential link between events happening 'on the ground' and how they were dealt with. The Wardens were on patrol at all times during an 'alert' when the sirens had sounded. The wardens wore a basic uniform of a blue boiler suit, with the ubiquitous 'tin helmet' to provide their only protection against flying debris and shrapnel. Their 'badge of office' was a small silver 'ARP' badge worn proudly on the lapel which along with the 'W' on their steel helmets signified that these brave men and women, largely volunteers and many of whom were of 'a certain age' were the vital cog in the Civil Defence machinery. The wardens usually patrolled in pairs and when they came upon an incident, which on busy nights were only too commonplace, the younger and fitter of the pair was detailed to report back to the nearby Wardens' Post, where the Chief Warden for the Post would arrange for the required services and then phone details of the incident back to the Borough Control, usually located in the basement of the local Town Hall. There, the Duty Controller would record the incident on a sheet of paper as shown, which would then either be transcribed into a ledger for future reference, or filed as loose sheets. Each incident would be updated until deemed 'closed.'

Let us now look at a typical night in Greenwich and Woolwich and the sequence of events on the night of 5th/6th October 1940. During the day, the Luftwaffe had attacked targets in Kent and also Southampton, no doubt the Supermarine works, where the all-important Spitfires were being produced. By night, the targets switched to airfields in East Anglia and to London, which had been the focus of attention since September 7th. The weather had been bright during the day but with increasingly frequent showers in most areas.

The first incident recorded in Greenwich was at 00:25 on the 6th October, which was a report of Incendiary Bombs dropped in the grounds of Trinity Hospital, Greenwich which were extinguished by wardens without the need for the Fire Brigade to get involved. Incidents 2 & 3 are recorded at 01:45 and 01:50 at Siemens' Works and at 19 Heringham Road and again involved incendiaries, which were dealt with by the AFS (Auxiliary Fire Service) and by a Stirrup Pump Party respectively. Incident 4 was recorded at 02:15 as a High Explosive (HE) Bomb that fell harmlessly on open ground in Charlton Park Lane opposite Siemens Sports Ground. This must have been a relatively quiet night in Greenwich as the next incident is not recorded until 03:00 and demonstrates amply that not all incidents were of the Luftwaffe's making. The log records that 51 Haddo House in Claremont Street was struck by an Anti-Aircraft shell, proving the theory that "What goes up, must come down." Fortunately, on this occasion, no casualties were reported, although these 'friendly fire' incidents as they would be called nowadays, could sometimes have tragic consequences. There is then a long gap before the next incident is reported, almost certainly after the 'All Clear' had sounded and when people went out in the light of day to discover what had happened. This is recorded at 08:30 by the Cricket Pavilion in Charlton Park, which had been damaged by a HE Bomb - could this be the consequences of Incident 4, first reported at 02:15? Sadly, we shall never know. The next incidents follow the same pattern, being an unexploded AA shell at 08:37 in a field at the rear of 260 Wricklemarsh Road, then at 10:04, a UXB was reported at the RAF Depot in Kidbrooke Park Road, before finishing with the last incident reported at 10.24 at Angerstein's Wharf with the discovery of no fewer than 3 HE bombs and an incendiary for good measure. So ended a quiet-ish day in Greenwich.

Nearest ARP Warden (Author's collection)

Across the borough boundary in Woolwich, things were slightly busier. The first incident was reported at 20:35 on the evening of the 5th October with a HE Bomb in Queenscroft Road, Eltham which blocked the road between Eltham Hill and Queenscroft Road. This was quickly followed at 20:37 by an Oil Bomb at 99 Montbelle Road, which was soon extinguished. Incident 3, reported at the same time saw 3 x HE Bombs fall upon numbers 68 and 70 Eltham Hill. Not surprisingly, both houses were demolished, with others nearby being heavily damaged as well as Eltham Hill itself being blocked. Fortunately, in all of these incidents, no casualties were recorded. The next incident is missing from the log, so we shall never know what this refers to, whilst number 5 saw a HE Bomb fall harmlessly into a field on the western side of Crouch Croft. Another Oil Bomb, this time at 305 Green Lane, Eltham saw minor damage to a fence before it was dealt with by the Fire Brigade. A short lull then ensued before the action switched to Woolwich proper. A flurry of incidents starting at 23:49 saw clusters of incendiary bombs falling in Ferry Approach, Woolwich Dockyard, Warspite Road, Woolwich Church Street, Sunbury Street, Chapel Street and the Commonwealth Buildings. Fires were reported at all of these incidents but were eventually brought under control without casualties. A grimmer entry then ensues at 04:37 on the 6th October, when a HE Bomb is reported at 121 Crescent Road. The ominous words 'Mortuary Van required - 2 fatal casualties' appears and brings home to the casual reader the true meaning of the Blitz and of the bombing of civilians in general. Further HE bombs are reported at 40 St Margaret's Terrace, Old Mill Road and Woolwich Arsenal Station, which caused both lines to be blocked and repair gangs called out. Fortunately, as the 6th October was a Sunday, not too much inconvenience would have been caused to the travelling public, who presumably would have had better things to worry about in any case. The final Woolwich incident of the night's activities is number 14 and records another HE Bomb, this time at 193 Burrage Road and reminds us of another facet of the Civil Defence service; the occupant of the house was unharmed, though not surprisingly suffering from shock, but having lost her home and many of her possessions, the log notes that 'storage for furniture required.' Wherever property could be salvaged and made safe from looters, then it would be kept in storage until the bombed-out residents could be rehoused.

Repairing the damage in Woolwich Road (Author's collection)

So ended a moderate night's Blitz in Greenwich and Woolwich. Compared with September 7th 1940 and other nights still to come, the events of October 5th/6th were small beer indeed to the people of southeast London.

If you'd like to find out more about the Blitz, the V-Weapons and the effects of the war in general on Greenwich, I will be guiding a walk around Blackheath and Greenwich on Sunday October 12th, starting at 11:00am outside All Saints' Church Blackheath - for further details and how to book, visit our main website at http://www.blitzwalkers.co.uk/dates.html


Published Sources:

The Narrow Margin - Derek Wood with Derek Dempster, Tri-Service Press 1990

Unpublished Sources:

Metropolitan Borough of Greenwich Civil Defence Incident Log
Metropolitan Borough of Woolwich Civil Defence Incident Log

Original documents held in Greenwich Heritage Centre - transcribed by the author

A - Z of the Blitz (B)

Apart from Blitz, B is for Barrage Balloons. these bulbous, ungainly creatures have become one of the stock images of the Second World War, usually sitting passively as if waiting in vain for something to happen, the balloons actually served as a lethal deterrent to low flying aircraft and indirectly saved many lives during the war. 

The balloon barrage in Eltham, SE London (Greenwich Heritage Centre)

Tethered to the ground by steel cables, the purpose of the balloons was mainly to deter low flying aircraft, especially at the start of the war, the dreaded Stuka dive bombers, which had caused so much havoc during the Blitzkrieg attacks on Poland and later France and the Low Countries. In reality, the Stukas were of little use to the Luftwaffe in attacks over the UK; against determined opposition equipped with modern single engined fighters such as the Spitfire and Hurricane, the Ju-87 Stukas were easy meat and they were soon withdrawn from attacks on the UK during the Battle of Britain and took no part in the Blitz. The balloons however, continued to be useful cogs in the defensive machine. Because the height of the tethering cables could be adjusted, they served a useful purpose, along with the anti-aircraft guns in forcing the German bombers to fly at higher altitudes, thus reducing their accuracy. Barrage balloons could also be mounted in a more mobile role, fixed to trucks which enabled them to be deployed to different areas much more quickly than the conventional, ground tethered variety. Balloons were also used in great numbers at sea and footage of the great Allied invasions such as Salerno and Normandy sees the ubiquitous balloons tethered to landing craft and other vessels in an effort to deter low flying fighters from strafing the Allied vessels. 

Back on land, the balloons once again came to the forefront of British defences during the V-1 Flying Bomb attacks of 1944. Hurriedly redeployed to a ribbon of defences inside the coast, the balloons were ranged at a suitable altitude to bring down the V-1s, which being pilotless, tended to fly at a fixed course and height. They were thought to be responsible for bringing down some 230 Flying Bombs, although the Germans did counter this by fitting wire cutting devices to the leading edges of the V-1's wings. Even so, the balloons in their own small way helped slow the onslaught of these weapons on the capital.

Occasionally, these usually inert monsters broke loose from their moorings and the various Civil Defence incident logs reported damage to chimneys and other property caused by these cables becoming wrapped around protruding brickwork and already partially damaged houses and no doubt causing some light relief for their Army 'crews' from Balloon Command who were responsible for looking after them.

B also stands for Bombs and Bomb Disposal. We shall examine the various types of bombs when their turn comes in the alphabet, suffice to say that the Luftwaffe used high explosive bombs of various sizes, ranging from small 100 kgs, right up to the 1000 kgs 'Hermann', so called by the British because of it's portly appearance, said to be reminiscent of Hermann Goring. They also used the small 1 kg incendiary bomb and the much larger 500 kgs and 1000 kgs Parachute Mine, adapted from naval mines into fearsome airburst weapons.

A German 500kg bomb at the Royal Hospital, Chelsea (author's photo)

Disposal of the large numbers of 'dud' bombs or UXBs as they became known took a special kind of courage and many examples of heroism occurred during the Blitz by various members of the Bomb Disposal teams, many of whom paid the ultimate price. The disposal and defusing of most bombs was the responsibility of the Army's Royal Engineers, whilst the Parachute Mines, with their naval heritage, became the job of the Royal Navy to deal with. Perhaps two of the most famous pieces of bomb disposal came at St Paul's Cathedral in September 1940, which was described in the September 2011 edition of this blog, whilst and example of the Senior Service's efforts was described in June 2010 when we learned of the exploits of Sub Lieut. Jack Easton RNVR and his assistant Ordinary Seaman Bennett Southwell for their part in attempting to defuse a parachute mine in Hoxton, East London in October 1940. Both of these incidents earned the bomb disposal teams well earned George Crosses, in Southwell's case, posthumously.

B is for Blackout and one of the major raisons d'etre of the Air Raid Wardens described in the previous edition of this blog. On the outbreak of war, an immediate blackout was imposed across the whole of the United Kingdom. This effectively meant the extinguishing, or covering of every exterior light, or interior light that could be seen through an unguarded window. Today, even those of us who live in the country and are used to 'proper' darkness without street lighting, cannot really imagine what it is like to have absolutely no lights visible outside, for even in the countryside towns and villages, we are now used to seeing interior lights spilling over into the darkness. In 1939, all this stopped; windows had to be covered with thick blackout curtains, or even painted over; streetlights and traffic lights were extinguished and those few of the latter which were allowed to remain were so hooded as to be almost invisible to those few vehicles still on the road. Vehicle headlamps were masked and covered to such an extent as to almost useless and interiors lights on buses and trains were removed and replaced with tiny blue lights, laughably known as 'reading lamps' which in reality were next to useless. The glazed roofs of railway stations were painted over and lights extinguished, whilst steam trains and electric locomotives and trams equipped with spark arrestors to try and cut down on the tell-tale sparks visible from the air. To add a measure of compensation, kerbstones, traffic bollards, lamp posts and even tree trunks were painted with black and white stripes to try and reflect what little light there was available from either the Moon or from the reduced lighting from the few vehicles on the road. 

ARP Notice & Lighting restrictions (author's photo)

The result of all this was chaos. Before the onset of the Blitz, there were more casualties caused by road traffic accidents than by German bombs and during the so called Phoney War period, the stock of the Air Raid Wardens dipped in the eyes of the British public as the Wardens were quick to pounce on anyone forgetful enough to put in place their Blackout curtains, or to open a door without first extinguishing the light inside the house. The familiar cry of "Put that light out!" now made immortal by Mr Hodges of Dad's Army was not wholly the stuff of comedy fiction. The British public endured the Blackout for 5 long years, until it was replaced on September 17th 1944 by the less stringent 'Dim Out', which recognised that the threat from manned German bombers was all but over but which also acknowledged that the V-1 and V-2 were no respecter of the Blackout

B is also for 'Black Saturday.' This was the name given by Londoners to Saturday, 7th September 1940, which is seen as being the first day of the Blitz on London. Up until this point in time, although London had been brushed by German bombs, these had mainly been in the outskirts of the capital and for the most part incidental to attacks on industrial targets or RAF airfields in the London suburbs. All this began to change when on the night of 24th/25th August, a flight of German bombers, supposedly due to a navigational error, dropped bombs on the north of London and the City, with the first bomb falling in Moorgate at around 12:15 a.m. on the 25th August. Churchill immediately ordered a retaliatory attack on Berlin and although the RAF at that time were ill equipped to launch a meaningful attack on the German capital, the resulting minor damage caused by two raids was sufficient for Hitler to order the Luftwaffe to switch it's attacks from the RAF's airfields to London.

Fires from the burning Surrey Docks - 7th Sept 1940 (National Archives)

When the sirens sounded a little after 4.30 pm on September 7th, it was the precursor of  57 continuous nights of bombing and a Night Blitz that would last, for London, until the night of 10th/11th May 1941. On that first afternoon of the Blitz, the RAF was initially but on this rare occasion, caught off guard and nearly one thousand bombers and fighters found their targets, mainly in the East End but also causing grievous damage to the Woolwich Arsenal and devastating the Surrey Commercial Docks, some parts of which were never fully utilised again. The bombers returned that evening, guided by the fires lit by their earlier sorties. Casualties were high amongst the civilian population, with some four hundred being killed with many more wounded.

Although these initial attacks were focused on the eastern side of the capital, gradually the attacks crept westwards, until eventually no part of London was left untouched.

Next time, we shall look at the letter 'C' including Cabs, Coventry and Churchill.

A - Z of The Blitz (A)

ARP Warden's badge (author's photo)

Today, we start what is intended to be an occasional and by no means exhaustive series looking at the Blitz and Battle of Britain on an alphabetical basis. Today, we look at the letter 'A' to see what we can find.

A is for ARP, or Air Raid Precautions. Today, when we think of ARP, we think perhaps of the eponymous Wardens personified in comedy by Chief Warden Hodges from Dad's Army, played by Bill Pertwee but in reality, ARP was a generic term initiated at the time of the Munich Crisis of 1938, when the possibility of war was first brought home to the majority of the British public.

The 1938 Munich Crisis saw a huge expansion of this country's Civil Defence services and saw the establishment of the ARP Wardens' service, who under local municipal control had responsibility for enforcing the blackout and acting as 'first responders' whilst on patrol during even the heaviest air raids. With the approval of the Government, there was even an Air Raid Precautions set of cigarette cards issued by the Imperial Tobacco Company which detailed such ARP related functions as creating a gas-proofed room within a house, protecting windows against blast, dealing with incendiary bombs, wearing gas masks and the balloon barrage. The card depicting a member of the public dealing with an incendiary bomb using just a garden rake and a dustpan beggars belief!

ARP Cigarette Card book (author's photo)

How to deal with an incendiary bomb (author's photo)

The public perception of the ARP Warden changed almost overnight once the Luftwaffe switched their attentions to bombing British cities. Before the war and during the so-called 'Phoney War' period, the wardens had been seen in much the same way as we see Mr Hodges today, in other words as self-important 'jobsworth' characters whose main function in life was to shout at people to "Put that light out!" or "Cover that window!"

Once the air raids started in earnest however, the view changed and the wardens were widely respected for their courage in patrolling in all conditions and for their selfless attitude. Wardens, both male and female were almost all volunteers and many could be described as being 'of a certain age. An inspection of the accompanying photograph of a group of Lewisham Wardens reveals many of the male wardens to be wearing Great War medal ribbons. 

Members of Lewisham Post G108 (author's collection)

A also stands for Anti-Aircraft.  In London, as in most major British towns and cities, anti-aircraft guns were placed on just about every large piece of parkland or other suitable open space. Therefore, in the capital guns sprouted on places such as Blackheath, Woolwich Common, Southwark Park, Wanstead Flats and even Hyde Park. As with most war materials in Britain, anti-aircraft guns were in desperately short supply at the outset of the war and the situation was hardly improved by the British Expeditionary Force having to leave nearly all of it's anti-aircraft guns behind when they hurriedly evacuated from France in May and June 1940. The respite afforded to British cities by the Battle of Britain allowed stocks to be built up again and by the beginning of the Blitz, a measure of protection could be provided.

3.7" Anti-aircraft guns in Hyde Park (author's collection)

At first, the guns mainly provided a morale booster for the civilians huddled in the shelters. With the Luftwaffe switching to night area bombing and without radar control for the guns, accuracy was poor and the most that could be hoped for, apart from the occasional hit, was to force the German bombers to fly higher. On the basis of 'What goes up, must come down', there was at least as much chance of being hit by shrapnel from spent anti-aircraft shells as by a German bomb but recognising the importance of being seen by the British public to be firing back at the bombers, Churchill ordered General Sir Frederick Pile, commanding Anti Aircraft Command, to "Keep on Blazing Away."

Anti-aircraft rockets on Blackheath (Greenwich Heritage Centre)

The mainstay of Anti Aircraft Command was the excellent 3.7 inch gun, although both heavier and lighter weapons were used, as well as a brief flirtation with rocket projectiles which was not a success. As the war developed, radar control for the guns was developed and improved upon, as was the new proximity shell that detonated within a short distance of it's aerial target without actually having to impact  it. These new developments greatly improved the effectiveness of the anti aircraft guns. These developments, coupled with the Airborne Intercept (AI) Radar equipped night fighter force, demonstrated to the Luftwaffe upon their return to London in 1943/44 how things had changed since the dark days of the Blitz of 1940/41.

Next time, we shall take a look at the letter 'B' to include Barrage Balloons, Bomb Disposal, the Blackout, the BBC and 'Black Saturday.'

Published Sources:

Air Raid Precautions: An Album to contain a series of Cigarette Cards of National Importance - WD & HO Wills, 1938

The Most Dangerous Enemy - Stephen Bungay, Aurum Press, 2001