AIR RAIDS ON LONDON

Evening Star, Issue 16629, 11 January 1918, Page 8

AIR RAIDS ON LONDON

' ' , Dunedin business man has gersirom.; a relative the following interesting of the October air raids over - ' London : . *\ However shall I describe to you dear folk in the far off and out-of-the-war-zone ' : ■ country the experiences of us at home on ,};■ Jh® ‘‘London front.” Truly, we have in : , a .small measure been given a glimpse of war and its horrors in the last few days, and that by six air raids in eight days. \on will read in your own papers of them weeks before this reaches you, and "'ill no doubt try to imagine it all, but you won’t be able to until you have been hi an air raid—that I can assure you. Well, we have just thought, talked, and lived raid for more than a week past, so, naturally, I begin to write raid. It began on a Monday evening. Just ns • we were thinking of supper (8.5) there was a distant sound of guns. I went to the. garden to listen, and then I ran upstairs to take survey. From the nursery window due east I could see,star shells racing upward, and in a few minutes a , • bombardment began such as was never heard in, England before. We all assembled in the kitchen, and for 55 minutes the guns roared and the noise was appalling. A new gun began with awful crashes such as we had never heard. That we found afterwards was the new Mobile gun, that rushes round on a motor from place to place. We had one by Emanuel Chnrch and another in Leigham Court road. Shells were bursting above us and shrapnel falling everywhere. Once we heard the sound of the Huns’ planes (the Gothas). was kept late in the town that evening, so was caught on his way home. He spent three hours 'in the tube at Stockwell, and finally had t» walk from there, arriving at 12L20, Ah 1-20 we went to bed. On Tuesday evening we went to the hall for a children’s meeting, and had about 50 children there. Just before the ■ close of address I went to the door and found that two mothers had come for their children. A warning was out; so, . entreating them to stay outside to keep things quiet for fear of panic. I got to close immediately, and sent the children row by row to the door. They were all got out without alarm, except to myself, who saw from the steps the star shells in the ‘ distance, and just as the last of the children were leaving again the storm burst. Shells and shrapnel were raining round, and there were terrific explosions from falling bombs, accompanied by huge flashes of light. The children had all got safely in their homes, so we others turned out the lights, except for one jet, and sat in a row on the platform with onr backs to the wall, six helpless souls, seemingly surrounded by fiends. I cannot possibly describe the horrible din as it sounded to ns in that big empty hall, which seemed to echo and vibrate—in fact, almost rock. Fortunately for us, the .enemy did not give us such a dose that night; we were only held up about half an hour. You will see by the record how that week was passed, but Saturday surpassed everything. Our gunners were marvellous, and thousands of shells were fired that night. London was ringed with a barrage of fire which was kept up. I made several ascents to the upstairs windows, much against the will pf the ground-floor occupants, but I couldn’t help it; the wonder and awe of it drew me to see with my eyes the cause of the terrible sounds, and I was just thrilled at the sight. I feel perfectly calm as I watch, whereas I tremble wben shut up below listening to the unknown. This I cannot explain, and would far rather stay here in it all than go for shelter to crypt or dugout. That night the Gothas were flying above ns, out we were in far more danger from duv own shells. As I went up to the hall the next morning to take morning school men and boys were bunting around for shrapnel, and passing St. Luke’s I heard a man say : “ This is where one bnsted !” Immediately a small crowd went on their hands and knees grovelling in the vrass for the treasure. The first 10 minutes of school was spent in listening to the various tales of the children—how “mother carried me downstairs-and I sat on her lap in the Kitchen ; how “we stayed up all night, and haven’t been undressed ” ; or “ my big sister didn’t come home, and father went , to look for her—she was all the time in the Tulse Hill tunnel.” Later we heard that a shell had landed in Dunbar street. Another had passed through a grave in the cemetery, and stopped its career m a second grave by exploding and smashing both headstones in the upheaval. Two days later another shell case was found on the floor of the Greek chapel, haviim entered by way of the roof. I held that very gingerly when shown it, not being Ji’-ite sure of its nature. It was strangely aeavy The finder afterwards took it to the police. That night we retired in the early hours of the Sabbath morning. That same evening the meeting was begun at 6.30 and closed at 7.15, and only just in time, for at 7.35 again the warning was sounded, and the bombardment began Wo were thankful that there had been just time for people to get safely homo. Picture us on a Sunday evening, when in the usual .way we should have been listening to an address in the Hall, nowassembled in the kitchen, shutters and curtains close drawn .to beep every ray of light in. Well, we survived it. and the worst and last the following evening. The guns in North London were beyond description, and the Hvde Park gun ended its glorious career by “busting,” as the men said. . hj There are always grumblers, and Certainly we have a, had habit of being late with everything and slow- to move, bu‘ when we do it is thorough most times. I think it is most wonderful what has been done in this war, and how quickly difficulties unheard or undreamt of have been met and overcome. lam proud of my country and my people, in suite of their faults. One learns by experience, and we are having the experiences now. I suppose you have heard of the warning on **Pyjama Sunday” and its amusing consequences. July 22 will long be remembered by Londoners. There had been a strong demand on the part of the public for ade- , quate warning of a coming raid, and various methods were suggested and tried. Late one Saturday afternoon the authorities thought they had discovered “the

ymug ax last, ana tne.pnbiic were to be in formed of the new method by the Sunday editions and Monday’s papers. Meani while “ the thing ” was prepared, for action, ready for the next raid. On July 22 I wasjust leaving the house when a _ terrifying bang sent me almost reeling in. The sounds seemed to get nearer and nearer. I went to peep from a window to see if there was anything visible over London, when just as I got there something seemed to burst before my eyes with an appalling noise, and ] hurried down to the others, quite believing the Huns were upon us. For about ten minutes these explosions continued, and then all was still, and soon after I ventured out again. Passing the police sta tion, I found assembled quite 50 “ specials,’ some standing by their cycles, others or foot, all waiting instructions; while altnosl every door on the hill -was open, and thf occupant of the house talking with tin next-door neighbor. No more firing was heard, and, comim back an hour later with the children, saw for the first time a constable wifi the “All clear’ notice, riding breathlessb • up Knight’s Hill, and found the crowd o ' dispersing in all directions iron the police station. Everyone believed wi ■' • had come through a very bad raid, and i was not until the evening papers of th ' next day that we learned it was only ; warning! Never had we heard such a row The thing decided upon had been thre maroons err fire rockets sent out from eacl fire station within the metropolitan axei simultaneously; but, not being practise in the art, what really happened was tha 173 fire stations fired three shots apiec indiscriminately, regardless of time, s . you can imagine the result more &isil; "than I can describe it. One man said t me afterwards: “I was in Covent Garde when they bombed London in June, and a Liverpool street station when they bombe that; but it was nothing to the warnin "> which I heard at Croydon, and I said t myself: ‘The Huns have done London i this time; there’s can’t be much left.’” expect you saw ‘ Punch,’ where one partne in . an office imploringly ears: “ Let m get in (to the safe) for the warning, an til carry on for the raid.”. It was’nt

bit overdone, but described what we all felt. We have had one warning since (daylight), with very much the same result. I -- — iV “ i '''nine room window when a sudden, terrific bang made my blood run cold. Children in the street screamed, women threw up their hands and gazed at the sky, horses tried to bolt. Altogether there was great fear and confusion. Another bang, another, and then all was still, and gradully people recovered. It was a “ warning.” A proper finish to this raid epistle. ’, t 6r f we are i —°f us—assembled in the I kitchen, while intermittent gun-firing is going on without. I will tell you what happened It is a moonlight evening, and one and another secretly take, a look through the blinds to see whether the is blowing or clouds visible, or whether it is a good night for thkm. We are pleased to see the clouds, anl hope the Huns won’t think it worth while to come, so we go to bed. I am just ready for bed at 11.15, in the act of timing out the gas, when the fire engine I ushos up the road ringing its bell. Ha,-toning to the window to look for other signs, two cyclists were seen, riding quickly, with a red front light, and green rear light—these evidently specials called out: Sign 2. I wait for the next incoming tram to arn\e, and sure enough Sign 3—travelling without lights—settles the conviction that Huns have crossed our coast; so T dress, inwardly strafing the enemy for keeping mo from bed. Only a few minutes passed before star shells were seen in the east. Having waited for more than an hour, I said I would go and listen, and then report. I came back to say that we had better stay downstairs, as, although far off, gunfire was very distinct. Only five minutes later, however, it began verv much nearer, and got louder and louder', and as I write there appears to be a great air battle going on above us. I have been to look, but no shells are going up from below, yet awful bangs are chasing one another in the clouds. As I write hero in the closed kitchen, the engines of the air machines are very plainly heard. One .sounds as heavy as that of a motor omnibus. and are this moment in the wood cupboard under the stairs, with mgs, hot-water bottle, and a candle. They are reading aloud ‘ Edwin Drood.’ I can hear the drone of their voices. November 2.—We’ve survived it; huthow we want to strafe the Hun ! Beginning our night’s sleep at 3.3D, and getting up throe hours later, one doesn’t feel particularly sprightly—only in spirits. We are quite cheerful and of* importance to-day, as our district received particular attention from Fritz last night. The poor things at the post office, just down the road, haven’t a bit of crockery whole in their house. They carried on ‘ this morning, but are closing in the afternoon to clean up the mess and invest in fresh household utensils. A small missile fell in their garden. Considering what the Huns meant, to do and what they actually did it is ludicrous. It was a very determined attack.