A.R.P. WARDEN

Gisborne Herald, Volume LXVII, Issue 20270, 11 June 1940, Page 4

A.R.P. WARDEN

LONDON PREPARING “GETTING USED TO IT” INCI DENTS REHEARSED GISBORNITE’S LETTER “We are having the most glorious weather. It is the loveliest spring I remember since I came to England—the trees and flowers have never been more beautiful. Yet we cannot properly enjoy them. To-day we had our firse air raid rehearsal at the office in Lincoln’s Inn Fields,” writes Miss Joyce Glanville, formerly of Gisborne, to a friend concerning her experiences-; in wartime Britain. “At 10.15 o’clock this morning our telephonist called down the ’phone “Air Raid Warning!” We all collected our gas-masks, some our coats, and out we trooped and in next door to the basement of the College of Surgeons building, where their bombproof shelters are. Our firm has one long tunnel for all our staff of 60, and two other firms have one between them. “We were glad to get out, and felt 'quite squiffy, as we came "out! into the air again. The atmosphere was terrible—and we were only in there about 10 or 15 minutes. And the din! Everyone talking at once. The heads are going to get something done so that we will have more ventilation. Barrage Balloon Goes Up “On Tuesday evening there was great excitement when one of the balloons in the barrage, about a mile and a half away suddenly went up in flames. There was a terrific explosion like a big gun firing, and then the sky was lit up with flames. I believe the balloon was struck by lightning. Like a well-trained air-raid warden, I slept through all the excitement. “I wonder whether I told you about our last A.R.P practice at the post. It was supposedly a gas incident, and 'another warden on duty with me was in charge. She had never done an “incident” before, and clid not know the routine. One of us was sent off to divert, traffic —theoretically—whilst I had to assess damage and casualties. As we were wearing gas masks not properly anti-dimmed (the post had run out of anti-dim) and it was dark with little or no moon, I had a. great time finding casualties. Casualties Are Too Casual “In fact, I found only three out of five. The last two had felt a bit cold lying on the ground, and had found corners out of the wind, and well out of sight, and there they stood. I should have searched more closely. We did everthing wrongly that we possibly could, it seemed; such as walking to 'i'he side of the street where the mustard gas bomb was supposed to ha/e fallen, instead of crossing the street to get upwind and then bearing down on the spot. “However, I did achieve one thing. The first-aid stretcher party came in with- a casualty bandaged, but could not tie the knot in the bandages. So I was told to have a shot, and I managed it, though I have never had anything trickier to do. Can you imagine, in. the light of a wavering torch, with a gas-mask on. trying to tie a reef-knot on a casualty, all the time wearing stiff painted tarpaulin •gloves several sizes too large for me. These gloves have one space for the thumbs, and another large one for the fingers. Things like that have to be done, even though they are difficult, and in as short a time as possible, of course. Townsfolk Interested “A few weeks ago we had to take turns as casualties, and I was assigned a broken thigh, so I was left lying while more urgent cases were attended to first. The only drawback is that the children of the neighbourhood and the inhabitants generally think that these air raid shows are designed especially for their benefit and amusement. They are intensely k interested in the activities of the wardens, and positively gloat over the victims. One learns a great deal from being a casualty, oven if it is only a small degree of patience. “Eric Bayly, who will be remembered by many people in Mangapapa, and particularly by his friends of Knox Church, is stationed near London. and is on a searchlight unit. He is mostly on duty at night. He is a married man with one son, and we see something of him occasionally. “Air raid duties for wardens include overnight watches twice a togli. The first night it is midnight to 4 a.m., and the second night it is 4 a.m. to 8 a.m. On the latter watch, one does not have much time to slip home, have a hasty breakfast, and get ready for the office at 9.30 a.m. It is wonderful, however, how one can get accustomed to broken nights.”