"The plane was
directly above me firing its machine guns. It was so
low I could see the crew"
For nearly 50 years Trevor Castleton
has lived in New Zealand but this “Blitz boy”
still thinks of Norwich as home. And he recalls those
dark days saying: “This is for the benefit of my
own children and grandchildren who have had the privilege
to be born and raised in such a peaceful country as
New Zealand.”
| "The
whole of the city centre around Rampant Horse
Street
seemed to have disappeared"
Firemen with black faces, covered
in dust, exhausted... doing what they could to
save a burning city. “I can only describe
the atmosphere as one of bewilderment,” said
Joyce Arthurton who worked for the fire service
based at Bethel Street during the Norwich Blitz.
She had spent the first raid sheltering and then,
after a sleepless night, reported for duty at
6am.
“Two of our men had not reported back, Sam
Bussey and Len Scrivens. They had been trying
top release horses from a yard in Oak Street.
Sam was killed and Len seriously injured,”
said Joyce. “When you realise there were
only two casualties amongst the men fighting the
fires only protected by a steel helmet it was
a miracle,” she added.
By the time of the second big raid anti-aircraft
guns and barriage balloons had been placed around
the city — but they couldn’t stop the
bombers.
“As I went to my 6am shift on the Thursday
morning I could only gasp at the scenes that met
my eyes. The whole of the city centre around Rampant
Horse Street seemed to have disappeared. There
was a great gaping hole where Curls’ (Debenham’s)
stood,” said Joyce.
“There just wasn’t time to be frightened.
We seemed to be safe in the control room but judging
by all the devastation surrounding us it was a
wonder we did. Walking home was such a strange
experience. So quiet after the noise of the raids.
A smoky smell, the sound of glass under your feet,
pieces of wood everywhere.”
“One call that I took reported that St Paul’s
Church in Cowgate Street was on fire and there
was an unexploded bomb in Barrack Street. Knowing
that my family were in a shelter alongside this
church you can
imagine how frantic I felt.
“As soon as I came off duty I ran all the
way home dreading what I should find but they
were safe. I know of one fireman who passed his
house which was well alight but he was not allowed
to stop as he was on call to another incident
— duty first,” recalls Joyce. |
He writes:
“I was nearly nine in April 1942. We were living
with my grandparents in St John Street, off Rose Lane,
and I was a pupil at Horns Lane School. Already we’d
had several raids on the city. Our street had been hit
and the Orchard pub on the corner of Mountergate had
been destroyed.
“Once I was in the playground at Horns Lane when
we heard a plane diving straight at us. We all rushed
to the air-raid shelter, next to St Julian’s churchyard.
While I was still some distance away from the shelter
one of my plimsolls came off and like a ‘duzy fule’
I stopped to pick it up.
“By then the plane was directly above me firing
its machine guns. It was so low I could see the crew.
I stood rooted to the spot, watching fascinated as it
flashed over.
“We had an Anderson shelter in our back yard. My
sister and I spent many horrible nights in it. It was
always damp and cold. Sometimes I’d wake up during
the night to find one of my old aunts had crawled in
because of a raid.
“There was a brick surface shelter at the back
of our houses and that’s where we were on the first
night of the Blitz. These shelters had four cell-like
compartments, each one allocated to two houses. They
contained two sets of double bunks. During the raid
the din was horrendous and seemed to go on for hours.
Some of the explosions sounded really close, the ground
rocked and we feared our house would be hit.
“I don’t remember being scared, in fact I
tried to go out and watch but was dragged back and given
a clip round the ear. A neighbour said the whole city
was on fire. In my childish ignorance I was quite excited.
I remember hoping that my school would get hit. It eventually
did!
“We emerged from the shelter in the morning and
everybody looked automatically towards the Cathedral.
It was still standing.”
After the second raid he and a pal went into the
city and looked at the damage.
“We ran up over the cattle market and could hear
the bells of fire engines and ambulances coming from
Castle Meadow way. The sky was still thick with smoke,
and as we got close to Golden Ball Street it was obvious
that a lot of bombs had fallen around Ber Street and
All Saints’ Green.
“The biggest shock met us at the bottom of Timberhill.
Orford Place, which had been an area of big shops like
Bunting’s, Curls’ and Woolworth was just a
huge heap of rubble. All those buildings were completely
gutted. The stench was unforgettable, a mixture of dust,
soot and burning wood.”
Suddenly I was aware of a bare
human foot severed at the ankle . . .
An army of young messengers formed a vital
communications link across Norwich during the air raids.
And one of them was Alan Brown, who lived with his mum
and dad at the old Moons & Stars public house on
Duke Street which is now long gone.
“As a Civil Defence Messenger I was based at an
underground bunker next to the pub,” said Alan
who went on to become a police officer in Norwich. He
has never forgotten the Blitz and the gruesome discovery
he made.
“Shortly after the bombing had ceased I went to
Westwick Street close to City Station and helped to
drag many of the hose pipes which the fire brigade were
using to fight the fires,” he said. “Suddenly
I was aware of a bare human foot severed at the ankle
that had been wedged between the hoses on the road,”
said Alan, who was just 15 at the time.
“I brought it to the notice of a firemen who promptly
picked it up and threw it in the river nearby,”
added Alan. He lost members of his family in the raids
and went on to serve in the Home Guard unit at Thorpe
Power Station during the rest of the war.
Dive bombers making incredible noise.
Bags of flares,
ack ack fire, machine gunning and shrapnel
Shivering in an underground shelter dressed
in pyjamas and tin hat — as Norwich burned.
“Not something you ever forget,” said Jean
Boorman, who now lives near Derby and still treasures
her wartime diary.
Jean volunteered to join the WAAF at the age of 18 and
ended up as ACW Watts J.D. and her first posting was
at RAF Stoke Holy Cross.
“Our camp had been built in the woods at Poringland
and our RADAR stations were in Stoke Holy Cross,”
says Jean. “I found a Mrs Parker who lived in the
main street at Poringland who was very kind to me. She
did some of my washing and even gave me a real egg,”
she recalls.
During her stay near Norwich she was “blitzed”
two or three times, and here are some extracts from
her wartime diary:
- April 2 1942: Received news
of alert. All confined to camp. Had tea, on duty 6-11pm
complete with gas capes and small kit. Apparently
E Boats (German) off the coast at Yarmouth. Bags of
panic!
- April 27 1942: Went to bed 11.45pm.
Woken at 12.05 by Jane. Bags of flares (like daylight).
Alarm sounded — dashed to shelters. There until
2am. All in pyjamas and tin hats. Bags of bombers
— Norwich blitzed — terrible fires. Not
a very pleasant experience.
- April 29 1942: Went to village
dance. Was just leaving when terrific raid started.
Ran back to camp through woods with Sgt Jones. Must
admit I was scared. Saw German plane at 150ft. Dive
bombers making incredible noise. Bags of flares, ack
ack fire, machine gunning and shrapnel hitting the
trees. Went straight to shelter.
- April 30 1942: In shelter last
night until 1am. Terrific raid. Called to help fetch
water. Worked hard all afternoon. The CO and all the
officers helped! On duty until 11. Alarm sounded 4.10am.
Norwich bombed again.
- May 8 1942: Just in bed when
raid started. Dive bombed for one and a half hours.
Land mine 200 yards away. WAAFERY wrecked by blast.
Had to sleep on floor of NAAFE all night. Masses of
bombs — some unexploded. Hell, were we scared!
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