Friday
Two alarms during the night, one
about 4, and the other after 6.
Most
unusual to have one so late.
During the
first, just before 4, heard what seemed to be the scream of a falling ‘plane,
and a heavy thud.
When I got to the
office, Capt. Folkard told me that this was one of the long-expected “rocket
planes”, sent over from
France,
and that it crashed in a field near Baker’s Hall, Bures, passing over Fordham.
There are more details on the arrival of the first V1 flying bombs in E.J. Rudsdale's book.
Fine morning, but cold and windy,
cumulus cloud drifting over from the N.W.
Early lunch, as I had to go over to Chelmsford for a secretaries’ meeting. All talk at lunch about the “rocket”. Winnie said “Awful, isn’t it? Whatever will happen next?” and went on to
say that Sainsbury had sent her 4 and a half pounds of sausages and had charged
her for 6 pounds.
To the station at 1.30. Big crowds.
Ida Hughes Stanton was there, with an officer.
Called out to me, but felt I could not face a conversation with her and
pretended not to hear.
Train came in very full, and
changed engines. While we waited some
Liberators came droning over back to their bases, in and out of clouds
disappearing and re-appearing. Longed
for the train to move.
Near Witham, a field full of
pea-pickers, wearing brightly coloured skirts and gaudy handkerchiefs on their
heads. Nearby was a field of roots with
sheep folded, men spreading lime from carts where the sheep had already
been. At one end was a brand new
water-cart, brilliant red and green, and a shepherd’s pony-and-cart.
There was a stream set in a newly
broken grass field near Hatfield Peverel.
Several fields of hay were cut and cocked, and at Boreham, on the
Fordson estates, they were carting clover with, of course, Fordsons.
Train half an hour late at Chelmsford. Town very crowded, market day. News boys calling “Oaks Result”. Looked in at the market, full of young store
cattle. In one pen were two short horn
bulls tied against each other, busily goring each other’s flanks. Why do the auctioneers allow this stupid
cruelty to go on?
Cycled on to Writtle, only to
find the meeting had been postponed for half an hour, without of course any
notice whatever being sent to secretaries.
A few sheep are penned on the little clover patches outside the
Institute. The whole of the ground in
front is laid out in experimental beds of grasses and wheats. A labourer stood motionless, like a figure in
“The Angelus”.
In the men’s lavatories the
following notice:
“Switch off the light before you
pass out.”
Secretaries’ meeting was
incredibly boring, everybody wanting to argue silly points of no importance
whatever. Felt more and more annoyed and
depressed.
The meeting dragged on until
5.30, then at last got away. Called at County Hall, and saw Emmison [Archivist of Essex Record Office] for a
few minutes. Told me that Colonel Round had
sent in a tremendous quantity of stuff, including 83 plans of farms on the
Birch Hall estate, and among miscellaneous papers there are several relating to the
Castle. Could not see these as he had to
rush off to an emergency ARP meeting, arising out of these new bombs. Much impressed by the care with which all the
important archives are kept, massive steel safes, concrete vaults, etc. Compares very favourably to the shoddy
lackadaisical methods at Colchester.
Had sausage tea at the
Cinema. Found trains from London very late, owing
to bombs somewhere on the line. Got in a
panic, and decided to cycle home. Saw two
big convoys on the By-Pass – Americans going East, AA guns going towards London. Fat cattle grazing on the Chelmer marshes.
Large National Fire Service [N.F.S.] barracks near the
junction of the old London
road, and not far away was a gun mounted on a tower of scaffolding, the figure
of the gunner dark against the evening sky.
At Boreham was horrified to see
that the great elm avenues on each side of the lake, leading up to
Boreham House,
are being cut down.
Called at
Crix, as I had not seen
Miss Hope for so long.
The lawn in front
of the house is now ploughed and sown with peas.
Miss H. looked very well, and was glad to see
me.
Her father is now very old, and is
getting rather deaf.
Was told that
shortly before 4am a rocket had missed the house by a narrow margin, falling
in an orchard about a mile away.
Miss Hope also told me that in
1940 they had two land-mines near the house, and in 1941 a large bomb fell near
the east drive gate. Yet there is no
sign whatever of any of this, just a lovely gracious house, standing peacefully
among the trees, the dying sun glinting on the myriad window-panes. And all through the endless nights of terror
this crippled woman stayed there alone with her old father and an elderly
servant.
They asked me to stay to dinner,
which I did, although dirty from travelling.
We had it in the lovely dining room, looking out into the garden, all
the furniture gleaming and polished as if servant problems had never been heard
of. The old man produced a bottle of
port, and handed round the glasses. We
had fish and asparagus, and then peppermints, and like a fool I ate mine before
I had finished the port, and felt dreadfully gauche.
Left at 9.30, with two copies of
‘Antiquity’ which Miss H. gave me.
Cycled along easily before a S.W. wind.
Witham seems to be full of semi-derelict houses and policemen. One called out to a fireman cycling by:
“Hurry up, hurry up. Are we going to
have another night like last?”
Just over the railway bridge was
startled by sirens blowing all-clear. A lovely calm evening. Never heard the alarm. At Rivenhall End there were four more
policemen outside the station there, who looked at me very suspiciously. Noticed two fire-party notices, two in a tiny
street of a dozen houses and a pub. A
fire-party consisting of two old labourers and two women were walking away,
wearing their idiotic helmets.
Fantastic.
At Kelvedon the pubs. were still
open, but at Marks Tey it was almost dark, and the sun was disappearing as a
huge red ball, with clouds coming up from the west. Lexden with crowds of firemen and N.F.S. girls
outside the N.F.S. barracks at the Horse Show Ground. Heard one girl say “Well, if anything happens
here, I shall clear out”.
Down the By-Pass, and up Spring
Lane, lovely in the dusk, full of flittering bats. Cut through Braiswick to Mile End, and so to
Boxted by 11.30. Felt very nervous
tonight, so took my rugs and lay in the ditch on the edge of the wood until
1.30am, listening to the sounds of the little animals rustling and crawling.
