30th September 1942: Air Raid on St Botolph's Station, Colchester

Wednesday

Dull, grey morning, wet.  Cycled in rather late.  About the middle of the morning I heard the noise of a plane diving out of the clouds [and four tremendous explosions]. Hull was outside, crouching behind one of the pillars, and called “Look out!  Here he comes!”  

I went up onto the Holly Trees roof with glasses, but there was nothing to see, the whole town being under a misty haze.  There were several people standing about in the street, and traffic was running normally.  I saw a Warden run out of Queen Street towards East Hill, fastening his equipment as he ran.

In Queen Street two policemen hurried out of the police-station towards St. Botolph’s.  The people shopping etc were going about their business unperturbed.  There were windows out along Magdalen Street, at Chambers’, Diggens, my uncle George’s old shop, and along Barrack Street for 100 yards.  Several were blown out at the church [St. Mary Magdalen].  One bomb fell near Portugal Terrace, and shook the roofs off two houses.  There were tiles off the old almshouses in Brook Street, and windows broken opposite.

   

There was an “Unexploded Bomb” notice on the coal yard gates [at St. Botolph's Station] but I expect this is only a bluff to keep the public away.  There seemed to be dozens of Wardens walking about.

Got back to the office, and heard old Cecil Patten had just been in, the landlord of the Horkesley “Beehive” who was blown up there two years ago.  He told Capt. Folkard that he was driving his lorry down Mersea Road when the Jerry plane opened fire, and a man fell shot right against him.  This is a complete lie, as nobody was shot at all!

  

Went on a round of dairymen at Mile End and Dedham, investigating people who have no means of keeping their cows during the winter.  One man, Munday, at Mill Farm, Mile End, has 15 very good shorthorns, and is producing 50 gallons of milk per day.  He has only 10 acres of grass, and buys everything he wants.  I realise this is all wrong, but I must admit it is a very pleasant method of farming, a method which is very attractive to me.  At Dedham, called at Mrs. Erith’s, a lovely house in the main street.  She is a very wealthy lady and keeps 4 beautiful Jerseys and employs a strapping young woman to look after them.  They give 6 gallons a day between them (2 being dry) and some of this is sold in Dedham, but Mrs. E. gets all the cream and butter she can use.  There is 5 acres of grass, 3 of which often flood.  How can these people hope to carry on?

Called at Sissons, and added copies of Bale drawings to my photo collection.  Stayed to supper.

Further details on the air raid on St. Botolph's Station in Colchester are available in E.J. Rudsdale's book.

29th September 1942

Tuesday (Michaelmas)

Found that both Charlie Brooks and Bob Cooper are safe, and all their families.  Brooks’ forge is very badly shaken, but he has six men on repairs today.  

One bomb brought down 4 houses on the S. side of South Street, shattered the “New Inn” and a dozen houses opposite; the next demolished 3 or 4 houses in Chapel Street, the third passed almost horizontally through the first house on the S. side of Wellington Street, struck the roadway, leaving a perfect impression on the tar of its shape and tail-fins, bounced over a fence by Brooks’ back yard, and burst in the gardens between Essex St. and Wellington St., demolishing 3 houses on the N. side of the latter and 6 in Essex St.  Cooper’s house is shattered, but still stands.  Half a dozen houses on the N. side of Essex Street have the fronts blown out, and cascades of furniture and bedding are tumbling into the front gardens.

Cycled back to Lawford at 6.30, rain still continuing.

The aftermath of the air raid on Colchester that had taken place the previous day is described in more detail in E.J. Rudsdale's book.

28th September 1942: Air Raid on Colchester

Monday

Up at 7.  Pouring with rain.   

About 11 o’clock I heard a plane flying very low a little to the west, than at once a tremendous crash of bombs.  A few people were running towards the rear of All Saints Church.  Just outside Geernant’s [shop] was a lump of bomb casing, about 9” long, lying in a pool of water, steaming.  At first I thought it was an incendiary.  A road-man pushed it into the gutter with his broom.  There were several other pieces in Queen St., and Culver St., and I was sure the bombs must have fallen fairly near.  The workmen and girls from Adams’ Garage were all outside, laughing and talking about pieces which had hit the glass and tin roof.  There were bits of broken tile in the road by the Cross Keys, and a shop window was cracked at the corner of St Nicholas’ Street.  No sign of anything else, and people looking in shop windows with their umbrellas up, traffic running up and down the High St.

I called at Lancasheer’s in Queen Street, and collected two prints which I am giving to Joanna [as a wedding present], and found that a skylight had been broken there.

We loaded up Joanna’s presents, called at Neale and Robarts for the tea buns, and soon learnt the worst.  [Bombs had fallen across South Street, Chapel Street, Wellington Street and Essex Street].  There were shop windows out at Headgate, - Murdoch’s, Benner’s, Daldy’s old shop, Reeman & Dansie’s, Smith’s and a dozen others.   

I asked a policeman if he knew anything about Charlie Brooks and Bob Cooper, but he had no information, and would not let me by the rope.  Plowright was at the end of Princess St., loading somebody’s bedding onto his coal cart, but he knew nothing either.  I walked down St. John Street.  Windows out all along the north side of the street.  Noticed the usual crowd queuing for the Playhouse afternoon show.  Chapel Street, shut, and again refused permission to go through.  Ambulances and fire-tenders parked all along here (Why firemen?  No sign of any fire).

Walked through the folley to Walsingham Road and up Cedars Road.  Windows out all along, Plymouth Brethren Chapel had a lot broken, fragments of brick, coping-stones and iron railings all over the road.  People standing at their doors.  

No rope at Chapel St., so I pushed into a crowd and began to see what had happened.  Brooks’ forge was comparatively intact, but every window was out.

There was one block [of houses] gone in South St., another in Chapel St., another in Wellington St., and a fourth in Essex Street.

There were dozens of wardens, rescue men and demolition men about, while a party worked on one place almost opposite to me, throwing out pieces of wood, soaked clothes, broken chairs.  Heard somebody say there were six dead.  Then a young boy came away from the ruin, and said to a warden near me “They can see her back and legs now.  She’s under the dresser,” referring to a body which was then being dug out.  An ambulance drove up and stopped near by.  There was a pile of stretchers on the opposite pavement.  The rain came down even harder than ever.

I could not wait any longer, so went back to The Bull, and looked in at Rose’s to collect sandwiches.  Even in Church Walk a window was smashed, next door to the café.  Rose seemed as busy as usual.

Drove out of the Bull [with Robin], crunching over broken glass, with much shying at heaps of rubbish.  Got to Birch in good time, very wet.  Delivered the presents.  Dull meeting.  Much talk about the wedding, and the Chairman warned Committee members not to come in cars, in case of trouble with the police.

Drove back in pouring rain.  As I was feeding Robin, P.C. Bennall brought in a sheep which had been found in Beveny’s garage.  Both boxes were occupied, so I put it in a pig stye and fed and watered it.  I suppose it must have strayed off the Wick.

Back to the office, finished letters, and then up to the Post Office.  Up Chapel Street I could see a long line of red lights, stretching away up the hill.  Head Street was full of laughing soldiers and girls.  Cycled to Lawford very tired, and thankful to be there safely.

This air raid caused the second highest loss of life in Colchester during the Second World War, after the tragic air raid on Severalls Hospital in August 1942.  More details on the effects of this daytime air raid on Colchester on 28th September 1942 can be found in E.J. Rudsdale's book. CP

27th September 1942

Sunday

Mr and Mrs Minney, Mrs Belfield, and her “poet” all came to tea.  Mr. Minney is still engaged in writing a film story on the life of Laval, which, if it is as dull as he is, will not be a very attractive picture.  The “poet” appears to be growing a beard, and looks more of an insufferable young ass than usual.

Drove to Colchester immediately after tea, as I was on duty tonight.

26th September 1942

Saturday

In this week’s “Standard” I saw recorded the death of Miss Florence Wire of Buckhurst Hill, daughter of Alfred and grand-daughter of William Wire.  I knew her quite well, and she frequently visited the Museum during the last few years. 

Drove out to Lawford early this evening.

The antiquarian, William Wire, had kept a diary of life in Colchester during the nineteenth century and E.J. Rudsdale had been in contact with Florence Wire during the 1930s when researching the life of her grandfather.  CP

25th September 1942

Friday

This afternoon drove Robin over to Fingringhoe to pay some men.  Called at Grubb’s, but she and the horses were out.  Apparently she still takes a few people riding.  Cannot understand how she keeps her horses alive.

24th September 1942

Thursday

Had to go to the Police Court today to give evidence in a case where old Sam King of Glebe Farm, Abberton, had summoned Mrs Furneaux’s man for poaching.  I had to give formal evidence that King had no rights on the land at all.

It was really rather amusing, the idiotic solemnity of the whole business, the waste of time, etc.  S.L. Bensusan and Major Waller were on the bench.  Poor old King still cannot understand that he has no rights over what was formerly his own farm.  The Clerk of the Court adopted a bullying, hectoring tone to King and the man accused, and a sickening smarming attitude to the magistrates.

Full moon tonight, but no Germans over.  It is very lonely in the farmhouse all by myself.  I am glad to have Pepper in the room, although he snores rather loudly.