My memories of a V1 incident in WW2

A V1 on display at Eden Camp, Yorkshire

From 1943 to 1947 I  attended Dalston County Secondary Grammar School for Girls which stood on the corner of Shacklewell Lane and Cecilia Road. New school buildings in Shacklewell Lane (now the site of the Petchey Academy) had been completed just before the beginning of the war and the old school at Colvestone Crescent had moved in at the end of July 1939 to start of the new school year there in the September.

However before this could happen war was declared and the pupils and staff were quickly evacuated to Downham Market in September 1939, and by 1940 the building was being utilised by pupils from several local schools who had returned from evacuation for a few years when it was called the North East London Emergency Secondary School (NELESS). The Downham contingent returned to the school in 1943 and I was in that year's new intake.

By then the ground floor cloakrooms had been re-inforced with concrete block work built within the inner walls and over the windows and the ceiling was reinforced. Being built as a traditional school cloakroom it had several two or three rows of double sided racks with hooks and numbers for hanging coats with wire boxes underneath for shoes and Wellingtons. On top of the shoe racks was a narrow wooden bench which were originally intended only for brief use, such as changing ones shoes etc. Sitting on them for hours at a time was extremely uncomfortable.

The siren was constantly sounding during school hours at which time everyone picked up their books and quickly made their way with the teacher to their allotted air raid shelter and continued the lesson. Often we only heard distant explosions and not the sound of a V1 (Vergeltungswaffen), also known as the buzz bombs or doodlebugs. The first of these was launched at London on 13 June 1944, one week after the successful Allied landings in Europe. At their peak, more than one hundred V1s a day were fired at south-east England, some 9,521 in total.
Several lessons were taken in these shelters as we waited for the All Clear to sound and if it hadn’t sounded by home time,we had to wait until it did, which was not popular or welcome. It was pretty crowded in there being used by three classes, each approximately 30 girls,  who crowded in and seated themselves, not to mention coats, jackets, bags and gas masks hanging over head while trying to juggle exercise and study books etc. As the hours passed the temperature rose and the 'locker room' atmosphere can only be imagined at this distance in time. 

I recall having one science lesson on magnetism in there which involved iron filings on a sheet of paper and a magnet! Jostling elbows, while trying to work, meant most of our iron filings ended up on the floor.
The lighting was still the original and very poor so classes were not all that successful although some girls studied for their finals in similar shelters in the gym changing and shower room.

Shortly after lunch on Monday afternoon 3 July 1944 the siren sounded and we all trooped out to the shelters where we worked for a couple of hours in peace because nothing seemed to be happening outside. 

Then suddenly all work stopped and the sound of a V1 could be heard approaching. We had all become used to the sound of these approaching weapons but generally we were at home with our family and had grown accustomed to judging how close they were before taking shelter under the kitchen table! 
This one was definitely flying in our direction and was very low. As it drew nearer the sound of its engine increased until it became almost deafening. It was as if one were standing close to a huge engine running at full speed and we could  feel everything about us vibrating.  I am sure many of those in the shelter , including me, thought our last moment had come.

The V1 must have just skimmed the tops of the nearby houses when the engine began spluttering.  We all knew what that meant - the engine was running out of fuel was close to stalling and if the engine stopped now the bomb would drop and we were underneath! Even if it exploded in the next street there would still be considerable damage to the school buildings.
I had never heard one that loud before and it was passing directly overhead and the sound then completely surrounded us. It was so low it was possible the school building itself would stop it in its flight and even if it exploded in the next street there would be considerable damage caused to the school buildings..

We all tensed. It was one of those collective moments when everyone held their breath, waiting. Not knowing how close it would be when it fell while willing it to keep on spluttering long enough to fall somewhere else. It was a life and death moment for us.

Suddenly the engine cut out completely and we waited. Did everyone else count, as I did? One, two - and then came a tremendous explosion which shook the whole building and ground. It had been close and everyone knew it and gave a sigh of relief and perhaps a little prayer. It was someone else's misfortune. Not ours. Had it been closer we all might have been killed or dying but when that moment of fear has passed you just feel gratitude for being alive.
We all sighed with relief and with wildly beating hearts began chattering amongst ourselves and then got back to our school work. No panic. No hysteria. No fuss. Those sheltering with me in the cloakroom that day were, like me, twelve years old. The school held over 300 young girls and women teachers, and though we were all terrified no one panicked. I am so proud of all those who were in that shelter with me that afternoon for they truly showed the Dalston spirit for which the school was renowned.

Recently I met another pupil of the school who was in the same shelter and recalled the event. ‘I well remember the V1 falling in Farleigh Road. I was in the air-raid shelter at school, which at that time was the ground-floor cloakroom. We must have been in the middle of a French lesson then because I can remember Miss Stanley our French teacher asking me after if I was alright. We were all sent home early but some of us had to detour as our usual route through Amhurst Road had been cordoned off.’

The V1 had landed in Rectory Road, between Farleigh and Fouldon Roads, an eighth of a mile away, and shortly after the All Clear sounded and we were sent home.

My father, a fireman at Kingsland Road fire station at the time, had been in the Blitz in East London and had apparently just come off duty and was in bed sleeping when the explosion woke him. I can only imagine his panic as he leapt out of bed and hastily threw on some clothes and made his way to Rectory Road where my grandmother lived. Her house was safe but from there he could see smoke rising in the direction of my school and set out to check. 
However I was totally surprised to find him waiting for me outside the school gates when we came out and imagined all sorts of things for he had never met me from school before. We were leaving school earlier than our usual home time so I was asking myself how he knew the school had closed early and why he was there, thinking to myself - maybe it has hit our house. As it happened the V1 had exploded on the route I usually took home and few streets from where we lived and had demolished several houses and he did not want me seeing the situation on the ground.
Being young I thought no more about the event I had lived through and just got on with life and while I later saw the gap where the demolished houses  had been, they had been cleared and cleaned up and were like all the other familiar bomb gaps in nearby streets.

A few days later another V1 landed near Rectory Road railway station which was close to my grandmother's house. Then in September 1944 the launching sites were over-run by the Allies, and the  V1s stopped arriving but the  V2s replaced them. These were launched from moveable sites and climbed up to 60 miles before descending and travelled at 25000 miles per hour. (Three to four times the speed of sound.) They could not be intercepted and unlike the V1s the V2 engines did not stall but continued on until their trajectory dropped and exploded on impact. 

Forty-one V1s and eleven V2s dropped within the Hackney and Stoke Newington area, the last one in February 1945. Personally I found the V1s more frightening because, apart from the super-sonic boom, the V2s exploded without announcing their arrival so one had no time to feel fear.

In later years, out of interest,  I researched this event at Hackney Archives and  found it was logged as Incident number 1435. The ambulance had been sent for at 3.26 pm and soon rescue teams were arriving including a First Aid Mobile Unit. At this time it was known there was one person dead and twelve casualties, six of whom were sent to hospital. The gas mains were shut off and the National Fire Service stood by dealing with the fire.

Digging out the injured and dead was going to be a long job, and the mobile canteen arrived at 4.50 pm by which time a further 9 casualties had been rescued and taken to the First Aid Post. In total eighteen casualties were dealt with by the First Aid Post from this one incident. Six people made homeless were sent off to Millfields Rescue Centre and enquiries were being made about 3 men who were missing, Mr Dove, Mr Parker and Mr Richards.

One person was still missing at 104 Fouldon Road at 6.45 pm. Later a further 12 homeless were sent to Millfields. There were still two trapped men to rescue and both, Charles James Dove, a 42 year old Police War Reserve Constable of 2 Heatherly Street (Commonwealth War Graves Commission gives the address as number 33), who was found at about 8.55 pm and 64 year old Frederick John Parker, husband of Lydia Victoria, of 204 Lewis Buildings, Amhust Road, were found to be dead.

Several more homeless were sent to Millfields and work continued to make the site safe for the firemen to deal with the fire. The final casualty list was 3 dead, 8 removed to hospital and 16 treated at the First Aid Post.