ALAN GIRLE REMEMBERS THE BOMBING

“Earlier today one of our aircraft destroyed a strong concentration of enemy  troops”. These were the words broadcast by German propaganda radio, beamed all over Great Britain during the nightly broadcast of “Lord Haw Haw” as we called him, more correctly, British traitor, William Joyce.

OTC Cadets

In Odiham it was a Friday in October 1940 when the drama began. Time – approx. 2 pm. The Odiham Grammar School OTC (Officers Training Corps) under the command of Major George Holmes was practicing the use of D 3 field telephones in an area of the school grounds adjacent to the school gates. They had not at that time been taken under the overall wing of the Army Cadets. I was one of those OTC cadets. There were perhaps 30 or 40 of us. We were all wearing our WWl style uniforms of tunics with shiny brass buttons, polished brown leather belts and puttees. I know we looked ridiculous, but the new battledress had not yet “trickled down” to us.

Aircraft spotting

As nearly all young boys during those early days of the war, we took as a pastime, aircraft identification. We could tell a Spitfire from a Hurricane, a Wellington from a Handley Page, but perhaps not a Blenheim from a Junkers (JU 88). They were very similar, but mind you, there were heaps of Blenheims at Odiham at that time, and we had never seen a JU 88. We had also been drilled time and again, by our CO, in exactly what to do in the unlikely event of being attacked from the air. On this occasion, we were happily going about our cadet business of setting up field telephones.

Take Cover!

I became aware that ‘Sir’ was standing upright amongst us, in full uniform, ‘Sam Browne’ belt, brass buttons, peak cap, and ‘swagger’ stick under arm in approved fashion. However, he had lost interest in us and was staring fixedly in the general direction of the aerodrome, but skywards. There, attracting his attention was an aeroplane, which we all took to be a Blenhelm circling, and going  In and out of the clouds.  Taking us all completely by surprise, Major Holmes started blowing his ‘take cover’ warning whistle: I simply could not believe what was happening, but we all instinctively dived into the nearby bushes, lay face down,  elbows into ground and hands behind head thus protecting our rears. I was naughty. I took a  peek, and there, sure enough, was this same aircraft, coming directly towards us in a shallow descending dive, with little spirits of flame coming from its front gun turret. Our Commander was still standing, making sure his ‘troops’ had all taken cover.

I again buried my head, then took another quick look.  This time, ‘Sir’ was crouching down not two yards from me and leaning in towards the bush he was beside. I looked up and there were clearly four bombs to be seen falling halfway between the aircraft and the ground as it passed over us. This time I took cover in earnest and did my best to emulate a mole. I was never a very bright pupil, but even I knew there was about to be a very big bang. I remember wondering if I would feel the ground tremble. This was no Blenheim . It had to be an enemy aircraft, a JU 88, in fact. Sure enough there was indeed a very big bang. I sneaked another peep, and there in all his glory was our Major Holmes, back on his feet, staring into the distance at the departing aircraft while a pall of smoke rose over Odiham, and one could see the debris falling. Not until he was certain that all danger had passed did he allow us to our feet again

That afternoon, our Schoolmaster, who taught us science, chemistry, PT, athletics, football,  cricket,  gardening,  was co of the OTC and who also served the community out of school hours, as a Special Constable (unpaid) assisting the regular police, displayed outstanding bravery and courage in the face of enemy fire.

We were shepherded back (Mother Hen style) to the school buildings and into the air raid shelter where the rest of the school were already assembled, albeit a little late. Our teachers were in whispered consultation just outside the entrance. I seem to remember feeling that we, the heroic boys returning from the scene of battle, were rather ignored by the girls who could perhaps have done something to soothe our shattered nerves _ like holding our hands and wiping our brows and generally soothing us. But alas, no such luck. Maybe the hawk-like presence of the teachers had something to do with their total indifference. My little dream world again collapsed when one of the teachers came amongst us and took away my very best friend Dick Boyce.  The word went around Dick’s mother was buried under the rubble of their business premises. Thankfully, she was dug out alive some hours later. Special arrangements had to be made to get us all home because nobody was allowed near the High Street. I was sent to North Warnborough via The Close.

High Street Bombs

It seemed that two bombs had landed and exploded, one each side of the High Street. The third had gone through the front room window of Boyce’s house (adjacent to their business premises) and was an ” oil bomb” which was supposed to spew out oil and ignite, thus becoming very difficult to extinguish. It failed to do so, and the fourth had landed in the field behind Palace Gate Farm, and was indeed a ‘delayed action’ or ‘time bomb’. That night, my aunt and guardian put me to bed in the cupboard under the stairs, being regarded as the safe St place to be. It was not all that far in a direct line from our house across the field to Palace Gate. Once again that day I became aware that here   was probably going to be yet another very big bang. Sure enough,  the wretched thing blasted me from my slumbers in the early hours of the morning, never to be forgotten.   But for me at least the saga was over. Not so for the good people of Odiham who either had lost or had injured loved ones.

P.s. I  have often thought that a translation of Lord Haw Haw’s broadcast that fateful night should have gone something like this. “Earlier today, one of our aircraft, piloted by a coward, machine-gunned some innocent school children in comical dress (without actually hitting any of them), and in the process of running away from that would-be atrocity, jettisoned his bombs “willy nilly” on to a very pretty, historic English country village. The pilot, most assuredly did his best to strengthen the resolve of the British to resist.”