THE COLEGATE BOMB

I am afraid I cannot remember the time at which the air raid siren sounded
on that September evening in 1940. It was over 60 years ago!

When we heard the planes and the bombs whistling down (there were no loud
explosions - they were incendiary bombs) my father, the Air Raid Warden went
out to investigate. My part was to stay by the phone to deal with any
messages (there weren't any). He was gone some while and eventually returned
and told us everything was dealt with and that he was going to the village
to report to Mrs. Barnes. Mrs. Barnes was available by phone throughout the
day (and night) as she was Chief Warden, but my father dealt with the active
side of things.

After he left we heard another wave of planes and then the loud explosions
of the H.E. bombs. We knew they were not very far off, but did not know
exactly where.

When he made his report, Dad learned that there had been other incendiaries
but all were dealt with. It appeared that they had been dropped in various
places more or less encircling the village. He then went down to the village
hall, which was the First Aid Post. This was manned by nurse Hocken, the
district nurse who lived next door to the village hall, Heather Barnes, Mrs
Barnes' 20 year old daughter and Nanny White who had been Nanny to the
Barnes children and had stayed on as house-keeper when they grew up.

Nurse Hocken left the hall to collect some equipment from her house and then
the first bomb fell. Dad rushed out of the hall, followed by Heather.

Nurse's house was completely demolished. They searched for her and found her
when a streak of moonlight picked out her white apron. She was lying on the
sloping side of the crater which had been her home. They carried her into
the village hall, but she was barely alive. Miss White went to the kitchen
at the opposite end of the hall, and my father was leaving by the main
entrance, which was at the side of the hall, to go to the Barnes' house to
phone for an ambulance. It was as he stepped into the porch that the second
bomb fell on the hall, killing the nurse and injuring Heather so badly that
she died in hospital a few hours later. Most of the porch collapsed on top
of my father, possibly saving his life as it did offer some protection from
the much heavier structure of the main building.

I am not sure whether it was before or after he extricated himself that the
third bomb fell by the church wall which killed the three young men who were
returning from extinguishing fires started by incendiaries in another part
of the forest.

Another bomb fell behind the Post Office, damaging the building, and one
fell behind Mrs. Baldwin's cottage but this did not explode until the next
day.

Eventually my father managed to get home, but he obviously needed medical
attention. He suffered severe bruising and had a nasty injury in his leg. In
those days men wore suspenders to keep their socks up and some part of the
porch falling on him had driven the metal par of the suspender into his leg.
He was also completely deaf.

He said that when he left the village all the casualties had been taken away
by the first aid and rescue workers who had come from Horsham but that one
or two of them were waiting a while in case anyone else needed their help,
so I went to see if one of them might still be there and Mrs. Rowe, who had
come to our house (with 8 year old Alan) from her bungalow in the forest
when the raid began came with me.

The road from our house to the Green Dragon was slightly uphill and then
descended more steeply down to the church, and I will never forget the
feeling of awe as I walked down the hill in the darkness - the silence and
stillness that hung over the village seemed palpable. Earlier there had been
noise and destruction - people moving about - voices raised. But now it
seemed that even nature was holding its breath - not a leaf on the trees,
not a blade of grass moved. And in the silent houses, behind the closed
doors and broken, blacked-out windows there were grieving families.

Briefly, in the distance, I heard the faint drone of a plane. Friend or foe?
Oddly, the sound seemed more melancholy than menacing. Then I trod on broken
glass.

We found a first-aider near the remains of the village hall and he came back
to the house with us and saw my father and arranged to have him taken to
hospital.

Mrs. Rowe was still with us and one or two others as well, but I cannot
remember who - there had been a fair amount of coming and going. My mother
decided to make everyone a cup of coffee, but when we tried to pour it we
found that the percolator was completely clogged up. Working in haste in a
dimly lit kitchen she had filled it with cocoa instead of coffee! We
hurriedly made a pot of tea!

My father was brought home from hospital the following day. Fortunately his
hearing was not permanently damaged - his ears had completely filled with
dust.

When Ron and I were married in Colgate church the following June (on the
hottest June day for over 80 years) the windows of the church were still
boarded up except for one near the alter on the south side of the chancel
and when we moved up to the alter we were standing I a shaft on brilliant
sunlight.

My bouquet of pink carnations was given to Mrs. Barnes to place on Heather's
grave.

At the funeral of my brother-in-laws wife in December 2002, I met Esther
Dendy the sister of Jack Constable who was one of the young men killed in
the raid.

Written by Mrs JOYCE RICHARDSON