The time was 6.30 p.m. and my Mother and I were sitting by the fire with our
little Scottish terrier, Smoke, when we heard the air raid sirens at the top of the road, go off.
My uncle, who was staying with us, came in and suggested we should go outside and use the air raid
shelter on the grass verge, which had not been there long and had never been used.
We demurred, but he persisted and we went outside, carrying a deck chair. The whole sky was
crimson and we settled ourselves on the grass floor, my mother in the deck chair, with the dog on
her knee, and I crouched down beside her. My father was an Air Raid Warden, so had gone further
up the road. My uncle, who was just outside our shelter, said "I can see a parachute'." Seconds
later, there was a deafening explosion. This parachute mine had made a crater 30 ft deep about 40
yards up the road, killing 20 of our neighbours, including two babies, whose bodies were found in
a hedge.
My school friend who lived opposite, suffered injuries to the chest and face. She and her Mother
were taken to the Coventry and Warwickshire hospital, but it was on fire when they arrived.
My father was blown into another street shelter, but fortunately was not badly injured.
People
poured out of their houses into our shelter, so we were crammed tight for the next eleven hours,
which was the time the raid lasted.
There was a full moon that night (the Poacher's moon). When
the explosion occurred lots of rubble came crashing down on the roof of the street shelter, but
mercifully it held firm.
Our house, along with the rest of those in the road, was badly damaged
and only inhabitable downstairs. There was no water, gas or electricity. I remember thinking "I'm
too young to die". People who joined us in the shelter bothered about the most trivial things.
One girl said "Oh, I haven't finished my homework." Another said she had left a cake in the oven.
We could see the planes going overhead, and as I said, the raid lasted for eleven hours. We had
other raids, but none that lasted this length of time. The next day, we went to try to get to my
Uncle's house, and I was so relieved to see the three spires (for which Coventry is famed) still
standing. I remember seeing people leaving the city in hordes, looking stunned.
A night to remember! The Germans hoped this raid would destroy civilian morale, but it did the
opposite.
Submitted to this site by Kathleen Gilbert nee Hind. She was 18 years of age when this awful night happened.
Kathleen is the wife of Fred Gilbert whose P.O.W. story is on the Veterans site,
here.
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