Memories of Eltham in the 1930s and 40s ............. from Daniel Murphy

Sitting on the shelter

It is always a privilege to have contributions from people and so here are some of the memories of Daniel Murphy from the Eltham of the 1930s and 40s.

When in 1937 this photograph was taken, I was 2 years old, my mother had been shopping on Eltham High Street and we were on our way home when a street photographer took our picture.   I remember the incident, mum giving him our address and paying him some money for the photo, which we received later in the post.

In the summer of 1937 we moved from Merrifield road to Rossway on the Progress Estate,  my mother, my father,  two brothers, my grandmother and my aunt Lil (my mother`s oldest sister),  we all lived together.  

By the end of 1937 my grandmother was dead.   She died in September,  aged 72 years.

Two days before she died we were gathered in her bedroom where she was acting strangely; propped up in her bed and pointing out of the window.  “Look, look” she was saying “look at all the fires in the sky, look at all the fighting up there, it`s terrible”.  She repeated this again and again until we agreed we could all see it, but of course we couldn't.

In the High Street

Three years later, in 1940, we could.   The Woolwich and Silvertown docks were on fire.    The sky was black with smoke, and bombers and fighter planes filled to sky and we spent many of our days, and nights in the air-raid shelter.

But firstly sometime around the end of August 1939, we were evacuated.    We were put on a train at Well Hall station and taken off again at Dartford,   which surprised all of us, my mother in particular, since she was expecting to be taken into the country far away from London.   Well, we were,   sort of, we were put on a coach and driven to Ash in Kent;    a mile or two from Brands  Hatch.

Once there, we were ushered into the village hall and directed to sit on chairs arranged around the sides of the room.   Then the locals came in and selected their refugee(s).     We were chosen, my mother, my brother Terry, me and another lady and her son,    by a man and his daughter, Joan.

He was the village butcher and so we were all billeted in his house, which had the butchers shop at the front, and a slaughter house with a hay loft and a stable at the back.   The stable housed a beautiful chestnut horse belonging to Joan.   For me it was just like going on holiday;   I loved it.  

On the third of September I was out walking with mother when a man came down the road calling out that we were at war with Germany.  

Ash Village

I immediately began crying because I thought that now I would have to put my gas mask on and keep it on `till the war finished, but I was only four years old.   Anyway, about a hundred yards away was the White Swan Inn and people from the village were rushing to get in there, so we joined them.  

Reason for the rush became clear when we learned that they had a RADIO!  

We all crammed into their back room and listened to Chamberlain`s declaration of war:   I got a glass of orange juice to keep me quiet.

A week or two after this, my mother decided we should all go home.

At home we found that an Anderson shelter had been delivered; in several pieces.   I decided it would be great to play on, so I got out my cars.  It was a hot sunny day so my mother brought me out a hat, and a comic.  

Later she sneaked a photo of me.    A few days later, some men came to erect it down the garden.     Little did I know then that we would be sleeping in there night after night during the blitz.

© Daniel Murphy

Pictures; from the collection of Daniel Murphy