This website feature is based on a chapter that I wrote for Volume 7 of the History of Isle of Wight Firefighting. The chapter title As Severe a Test, came from a contemporary IW County Press article reflecting on the actions of Civil Defence personnel during the Cowes Blitz of May 4/5, 1942. What follows is an abridged version of that 80-page chapter.  

Introduction and Research

That wintry night of 1996 triggered a series of events that led to my decision to produce a written history of Ryde’s notable fires and its fire brigade. Having researched the subject it became apparent that the wider story of firefighting on the Island was inexorably drawing me in; the nature and sparkle of the characters and stories were just too good to ignore in favour of writing only of the firefighters of my adopted home.

I didn’t really make the decision, it just happened, and in 2017 I published the first volume of the Island’s firefighting history Ready When Wanted. Volume 1 was followed by a chronologically arranged seven further volumes and I’ve revelled in the research, the writing, and production of each. But I knew that in my heart the point I was eager to reach sits within Volume 7, specifically the 4^th and 5^th May 1942… the Cowes Blitz, so that I could pick up the story from where Fireman Colin Weeks departed and explain why his diary ended so abruptly.

In the process I have been fortunate enough to have visited and spoken on multiple occasions with Ryde’s last remaining wartime firefighter Bill Turner, who has sadly passed away since my last visit. I’ve also discovered a mass of original material both at the County Records Office, National Archives and several other sources both on the island and mainland. Most poignantly the support I’ve received from the families of persons involved in the Cowes Blitz has led to the generous contribution of almost two-dozen memoirs, snippets, protracted written accounts or extracts from oral recordings that have turned a historical account in to a far more personal and authentic reflection from the perspectives of ARP wardens, rescuers and first-aiders, observers, firemen, soldiers, sailors, firewatchers, civilians, and their families.

There are many people to whom I owe a great debt of gratitude and to them, and their ancestors who endured the Cowes Blitz, some of whom didn’t survive, I dedicate this to them and hope that I have done them justice.

The Raid before the Raid

Cowes and East Cowes had been attacked from the air in late April 1942.

Was the attack of 28 April partly a reconnaissance mission? Had the arrival of the Guards brigade with their landing craft and naval escort been subject to a security breach – allegedly laundry staff in Dumfries knew of the move weeks before the soldiers. Did the sudden influx by ferry of a substantial increase of fire firefighting apparatus reveal that the Home Office had received intelligence warning of a major attack against the Isle of Wight?

According to one who alleged to be in-the-know; Now you could say this was a coincidence… maybe it was. But I’ve spoken to one officer who believes it wasn’t.

Another school of thought turned to the Baedeker Raids.

In the spring of 1942 RAF Bomber Command, under the leadership of the recently appointed Arthur Bomber Harris, equipped with new Stirling and Halifax bombers, improved navigation aids, and new tactics, raged destruction over Germany. The devastating attacks on Lubeck and Rostock shocked both Germany’s population and its leadership causing Goebbels to utter; The damage was really enormous, it is horrible. The English air raids have increased in scope and importance; if they can be continued for weeks on these lines, they might conceivably have a demoralizing effect on the population.

Referring specifically to the attack on Rostock he declared; The air raid was more devastating than those before. Community life there is practically at an end. The situation is in some sections catastrophic. Seven tenths of the city have been destroyed; more than 100,000 people had to be evacuated. There was, in fact, panic.

An apoplectic Hitler raged on 14 April; The air war against England must be given a more aggressive stamp. When targets are being selected, preference is to be given to those where attacks are likely to have the greatest possible effect on civilian life. Besides raids on ports and industry, terror attacks of a retaliatory nature are to be carried out on towns other than London.

In the case of Cowes this seems unlikely as the town isn’t formally recorded as one of the Baedeker targets and is not categorised as three-starred in the 1937 edition. But Cowes did present itself as a target, three-starred or not, for several reasons. The presence of industry and manufacturing of direct importance to the war effort couldn’t be hidden. A build-up of ships and personnel in the Medina would have been obvious to the eye of any Luftwaffe aircrew passing close by. And the short hop across the Channel offered a convenient target against modest anti-air defences in comparison to comparable targets on the mainland.

In early May 1942 the shipyards were in full production, everyone was on high alert, and amongst it all the normality of everyday life during wartime prevailed.

An extract from the 1937 Baedeker guide, clearly shows that Cowes was not applied any stars, whereas above the Needles has one star. Study of the full document reveals that no Isle of Wight location was given three stars.

3 May 1942

At 16:30 Company Officer Weaver booked in at Bembridge for the night shift. He was still on station when, at 20:15, Fireman Reynolds of headquarters, arrived in DL7408 followed by Fireman Pointer driving a Dennis major pumping appliance. Weaver had been expecting the arrival of the additional machine. His men weren’t. Arrival of the substantial additional engine compelled whispers and considerations that morphed into rumours.

The Isle of Wight’s division of the NFS was by now in possession of around 50 firefighting appliances. Some were self-contained motorised pumps, but the many were trailered pumps, a few towed by acquired vehicles with the majority coupled to dedicated Austin K2 Auxiliary Towing Vehicles (ATVs) that were gradually becoming the norm since creation of the nationalised service in the previous August. The island’s division also sported many of the appliances that served in pre-war borough, town and parish brigades. Repainted in grey and carrying decals corresponding to NFS dispositions they collectively formed an unprecedented and never to be repeated strength of IW firefighting capacity.

By 21:30 Bembridge’s T2 (trailer-pump number two), was manned and available and the station clock synchronised for the second time that day with divisional control at The Grange.

4 May 1942

The dark hours of 3 May passed quietly into the early hours of Monday the 4th. Red Warning alert was received at 01:45 and the men came to standby positions. Without occurrence the all-clear was received at 02:18 and the men settled back down. With no further disturbances to their sleep, in staggered format the men of the night watch began to drift off duty from 05:30 until Company Officer Weaver was the last out of the door at 08:00. As each man left, one who had spent the night at home took his place until the last to arrive, Control Operator Ayres, signed in.

The day-crew took over the watch under Jack Stout. T1 and T2 was declared manned and available, station clocks were synchronised again, and those wondering where Fireman Butler had got to were advised he had a 48-hour leave pass. At 09:55, in co-ordination with orders from Divisional Control at The Grange, Control Operator Ayres activated the system that sounded the on-call firemen’s house bells at 09:55. This was one of a number of routines that occurred concurrently throughout the island’s NFS every morning.

The Bembridge duty crew cleaned the station throughout, engaged in respirator drills, and stood to when a Red Warning was received at 11:17. Stand-to lasted just 18 minutes without event. Following lunch, the crew set about cleaning and repainting the new Dennis pump (B6583). As the day wore on and evening approached, the night watch began to arrive, Company Officer Weaver returned with firemen Abell (with the nights provisions), Jacobs, Edmunds, and Harbour. These men crewed T2 with T1 being available for turnout by those on-call from home.

Christabel Brading, wife of Ryde fireman Harold, kissed him goodbye when he departed for the night watch at Edward Street before opening her diary and making the brief entry, Beautiful day. Did washing in the morning and ironing after dinner.

The sun set on the Island just before nine-thirty; all was calm.

The Mobilising Room at The Grange, where Leading Firewoman Hilda Taylor is amending information on the Disposition of Appliances panel while the Mobilising Officer makes a call.

At The Grange, divisional headquarters staff ensured everything was in its place. The Disposition of Appliances board showed all resources on station. High water and low water timers were set. The Fire Situation panel of the blackboard was wiped clean. On another wall of the Control room were chalked reminders of matters affecting water supplies and an unspoiled space beneath Details of Water Relays in Operation. Phones were checked and ready, multiple in-out trays were neatly arranged at the head of the desk with message pads and pencils stacked alongside.

At sub-divisional control centres around the Island (Newport, Ryde and Shanklin) the same was repeated, so too at the ARP Control Centre at Hazards House and the many subsidiary centres in Districts 2 to 6 (Newport being District 1). The County Emergency Committee room (Committee Room No.1) on the third floor of County Hall lay empty; phones on desks, map on the wall and flagged marker pins neatly inserted in rows on a corkboard.

In the Island’s many wartime fire stations, firemen started engines, allowed them to warm, engaged the power-take-off, and satisfied that all was well they shut them down before rotating the trailer-pumps into life for a short burst. Air Raid Wardens settled down in their street-side posts, some with kettles, others dependent for the night on the contents of a flask. All possessed some reading material to while away the hours of inactivity between routine patrols.

22:55 4 May 1942 - The Raid

In the same moment that Commander Francki recorded the sound of guns, the Control Operator at Bembridge Fire Station entered into the Watch Log that an alert was received by activation of the siren. In response to the siren Leading Fireman Chick, and Firemen Lacey, Hess, A.C. Harbour, O. Harbour, Woodward, Sothcott, and Holbrook dashed to the station from their homes. Communication was sent to The Grange confirming all pumps manned and but for the lack of a further towing vehicle an additional trailer-pump could have been mobilised. Control Operator Ayres was next to arrive, taking over responsibility for communications and the Watch Log.

18-year-old Fireman Dennis Russell of Horsebridge Hill ran across the road from his home to the sound of the siren. He headed for the NFS sub-station behind the Stag Inn where he and his five colleagues fired up an old Buick requisitioned to tow a Beresford Stork trailer-pump. He recalled the initial events overhead; The first wave dropped fire-bombs, but most were off target and set fire to Parkhurst Forest. Thousands of them fell into marshy fields, failed to explode, and looked like seagulls that had settled down for the night.

The next wave dropped flares that lit up the target like day.

23:00 – the Blyskawica’s alarm brought all hands to battle stations. In Victoria Road, Company Officer Brunner, senior fireman of Cowes, stepped outside to see flares in an unsteady descent across the district. Marjorie Smith of Castle Street saw the same; We had no early warning, there was very little time to reach cover. As we made for the shelter, I remember seeing the sky lit by hanging strings of flares.

Shadows of buildings wallowed drunkenly within the unnatural light as Maude Copland and family headed for the shelter at the bottom of their Somerton garden. Halfway down the path her mother stopped, and bemused, stated that she could hear horses. But Maude recalled; The clop clop sound was not from hooves but from incendiaries which were falling all around us.

Vera Brown of Beckford Road recalled; Looking outside as the sirens sounded, we saw with horror and disbelief the huge flares over the town and knew that this time it was us.

23:02 – ARP Headquarters at Hazards House recorded; Flares dropped between Calshot and Cowes.

By then bombers were directly overhead and heavier ordnance was beginning to tumble from their bellies.

Cowes NFS Fireman William John Vallender, who began service as an AFS messenger in 1941, serving at the main fire station at Victoria Road, later aboard an NFS fire float and then the Action Station at Holmes’ Garage at Medina Road, recalled; The warning sirens started to wail, this was not unusual, but suddenly the town was lit up like daylight by flares dropped by the bombers. Within seconds falling bombs could be heard with violent explosions along with incendiary bombs which were to cause many fires. They were falling very close to my home at 23 Bridge Road.

My duty was to get to the nearest fire-fighting unit which was at Medina Road. Nearly all the buildings were on fire or blown up. We had one fire crew consisting of 4 firemen, so I joined them. We were pumping water from the River Medina, unfortunately the tide was falling, and we had to keep making adjustments to the suction line from the pipes. Ratsey and Lapthorn sail-making factory had been hit by an oil bomb and gutted. We were trying to control the blaze at my old workplace, E.G. Watts, which was full of paint, turps, and other highly flammable materials.

Roger Smith was engaged on the night shift as storeman at Saunders Roe. The building was struck by ordnance, shaking dust and small chips from the ceiling above but the bomb-proofed roof held. With his family in mind, he grabbed his coat and prepared for a hasty departure but was blocked by a foreman who told him that he must clock-off if he intended to leave. His reply advised the foreman where he could shove his clock and he left. His wife Marjorie recalled; His journey back was terrible, most of the Cowes roads were blocked by debris, fires and thick smoke. By a round-about route he managed to get to the floating bridge as crewmen were sweeping the remains of many incendiaries overboard. There were other anxious men and women wanting to get across the river and so the bridge was bravely put back into service. As the chain vessel made its way laboriously across the Medina, flashes and explosions shook the normally steady craft. Some were those of the enemy, others of the thunderous twin 40mm Bofors guns of the Blyskawica. However, Commander Francki refrained from deploying his main armament, the seven 4.7 inch guns; The control tower had been out of action during a previous raid and I considered that local control fire was ineffective and dangerous for the town and nearby buildings. Regardless the 40mm’s supported by eight 13.2mm machine guns operated by the dogged Polish gunners under Gunnery Officer Tadeusz Lesisz, posed a relentless defence. Added to the fire of the Polish destroyer was that of La Diligente, the Free French Navy 130-tonne submarine chasing mothership positioned off Marvin’s Yard. One of the French sailors at the yard was Petty Officer Marcel Ollivier, who gave an oral account to the Imperial War Museum in 2000; The Blyskawica the Polish ship made a tremendous barrage. We did what we could with our cannon and the pom-pom. The incendiaries fell all over the place. The old Marvin’s building was full of old yachts and that caught fire like a match, everything burnt everywhere. The base was absolutely destroyed, set on fire. They destroyed our base completely.

When Hector Percy Scott arrived at The Grange late in the night of 4 May 1942, he gazed at the Disposition of Appliances board and reflected on the enormity of the situation and that the eyes of nearly one-thousand fire service personnel were looking to him for leadership.

The first of those was Leading Firewoman Hilda Taylor who patiently allowed her commanding officer to compose his thoughts before launching her team into action with a stream of communications that would inevitably roll from his tongue. Standing considerately to one side of the blackboard to allow Scott full view of the situation thereon, she unwittingly crushed the chalk stick in her hand and waited.

Wisely, Scott’s first move was to send a situation report to Area headquarters at Durley in Hampshire, and to do that he had to report laterally to 14d’s mainland HQ in Portsmouth. When mainland towns and cities were attacked, calling for assistance from neighbouring divisions and regions was commonplace, achievable, practised and tested. Reinforcement needs of the Island comprised a wholly distinct set of logistics and risks. Shipping would be vulnerable, but if it was a case that support might be needed, it was best to assume it would and get the NFS reinforcement wheels in motion immediately. Area HQ at Wintershill Hall would notify Region 6 headquarters at Marlborough House in Reading, who in turn would pass the information to the Home Office Fire Service Department’s Control Centre. The system was designed and established less than twelve months earlier. Firefighting units, comprised of firemen who may have raised eyebrows when being made aware of the incident location, would be moved from individual stations to rendezvous points where they met others from disparate units. The conglomerations formed columns under unique temporary callsigns and filed along pre-arranged routes behind the guidance of NFS motorcycle scouts to forming up points in Region 6 (South). The columns were held many miles from the coast for their own protection, waiting for the call to tell them where, when, and how to approach the coast for conveyance to the Island. As the massed firefighting columns sluggishly with shrouded headlamps, emerged and manoeuvred into remote positions, Scott anticipated that senior NFS commanders in London would have activated dedicated lines of communication with the War Office to arrange support for the unavoidable and hazardous crossing to the Isle of Wight.

Regional Control for No.6 Region (South) at Marlborough House, Reading.

But for now, what the Acting Column Officer had at his disposal was what he saw chalked on the board before him, the sum of Fire Force 14d Isle of Wight – the largest fire force in the history of the island, but one that was being rapidly swallowed up by the evolution of events at the mouth of the Medina.

Scott, trained to act in accord with NFS doctrine by staff instructors at the NFS College at Saltdean, applied the same dogma locally. Inching units across the Isle of Wight map from location to location, to stop, and await further orders by telephone before proceeding further. Those within and nearest Cowes and East Cowes vacated their stations, trailer-pump posts and Action Stations under Company Officer Brunner’s orders and headed straight into the epicentre of the attack. Message in-trays at The Grange began to fill, the Control Officer verified them and passed them to Leading Firewoman Taylor, who, assisted by her team, began moving discs bearing appliance callsigns about the board and annotating details in chalk.

Scott observed Brunner’s plan of attack in chalk, identified the gaps at the fringe of District 3 and ordered reinforcements to advance on those positions.

Fireman Dennis Russell and the crew of the Stag Inn Trailer-pump Post received orders to disregard the fires in the forest and despatch at once to the fire station at Victoria Road, Cowes, and report direct to Brunner. We set off to Cowes with our old Buick, but we were held up by an enormous crater, large enough to put a double-decker bus in it. However, after taking some desperate detours we did manage to make our way to Cowes headquarters. A similar sized bomb had dropped into Cowes cemetery, the result of which defies explanation.

On arrival at Victoria Road the station was all but deserted, all resources were already deployed but for the sub-divisional Control Operator who remained calm and dutiful in her office amid the bedlam. She advised they’d find Company Officer Brunner somewhere at or near the J.S. White’s site, and off they went. Once there they were given their orders; I and another chap were sent to the J.S. White’s shipyard to replace a couple of casualties and try to contain fires in a paint shop. The paint shop was on a jetty and tied up to the jetty was the Polish destroyer Blyskawica firing all guns at the bombers above.

With the Stag Inn station empty, a trailer-pump crew was sent from Ryde to standby at that location, just another of Column Officer Scott’s dwindling contingencies inching its way across the HQ map, one step closer to the action. Among them, 16-year-old Fireman Harris, recalled; We were sent to ensure Parkhurst Forest didn’t burn down. Their efforts at rural firefighting were to be curtailed as priorities shifted and for a second time the forest was left to burn.

Bill Turner had watched his former colleagues leave Ryde. Standing on the top of the Town Hall barely able to contain the frustration at his impotence, he spotted the hooded lights of fire engines and ARP vehicles as they started up in town and began to move out towards the increasing glow from the direction of Cowes. In the clear dark sky, he faintly observed darker shapes yaw, pitch and roll about the sky to the north of the Island, hear the growl of their engines, the whine of the bombs and feel the alarming shudder of the Town Hall beneath his feet as explosives struck targets so many miles away. He noticed that the intensity of the fires was such that its glare began to illuminate the mainland shore across the Solent.

The 41-year-old locomotive fireman was struck in the face and blinded. An ARP first aid party rushed to assist, guiding his way to their waiting transport and from there to Northwood House. In the aftermath Fireman Groundsell’s vision was to return but not with the clarity of before.

Nearby in Arctic Road, more ARP first aid parties were beginning to arrive, among them was Peter Sprack from Shanklin. He too came to the rescue of injured persons and ferried them to Northwood House, the district ARP Control Centre where the casualty clearing station was located. As Peter and his colleagues returned to Arctic Road a Luftwaffe pilot strafed the street with bullets. Sprack dived beneath the ambulance, albeit it soft sided he recalled it made you feel safer. In the same road Ryde fireman and J.S. White’s crane driver Albert Ted Hall, medically discharged from the army due to a wound sustained in the First World War, entered a blasted house in response to a remark that a life could be saved from within. Albert of West Street, Ryde, entered in darkness, dust and debris, and fell through the shattered floor to the basement. Injured and unable to execute his own recovery he lay stricken while his boots melted from the heat of the fire for some hours before being rescued. His daughter Sandra described stoicism that typified the era in her brief reflection, He’d been away from home for over two days, with Mum going frantic, but carrying on with her work at WVS canteens.

Arctic Road, Cowes, in the aftermath.

In Newport railway firewatcher and air raid patrolman Harry Fulwood watched with terrified awe the scene to the north. Helpless to do anything but observe his own small patch as wave after wave of Luftwaffe aircraft bore down on the mouth of the Medina he could only stand by the quay, and watch, and hope.

Philip Kendrick and Pamela Warsap had been to the cinema in Newport, missed the last bus and were walking home to Cowes when the raid began. Pamela recalled the experience many years later; The raid started soon after we left Newport, and we kept ducking into the bushes. Finally, we got to my home in Cowes and found it had been the target of incendiary bombs. My mother sent Phil, my sister Joyce and myself to Ward Avenue (the address of a family friend), thinking it was further away from the town.

At 5 Mill Hill Road Dorothy Evelyn Day, huddled under the stairs with three children fearing both for herself and her husband Henry, an NFS fireman, who’d briefly embraced his crippled wife in his arms before running out the door, helmet, and axe-belt in hand, on hearing the siren. Smelling smoke Dorothy told the children to remain beneath the stairs as she struggled upwards to locate the source. She looked around but saw nothing and returned to the children. Shortly afterwards two Policemen came in through the back door, and one said, “your roof is on fire”. One went and got a stirrup pump and a bucket of water, and they both went upstairs. One got into the roof through a clap and played water on to the fire and the incendiary bomb which was causing it. The other one who got into the roof was called Stan by the other, and I have since found out it was P.C. Humphrey. Stanley Humphrey, P.C. No. 23, was off duty that night but had dashed to Cowes Police Station on hearing the siren.

Recalling the event six weeks later, Dorothy wrote, The time they were working on the fire was at the height of the raid, and bombs were falling all around, and I think it was very brave of them, especially P.C. Humphrey, who was actually inside the roof putting out the fire, which was got under control very quickly and did very little damage. He eventually got a shovel and scooped the incendiary bomb out into the yard through the hole in the roof while it was still burning.

Generally, I would like to say that I consider the very prompt and brave action taken by these two Policemen in noticing and putting out the fire so quickly to be very courageous and praiseworthy. No doubt had the fire not been got under control it would have done a lot of damage not only to my house, but to the whole row of houses. They were both very cool and calm and did a lot towards helping me through a very frightening time and comforting the children, and I was extremely grateful to them for their help.

At the end of Ward Avenue were just three houses; Nuneham, Comrie and Burnt Wood. The latter being the home of the Dinnis family towards which Philip Kendrick and Pamela Warsap were slowly picking their way through the rain of bombs. Comrie was the home of the district ARP Officer Sidney Burchell. Throughout this spell Burchell, a First World War veteran who sustained a wound leaving one arm paralysed, was deploying his resources with skill and determination amid the most trying conditions at Northwood House as casualties poured in and exceeded the capacity of the clearing station.

At Burnt Wood Fred and Doris Dinnis had been settling down for the night when the raid began. Sometime before they had repositioned both their bed and their young son’s cot to the downstairs front room. From within Doris heard something nearby. As written by their son Alan, born in the following year, working from tape recordings of his father’s spoken memories; They soon noticed a light glowing through the dining room blackout curtains and found it to be from an incendiary bomb that had landed harmlessly in the middle of the back lawn. Fred had prepared himself for incendiaries by filling four sandbags made from old stripy pillow tick. He packed these around the bomb as it started to flare up. He thought it wise to have some water available in case the fire got out of control, so he filled a galvanised bath and every bucket he could find. With a full bucket in his hand, he left the kitchen by the back door and met his neighbour Harry Cole coming from the direction of the bomb.

 As Fred and Harry came face to face, the latter spoke; “Here Fred, I’ve just been seeing to your bomb, you didn’t finish it. Why don’t you join us in the shelter, you’ll be safer there.

 At that moment there was an intensity of flak overhead and Harry Cole hopped over the low wall that divided their gardens and made his way home. He had an air raid shelter constructed of brick with a concrete roof, close to the back of his house. Fred put down his bucket and made his way indoors. Doris had meanwhile wrapped Robin in his cot blanket, and they too climbed over the wall, preparing to join the Cole family in their shelter. Fred had second thoughts; the short journey through his neighbour’s garden would be just too dangerous, so he ushered Doris and Robin back to where they had agreed was the safest place to be, which was the cupboard under the stairs. Fred stood in the cupboard doorway making sure that they were comfortable.

 In a sudden flash of light, heat, and a tremendous roar the kitchen door was blown from its hinges, narrowly missing Fred, before smashing in pieces across the hall floor. The front door blew open and Fred thought he could see the Perspex window of an aeroplane in the garden. He then realised that he was wrong; it was the ‘leaded light’ house windows blown into a similar shape. Every window of the house was smashed, the back door was thrown open and there were gaps blasted in the dividing wall between the two main bedrooms.

 Fred, Doris, and Robin were unhurt but severely shaken; Fred knew the house had taken a very near miss and he was concerned about its structural safety. His mind was working overtime thinking about what to do for the best when a soldier appeared at the back door.

 “Are there any troubles here – anyone hurt?” enquired the soldier. It had been a terrifying experience, but Fred replied that he didn’t think so. “Well”, said the soldier, “there’s a dreadful job next door – may we have something for bandages and a bowl of water please?” Doris tore a sheet from their bed for him and Fred filled a bowl from the kitchen tap. After a few minutes the soldier returned. “Excuse me”, he said, “but you ought to know who is supposed to be down here. Will you come and have a look?” Fred followed the soldier.

A contingent of the Cowes ARP at Northwood House. Front and centre is Sidney Burchell.

At Northwood House Ethel Maude Batty, Message Supervisor of the ARP Report Centre, furiously scribbled on and passed messages to and from ARP Officer Sidney Burchell who sent despatches to ARP Control at Hazards House. Intending to reach NFS headquarters at The Grange he imparted information to the fire service of growing fires that were beyond the capacity of the street fire parties or wardens. In several places two or more fires had converged to become one enormous conflagration. If these were able to converge, an unstoppable firestorm may have developed.

As communications regarding the fires continued, Fred Dinnis was following the soldier to Baring Road; A German aircraft had dropped a stick of three bombs. The one that damaged Burnt Wood had landed on the boiler house of Harry Cole’s greenhouse. The next bomb had been a direct hit on Crathie, Harry Cole’s house, and Fred saw that it no longer existed. Corner Stones, the home of Customs Officer Mr Herbert Nundy, was half demolished.

In the road outside and covered with a sheet was a body. From beneath the sheet protruded a pair of distinctive golfing shoes.

Fred felt sick as he stated, “that’s all I need to see, those are Harry Cole’s shoes.”

Harry’s wife and daughter Isabella had died in the blast. Cole’s three-year-old grandson had miraculously survived, with injuries to his head, and was recovered by the soldiers.

Isabella was Sidney Burchell’s wife, the injured three-year-old was his son.

The news was conveyed to Northwood House. Remarking on the event in her testimony weeks later, Ethel Batty stated; Very early in the first raid at Cowes, Mr Burchell, who was on duty as District ARP Officer in charge of his Report Centre at Northwood House, Cowes, was informed rather abruptly that the house in the neighbourhood of the Report Centre in which were his wife, his son aged three years, and his father-in-law and mother-in-law had been struck and that all the occupants of the household been buried and were feared to be dead. Actually, his infant son injured though he was in the head, was the only survivor. Mr Burchell did not leave his post but continued duty throughout the night, the following day, and the night after.

He has set us a standard of duty it will be difficult to follow, for during the whole time I was able to turn to him for direction and he was always there.

Following the beginning of the attack; The family all went to the shelter in Uncle Bob’s garden. The noise and pounding of the bombs and the continued barrage of gun fire from the ship is indescribable. My job and three others were to go around the back passages and gardens in the event of such a raid, putting sandbags onto the incendiaries to stop the flames lighting up the area. These I found to be so fierce that I couldn’t get close to them, so had to throw them on to douse the flames and of course we ran out of supplies. I put out four incendiaries.

Lines of telephonic communication were rapidly dissected by fire and explosions. Messages reached both County ARP headquarters at Hazards House and NFS headquarters at The Grange via a combination of ARP, NFS, Police, and military motorcyclists.

23:09 – County ARP received reports of incendiaries scattered across Somerton aerodrome.

23:11 – HE’s dropped at Saunders Roe.

At 23:15 Commander Francki recorded that the Blyskawica was surrounded by fires – but the enemy were still diving and scoring direct hits. In the same moment he charged a party of his men to set smoke candles to the leeside of the river, providing a smokescreen that covered a wide area. He also despatched his British signalman to Northwood House to liaise with ARP Officer Sidney Burchell and offer the ship’s crew where they could best be used.

Burchell, barely having absorbed the news of his wife’s death and infant son’s injury, remained focussed and turned the signalman’s offer to NFS Company Officer Brunner who needed more hands to fight the fires. Within five minutes Francki had sent 20 men shoreside for the purpose. At The Grange Hilda Taylor attempted to add the presence of the rapidly growing band of ad-hoc firefighters to the blackboard. The Fire Situation panel was now cluttered with scrawled notes in chalk and the majority of the discs embellished with appliance callsigns now hung from pegs other than those of their parent stations.

Acting Column Officer Scott recognised he had little in reserve. A message received from his ARP counterpart at Hazards House, Brigadier-General Herbert Evan Charles Bayley Nepean, confirmed that the situation was the same among the rescue and first aid parties. By May 1942 not a single enemy attack had featured the use of gas. Encouraged by this and the fact that use of the weapon was, so far, absent on this night, County ARP despatched its decontamination specialists to work alongside the Rescue Squads, picking through the rubble to find and save lives. It was a gamble by the five-times mentioned in despatches Brigadier, but with lives to save and hands needed to save them it was a prudent redistribution of resources.

Soiled and sweating after firefighting in the loft space at Mill Hill, P.C. Stanley Humphrey wasted no time to find useful toil. Inspector Dobson later wrote of Humphrey; During the first 20 minutes numerous incendiary and H.E. bombs were dropped in the vicinity of the Police Station, putting out of action all telephones, water supply and electric light. When three separate blocks of business premises around the Station were set alight by incendiary bombs this officer was the senior of a number who forced their way into the roofs of these premises and succeeded in getting the fires under control. From one of these premises, he comforted and soothed the women and children and assisted them to a safer shelter.

At the same time the roadway around the Station were thick with incendiary bombs, and I witnessed P.C. Humphrey and others tackling these and was impressed by his leadership and courage, and I consider that it was materially due to these fires being got under control that the Police Station escaped serious damage.

At the time the first attack was as its highest P.C. Humphrey, as the section Motorcycle Despatch Rider, was instructed to get through to the nearest telephone to inform the Chief Constable’s Office of the serious situation and ask for all possible assistance. He at once proceeded on this task, and I appreciated when I gave him the order that he would be in danger the whole time due to bombs falling, fires and wreckage strewn about the roads. At the time enemy aircraft were machine-gunning the streets.

Although the front wheel of his machine was punctured, he was successful in reaching Northwood Camp, some three miles out of the town, and reported the position to Police Headquarters at Newport, from whom I received immediate assistance in police reinforcements. During the time he was at the Camp, the Brigadier Commanding, 214^th Infantry Brigade, requested information of the situation, which he was able to supply, as a result of which the Military Wireless Van was outside the Police Station in a remarkably short time, and troops were drafted into the neighbourhood.

On arriving back at the Police Station, this Officer gave me the utmost assistance as Despatch Rider, in touring the district to keep me informed as to the position generally.

Among his many duties and unconcerned by his rapidly deflating tyre, Humphrey was sent to Northwood House ARP centre to request that the WVS Cowes Centre Organiser opened the Trinity Hall Rest Centre. In typical WVS manner, the strength of preparations for such an event ensured that the Rest Centre was equipped with hot water for tea and warming bottles before the first of the displaced townsfolk staggered, dust laden and forlorn through its doors.  In the space of the next hour the WVS opened a further six centres across the district.

Throughout, Harry Fulwood, the railway firewatcher of Newport, remained transfixed. His nerves were to be shaken at approximately 23:30 when enemy aircraft, presumably feeling the heat of the Blyskawica’s resolute gunfire, broke south in a bid to return to France still partly laden with bombs. Three discarded H.E.’s thumped into the town, destroying houses in Medina Avenue, including number 123 where music teacher 59-year-old John George Cheyney Kirkup was killed. His neighbour Ada Dyer suffered the same fate.

Another enemy pilot, taking a different course, dropped a single H.E. over Ventnor. The County ARP message log recorded the receipt of a message from Ventnor Town Hall’s district ARP centre at 23:45 indicating that the projectile narrowly missed the Pier. Accounts conjecture that the aircraft was then shot down and plunged into the sea. What is known for sure is that the Nettlestone anti-aircraft battery bagged a confirmed kill at 23:50.

Three minutes after the Ventnor bomb, a message arrived from the Head Warden in Medina Avenue; Damage Shide End of Medina Avenue. Two houses demolished, gas and water mains broken, a few casualties. On receipt of the same news at The Grange, Column Officer Scott, who couldn’t be blamed for double-checking the address to ensure his parents were safe, despatched one of his dwindling Newport units to Medina Avenue fearing the potential for a gas fire; ARP control despatched a Repair Squad to isolate the supply.

In Cowes, the area around the home of Edwin Francis White, 1 Milton Road, was taking such a pounding that he dressed and flew down the stairs, two at a time, and headed out to the back-yard shelter. He was joined by so many neighbours there was little room to move. In his memoire he wrote how a nearby explosion lifted the shelter and its occupants off the ground, dumping them unceremoniously back to earth in a writhing mass. Assuming, correctly as it turns out, that one day his recollections may be used in a suitable publication, he wrote, The womenfolk were terrified and needed some attention (you can cut that out if you wish, for we were all terrified). Among those he assisted from the jumble of limbs was a neighbour who died six weeks later having never recovered from the emotional shock.

On the stroke of midnight, as his gunners maintained a fearsome fire, Commander Francki despatched a further 30 of his men to fight the fires at Saunders Roe. At the same moment telephonists at Hazards House reported to Brigadier Nepean that all telecommunications had been lost with the district. The same was reported to The Grange where Hilda Taylor’s ladies repeatedly attempted to contact stations to the north of the Island. Company Officer Hugh Archie Spanner, a 28-year-old draper of 38 Cypress Road who became the Island’s fire service communications specialist, began working on the wireless alternative but without reliable transceivers in the affected area the chance of success was limited. No evidence has been discovered to indicate that the FF14D mobile control truck was deployed, but it’s hard to imagine that it wasn’t.

After four minutes of furious and futile effort at the switchboard Brigadier Nepean issued the general order that all communications were from now on to be sent by despatch rider. Motorcycles roared away from Hazards House in the town and along Staplers Road from The Grange, their riders with the modest but critical memo papers stuffed in tunics or wallets. Communications with the so far unaffected civil defence districts were checked and found to be in order.

The actions of another of Pointer’s men, 30-year-old William Leonard Bolt of York Avenue, was noted by his chief, As soon as the alarm was sounded, he got the pump to work and when the buildings were burning furiously, he ran out lines of hose while flames were leaping in all directions. Under my instructions he also got the foam branch to work on to the Dope shop which, when the flames were smothered, it allowed a clearer passage for the firemen to get to the waterfront.

In the official records the following was reported of Bolt; Fireman Bolt showed great courage and initiative. He managed to get into the Columbia Works after being beaten back by the flames in the first attempt. He then ran additional hose but saw that the foam appliance was necessary so proceeded through the blitz to the main works, brought back the 30-gallon foam pump, found this was insufficient so joined up the foam branch pipe of the NFS pump and thus got the fire under control.

Further descriptions of the efforts of Chorley and Hodges were to be recorded after the event; As soon as the incendiaries were dropped on the Cornubia Works of Saunders Roe Ltd., Mr Chorley and a man named Hodges, assisted in getting the two trailer pumps into action and then decided to man the Fire Float. A High Explosive bomb blew the skiff into the river but finding an old scow the two men managed to paddle out to the Fire Float and shortly had five hoses delivering water to the shore. A stick of bombs nearly swamped the boat and a blazing launch which had broken adrift was fended off by boat hooks. To add to the difficulties, enemy planes were sweeping the river with machine gun bullets, and two holes were made in the hull. Nevertheless, these men kept the pumps running throughout the raid and their action materially aided in getting the fires under control.

Also wearing the distinctive Tommy helmet bearing the winged logo and letters SARO-FB, was 64-year-old part-time company fireman and bricklayer Harry Wallace Hall of 37 Royal Exchange, Newport. Harry had only been firefighting for fourteen-months. Despite his age and a horrendous experience at the beginning of the attack, he was noted for his action; When standing at the entrance to the Solent Works fire pump station, the first bomb of the raid fell nearby knocking Hall unconscious. When he recovered, he was bruised and bleeding from the nose, and his clothes were partly tore off. Hall crawled to the main entrance to the works just as a bomb exploded on the roof. Realising that some individuals might be trapped by the debris, he carried out a search before the fire gutted the works and was able to satisfy himself that all had escaped, and so reported to the Works Manager. Hall remained on the spot assisting in rescue work and in fighting fires until 7 a.m. on the 5^th May when he felt too ill to continue. Chief Officer Pointer added to the report; This fireman was on duty at Solent Works… and did some fine work. Although injured he stayed at his post but when told to go home, he still stayed and worked till he was exhausted. I cannot speak too highly of him the short time I was there, for I had to go to Cornubia and other places, but I must say this man when I left was still working not thinking of himself at all.

Similar heroics were being carried out by the firemen of J.S. White’s under their Chief Officer Alfred John Carpenter. These men also wore helmets bearing their company title but as a fully affiliated section of the NFS they also bore the badge of the nationals and number 14, indicating they were an integral part of the Island’s Fire Force. For his courage in leadership Carpenter was to be formally commended in the London Gazette in December that year in addition to receiving a signed and framed testimonial from Winston Churchill. Ten years after the events of May 1942 he was awarded the British Empire Medal. Active that night as Chief Officer of another J.S. White’s site was former Cowes fireman Percy Edgar Tilbury. Percy was 54 on the night of the attack and had many years of fire service experience behind him, beginning as a boy knocker-up. He was the town’s Second Officer by the time the NFS was formed, promoted to senior NFS fireman at the site where he was employed as full-time gatekeeper. Although White’s firemen were a part of the NFS as an affiliated company brigade, Column Officer Scott was limited as to where he could deploy them. Additionally, given the scope of the fires at the works, both Carpenter and Tilbury had little choice but to concentrate all their resources on company territory.

In Alfred Street, East Cowes, 16-year-old Cecil Wright had been chuckling about the antics of Laurel and Hardy when he returned home from the cinema. He’d gone to bed where the hilarity of the evening’s entertainment petered out to be replaced by a sense of doom; Nor was I alone in this because I could hear a dog continuously howling somewhere in the distance. When the siren sounded it was as a confirmation of my forebodings. As the raid developed, his father, as was his habit, went outside to gauge the strength of the attack. He hurried back inside and urged his family a speedy exit to the shelter.

The next two hours were a jumble of sounds and smells, aircraft diving, the scream of bombs, machine gunning and anti-aircraft pom poms firing, the explosion of bombs, the drifting smell of explosives mixed with brick dust, women praying and singing hymns and all the while the increasing light of leaping flames as the incendiary bombs set the area ablaze. My father and I were the only two adult males in our part of the shelter and we sat facing each other in the doorway. I recall seeing the spurts of flame as the incendiaries hit the ground in surrounding gardens.

One of these bombs fell in the entry of our shelter, out of sight of my father but within my view. Alerted by the brightness of the burning bomb my father acted with great speed and presence of mind. Taking hold of the tail fin he threw the bomb away from the shelter towards the foot of our neighbour’s garden. It was about this time that men in the other part of the shelter remembered old bedridden Tommy Guttridge, an octogenarian living a few doors away and with great bravery they set off to rescue him, which they duly accomplished. Tommy was no stranger to danger having fought in several wars.

Speaking after the events Cecil’s sister Marjorie confessed to also suffering foreboding in the hours before the raid; I was in the habit of sleeping on a mattress under a table, with my clothes nearby at the ready. That night, although my parents were unaware of it, I slept in my clothes – even my shoes. Sure enough I was awakened by my father and told to hurry with him to the shelter. This was in the garden of our house only a few yards from our back door and catered for our neighbours as well as our family. As we ran together the bombs were falling and there were machine guns firing, mingling with the noise of anti-aircraft guns. Not too far from us was the River Medina where the Polish ship was putting up a good fight. The dust, created by the bombed buildings, penetrated our shelter, and coated our mouths and throats. Thankfully my mother had left a milk jug to soak with water from the tap and as water pipes had been broken no water could be obtained in the normal way. Someone went back into our house and fetched the jug of milky water and so we were able to relieve our discomfort somewhat.

Nearby, Arthur Cross of 20 Adelaide Grove, 53-year-old plumber and leader of an ARP Rescue Squad, was desperately trying to rescue a family from a collapsed structure observed by James Walkinshaw of 1 Moruya Cottages, Grange Road, who stood by as First Aid Party Leader, waiting and hoping that the Squad would reach and recover the casualties; Cross and his party worked with their hands in extricating six persons from under a staircase of a house at the base of a gable end which was apparently in imminent danger of collapsing. He excited admiration by the workmanlike speed and careful manner in which he handed over the casualties to me. Of the rest of Cross’s party, Leader W. Wintherbottom and Rescue Party man F. Sheath shared most largely with Cross in the danger from the threatened collapse of the gable end.

ARP Officer Sidney Burchell, on hearing of the conditions that the rescuers were working under, remarked; I cannot speak too highly of this Rescue Party. And of Cross in particular; This man has shown consistent bravery and disregard for his own safety. Imbued with multiple witness accounts after the event, ARP Controller Percival White pressured the authorities to recognise Cross’s feats; This appears to be a case of gallantry. I suggest that at least a high commendation appropriate if not some decoration.

One who was less than impressed with the Isle of Wight’s system of casualty clearance was Brigadier J.G. Morgan who had formed the ARP in his home district of South Wales before creating and mobilising the 160 (Welsh) Field Ambulance, R.A.M.C., both to Northern Ireland and Iceland. Just weeks before the attack the Brigadier took up the position of IW Chief Medical Officer, stating that; At that stage there was very little organisation to sort out civilian casualties.

Morgan didn’t hesitate to identify and launch a plan; I organised reception facilities in anticipation of enemy aerial attack. I was able to bring into play knowledge gathered in organising ARP and in commanding the field ambulance. I had taken over Ryde Pier Hotel* as a hospital and staffed it with British Red Cross and St Johns volunteers. I made an ambulance train to take the overflow from there to Totland Bay. I went to the Royal Yacht Squadron and arranged with them for a boat to evacuate casualties to the mainland. My initial appraisal had concluded that any raid was most likely to take place on Cowes where two new destroyers were under construction, and I therefore planned the evacuation routes on this basis. I also made the Prison into a CCS (casualty clearing station) Operating Theatre. During and after the raid I attended at the CCS to assist in emergency treatment in which we were helped by a Doctor from a French destroyer. All this gave me an insight into what was required in a mass casualty situation.

*The Brigadier’s statement regarding the Pier Hotel has to be inaccurate. In 1930 a bus turning tightly into Pier Street from the bottom of Union Street, rolled over and crashed into the hotel killing several passengers. Subsequently it was demolished as a hazard to traffic long before the war. It is tenuous but possible that the Brigadier may have mistaken the Royal Esplanade Hotel for the same, as some of the stained glass windows bearing the initials RPH were salvaged from the Pier Hotel and installed internally at the Esplanade.

At last, all enemy aircraft withdrew to the south, passing low over Mount Joy. An Observer positioned near the cemetery shook his head in disbelief as the bombers drone dissipated across the Channel juxtaposed by the sweetness of the nightingale’s song.

5 May 1942

It was 00:20 in the morning of Tuesday 5 May. For over 80 minutes bombers in wave after wave, sustained hell on the Medina. Commander Francki ensured the time was recorded in the ship’s log as his gunners and locally mounted anti-aircraft searchlights scoured the sky but found no targets.

When it became clear the bombers had departed, we left the shelter and took stock of the damage to our home; recalled Cecil Wright; It had received no direct hit, but the effects of blast were such that we could stand in the lower rooms and see the stars through the holes in the floor and roof overhead.

Throughout the street the surrounding ground was strewn shin deep with slate and rubble. Great yachts laid up in Marvin’s yard were ablaze and we watched two firemen helping a badly injured man up the hill towards the hospital. Father and I took a walk in the immediate area to find out the extent of the damage. As we passed the Castle Inn on the lower corner of Alfred Street the Publican’s son emerged and Father asked him if he might have a bottle of beer. Help yourself, was the reply, there’s a delayed action bomb inside. He then told us he was sheltering in the billiard room when the bomb came through the ceiling. We returned to our house and using a primus stove we were able to make tea for ourselves and our neighbours. At this point the elderly lady living next door upbraided my Father for the incendiary bomb incident, saying that he had burned down her fence.

While Cecil and his Father had been perusing the local area, two ARP wardens visited their home to check on the family, bringing much valued water. During this lull Mrs Ferguson who was in our shelter, and her children, were collected by a relative. Her husband was away in the army.

Edwin White also emerged from his shelter on the opposite side of the river to take a look around; Through reeking smoke I saw everything black, dust and heaps of rubble around. I could see the coal heap at Cowes jetty ablaze and also many more places; the old Naval College Osborne, Saunders Roe, Brading’s, Marvins, Groves and Guttridge at East Cowes side. J.S. White’s, Saunders, Pickfords, Marvins on the west side. Many private dwellings between these and all around were ablaze and with conflagrations within one could look through the back windows through the front windows, all was alight.

Dazed at the onslaught I thought of all my friends everywhere.

As he wandered in a stupor; By Warden’s whistles all in our vicinity were ordered away because it was unsafe, why we did not know at the time. A heavy missile was soon known to have fallen in the centre of the road two houses down from Ebenezer. This was then roped off, only the very curious (like myself) took the opportunity of further inspection. This revealed a circular hole 4ft diameter, surrounded by a weal of raised earth about 6ft high. We were told that 40ft down the hole and turned 20ft towards the houses there was an unexploded H.E. bomb of 2,000lbs.

At 00:24, Brigadier Nepean was satisfied for ARP Control to issue a county-wide Air Raid Warning White – the All-clear.

Alan Dinnis picks up the story of his father’s encounters after the all-clear; Fred set off for the town to see how his mother and sister were. On the way through Northwood Park, he met Harry Cole’s brother Arthur who enquired what was happening. It fell to Fred to tell Arthur that his brother, sister-in-law, and niece were all dead. Fred found his mother and Phyllis safe and well at their Birmingham Road shop.

The screams of bombers and explosions may have passed, but serenity didn’t prevail. On both sides of the river the thumping of heavy fire pumps and the high-pitched whine of the smaller trailer-pumps resonated amid the cries of those who emerged from shelters to see what, and who, they’d lost. ARP Rescue Squads kept up their efforts, calling occasional silences to listen for those they hoped may still be alive beneath the heaps of rubble and debris, before resuming the arduous business of sifting through shattered brick, block, stone, and timber with their bare hands. ARP skills in rescues from collapsed structures were building steadily, but the reality was that it was a rudimentary and highly hazardous undertaking.

Active defenders of the district, the anti-aircraft gunners of the Royal Artillery, the searchlight operators, the gunners of the Blyskawica and Free French Navy, could for the moment take a breather although Commander Francki took nothing for granted and tasked his men to immediately clear the decks and prepare the guns for the possibility of more action. In the streets came the shouts for wardens, firemen, rescuers and first aid parties to engage in tasks at more locations than their capacity could hope to engage at once. Policemen, soldiers, and sailors responded to the need alongside those of the civil population that were able to assist. Motorcycle messengers precariously weaved between the worst of the debris and had little choice but to rumble awkwardly over the shallower piles in a determined effort to get messages to and from The Grange and Hazards House.

00:30 – from Cowes via a messenger who arrived at Hazards House; Rescue party to corner of Wyatts Lane and Pallance Road. All services responding. All phones out of order. Electricity gone.

00:35 – from County ARP headquarters to Ventnor ARP Control – Send rescue parties, first aid parties, and ambulances to RVP at East Cowes Town Hall. Reserve only one party of each service in area.

The latter part of that message may have been the result of consultation between Brigadier Nepean of the ARP and Hector Scott of the NFS. A few minutes after the Ventnor message was despatched the Column Officer of the Island’s fire services issued similar, leaving districts 1 (Newport), 2 (Ryde), 4 (Sandown-Shanklin), 5 (Ventnor), and 6 (West Wight) with just one fire appliance and crew in each.

Given that a conservative estimate suggests the Island was supplied with more than 50 major pumps and trailer-pumps during this period, it can be assumed that over 40 were deployed to the mouth of the Medina. With mains water supplies interrupted by bomb damage, a mass of suction hose must have been stretching into the river from multiple base pumps to draw water ashore and disperse through a complex of snaking hose relays to all corners of the district. It was for this that the Island’s NFS firemen had been specially trained. Fighting fires caused by a raid, notwithstanding the additional threat of enemy bombardment, differed little in technique from the same operation during peacetime, but the sourcing and conveying over protracted distances of heavy and sustained volumes of water was a specialist task for which the nationalised service was skilled and prepared to undertake in a manner peculiar to war conditions where lack of mains water was the assumption.

Column Officer Scott was impressed with the work of Hilda Taylor and her team to have maintained a legible and logical board from which he could instantly make an appraisal of the situation in either town, in addition to knowing the location and strength of his meagre reserves. So far, from Area HQ, no definite word had been received regarding the arrival of mainland reinforcements. Given that Scott’s last message to Durley referred to the All-clear, he got the impression that a scaled down contingent wouldn’t arrive until daylight as reliefs for those who had worked through the night. Now was the time for him to get eyes on the situation. He booked out of The Grange Control Room, left the building, crossed the garden to the workshops and ordered a vehicle and driver be made ready in an instant.

On the roof of Ryde Town Hall firewatcher Bill Turner slumped back against the masonry of the clock tower. From six miles, the sounds, the tremors, and the smell, were more than enough for him to know that what they’d endured was dire. He felt utterly destitute, lonely, and useless, and swore at the Borough for insisting he resign from the fire service just to sit on that bloody roof.

At 00:39, fifteen minutes after issuing all-clear, ARP Officer Brigadier Nepean received a message at Hazards House that must have left the hands of Sidney Burchell at Northwood substantially earlier, Heavy raid. Fire in works. Some casualties. Fuller report to follow.

White had no option but to quench Regional ARP headquarters thirst for information with the issue of a concise summary one minute later; Major damage at Cowes. Many fires. All assistance despatched from other areas. No information available yet.

Eleven minutes later Ryde’s ARP Control Centre at Caversham House issued the following to County headquarters; 2 F.A.P.’s, 3 Ambulances, 1 Rescue Party, have left for East Cowes.

01:00 to County ARP headquarters from Chief Warden, East Cowes; Heavy raid – fires in works.

01:00 County NFS headquarters to Ryde sub-divisional control; Send remaining appliance.

The solitary remaining Ryde appliance was the Y9 heavy trailer-pump (most likely a 500gpm Scammell) located at Edward Street. Mobilisation of some trailer-pumps still relied on the goodwill of those with vehicles capable of pulling them. On this occasion it was the 2-ton Chevrolet coal lorry, DL8157, belonging to coal merchant and part-time fireman Jack Fountaine. Jack, of 23 Surrey Street, thumped his lorry into life as firemen Reginald Bartrum and Hill hitched the pump.

The sound of an engine starting amid the relative silence in Ryde aroused Bill Turner from his restless torpor. Looking eagerly for the shrouded headlights he had no idea if his close friend and former messenger colleague Colin Weeks was on the appliance, still at Edward Street, or had been somewhere in the middle of the madness to the north the whole time.

Unknown to Bill, Colin, the teenaged younger son of Ryde’s mayor, and his good friend Herbert Bert Dewey, a skilled musician, bandmaster, and owner of the Oakdene guest house in St Johns Road, had for some time been amid the action, dousing fires in East Cowes as they found them and labouring alongside the ARP Rescue Squads in a desperate bid to save lives. Company Officer Heller, Ryde’s senior fireman, scouted around the area encompassing Clarence Road, Alfred Street and Adelaide Grove, checking on the welfare and the progress made by his men of Ryde, seeing the anguish on their faces and the soot laden sweat running painfully into their eyes. Fuel was needed to maintain the pumps that powered the thundering water relay, a message had to be sent to The Grange for more supplies.

01:10 Brigadier Nepean issued several messages in quick succession, the first to the stalwart ladies of the WVS.

WVS to send all available tea vans to East and West Cowes – and supplies from Parkhurst.

Floating bridge open again.

Military sending all available ambulances.

Casualties heavy.

01:20; Ventnor ARP Officer confirms; F.A.P. and Ambulance on route.

He hadn’t warned them of the extent of debris scattered about the roadway and inhibited by shrouded headlamps Jack Fountaine took exquisite care as he picked his way past Jubilee Recreation Ground. From the load-bed, Firemen Bartrum and Hill stared over the distinctive chimneys of the Frank James Hospital, perfectly silhouetted by the bright pulsating splashes of red, yellow, and orange beyond.

At Brigadier Morgan’s instructions a Royal Army Medical Corps unit arrived at East Cowes Town Hall where medical services of the casualty clearance station were struggling to cope with the steady stream of walking wounded and those brought by stretcher. At 01:30 Hazards House received the message, Military field ambulance service functioning at East Cowes.

At the same time Company Officer Max Heller, a dedicated fireman descended of German parentage, concentrated on the needs of the operation in and around the East Cowes gas works; The crew, consisting of F. Hilton, W. Mason, J. Goddard, and H. Budden, were put to work to deal with a large fire which embraced the Gas Works, the East Cowes Sailing Club boathouse and Store. A number of motorboats and sailing craft were standing on stocks in the slipway adjoining. The fireground was on the sea side of Clarence Road, East Cowes.

The whole of the buildings were ablaze. A large store of coke was on fire and the fumes from a Plant were sweeping over the firemen as they were at work.

Heller rallied further men to augment the others as the risk of the flames coming into contact with the gas holder compelled urgent intervention. Fireman Hugh Weeks of 122 Arthur Street (no relation to Colin Weeks), Francis Arthur Edward (manager of A. Jones and Sons, 59 Union Street, Ryde) and Fireman Taylor joined Firemen William George Mason of 23 Union Street, Fireman James Charles Goddard from Brighton living at 68 Well Street, and Fireman Henry Francis Budden of 89 West Street, who were also assisted by SARO Home Guardsman Ben Coles. In his keenness Coles went to the front and took possession of a firefighting branch as the firemen hauled more heavy charged hose forward.

Heller continued; When I arrived on the scene one of the firemen had just been overcome by the fumes and taken out to Clarence Road to recover. This was Fireman Budden, slipping into unconsciousness and unable to save himself his Ryde colleagues dragged him to fresh air. A second man was sick, and the others were suffering severely through the effects of the fumes. I was at once approached with a request that permission be given for the men to withdraw until breathing apparatus could be obtained owing to the danger of the fumes. I saw that the building against the gasholder was well alight and that the flames were licking the side of the holder making it essential that the firefighting operations should be continued without delay. Ben Coles recalled; Suddenly I found the hose jerking like a mad thing in my hands and turned around to see the rest of the hose team running from the scene as there was imminent danger of explosion, so I ran after them.

Heller added; Elementary first-aid precautions were taken by using coverings for the mouths and the men were rallied. They then again attacked the fires and by good teamwork, coupled with extra strenuous efforts, the building that was on fire nearest to the gasholder was concentrated upon and the fire brought under control.

Subsequent examination showed that the skin of the gasholder was severely blistered but not compromised.

Writing after the event, NFS East Cowes Section Leader R.E. Hannam recalled; Whilst on duty in Clarence Road, I was impressed by the devotion to duty of men working in the immediate vicinity of East Cowes Gas Works. During the early stages of the firefighting there, choking fumes were coming from a burning heap of purifying materials (oxide of iron) on the waterfront of the Gas Works. Four men, who I believe were part of a Ryde crew, were in a particularly dangerous spot, working in a narrow lane at the rear of cottages between J.S. White’s property and the Gas Works. Although almost overcome with fumes they prevented the fire from spreading and eventually reaching a large gasholder. Their action undoubtedly played a big part in saving the Gas Works.

At 01:36 Ventnor’s Chief Warden confirmed with Hazards House that they had despatched a further Rescue Squad headed for East Cowes.

By then Acting Column Officer Scott had seen comparatively little but it was enough. His attempt to traverse the district by vehicle was difficult, hazardous and if anything, a nuisance to those moving around the streets engaged in rescues and firefighting. Realising that his role required him to remain as contactable commander at The Grange, he instructed his driver to return him there.

At Hazards House Brigadier Nepean surveyed his control board. Almost every resource he possessed had been deployed to West and East Cowes, plus a few at the scene of other random locations where departing bombers had dropped their loads. Dozens of vehicles, hundreds of items of specialised equipment and thousands of ARP, WVS and other civil defence personnel had swamped the area, but still he received more bad news, more requests for help. He was compelled to gamble his remaining assets.

01:44 – from County ARP headquarters to all stations; Despatch all remaining resources to East and West Cowes.

Nepean slumped back in a chair. He hoped, and prayed, that the Luftwaffe wasn’t planning a second attack elsewhere on the Island.   

Six minutes later ARP headquarters received a message from Sidney Burchell, who remained alert and utterly focused on his task despite the news of his wife’s death; Casualties distributed between Frank James Hospital, Osborne Hospital, the County Hospital Ryde, Parkhurst Military Hospital, and the Shanklin Home of Rest. Among the casualties was Burchell’s three-year-old son, though he had no idea to which location he’d been taken or of his current condition.

At 02:10 Caversham House, Ryde’s ARP headquarters, confirmed that the last resource had departed. When trailer-pump Y9 had left, so too had the last NFS resource. The same pattern was repeated around the Island in all five unaffected districts. Fire stations lay empty, bi-fold doors wide open, ARP garages and offices deserted. Cigarettes smouldered to ash in trays, tea went cold in cups and the staff of sub-divisional control rooms staff sat back in their seats with nothing remaining to dispatch.

Nepean and Scott had played their final cards. There was nothing left. Had the Luftwaffe returned to launch a second attack on any other part of the Island, there were no civil defence or NFS units ready to respond. Column Officer Scott had been let down by the much lauded NFS mobilising scheme. In the words of the narrator of a 1941 Ministry of Information 22-minute movie describing the scheme, Through this chain of control every NFS appliance can be mobilised to deal with an emergency no matter where it may arise. It had been proven to achieve that with precision on the mainland, but insufficient plans had been secured to achieve the final and comparatively minor five-mile hop across the Solent.

02:25 – from East Cowes Chief Warden to ARP Control; Columbia yard destroyed. J.S. White’s and gasworks on fire (as by then Ryde's firemen had this area under control it can be assumed this message was slow to arrive by rider).

Further messages confirmed that three ARP vehicles, KYF 9113 and KYF 9121 were destroyed, and a third, KGW 9501 was on fire. But there were signs that some of the largest conflagrations were beginning to recede. Commander Francki ordered some of his men at the west of the river to return to ship. At 02:35 Brigadier Nepean sent the bold message to Region, Situation under general control. Five minutes later another party of sailors returned to the Blyskawica, this time from East Cowes.

The focus of the operation was shifting. As the fear of a firestorm decreased, attention shifted to the needs of people; promoting the survivability of those recovered from the debris. At 03:25 Commander Francki sent his ships doctor and a first aid party to the West Cowes First Aid Post.

Commanders, mentally shattered but stoically controlling operations, could see fatigue in their weary staff though they never faltered. By contrast a shameful band of East Cowes rogues saw opportunity in the dust and darkness and began looting abandoned houses.

The situation was far from over, but the combined efforts of civil defence workers, military personnel from home nations, the Commonwealth, France and Poland were making progress. Rivers of soot blackened water ran like tar to the Medina as the firemen continued to suppress the flames. Tape and markers were placed by ARP personnel to indicate what was safe, and what was not. Clearing stations managed the distribution of casualties to hospital care across the island, taken by ambulance and ad-hoc vehicles by drivers less fearful with the absence of aircraft overhead. Police together with ARP workers hastily cleared safe routes for persons and vehicles alike. The workload was exhausting, but few complained.

A telephone rang in Hazards House. Region had news. It wasn’t good. The Brigadier, in disbelief, had no option but to issue the message…

03:30 – issued from County ARP headquarters to all stations; Air Raid Warning Purple.

Purple was an extension to Yellow that was added to the scheme of warnings in the summer of 1940. The status of Purple was equivalent to Yellow but specifically ordered in hours of darkness to premises with lighting exemptions as an order to extinguish all lights. Observers on Mount Joy received the order and glanced northwards thinking that the order was of little consequence as sufficient fires remained to ensure there was no doubt as to the location of the district.

What concerned them more, and all those at the receiving end who rapidly spread the news throughout the stricken district, was that the full definition included Raiding aircraft are approaching the UK.

Please not here, thought the Brigadier. Not Cowes where they were beginning to control an apocalyptic situation, and not elsewhere on the Island where no resources remain to come to the aid of the people. Please not here.

The Mount Joy Observer wheeled about and faced the south. Straining to listen between the continued nightingale song. Oh my God. Can I hear them?

03:32 – from County ARP headquarters to all stations; Air Raid Warning Red.

Red requires little explanation, but for definition; Raiding aircraft are heading towards certain districts which may be attacked within from five to ten minutes. Such a message was only sent to districts believed to be the intended target.

In East Cowes, with the most serious fires surrounded, Company Officer Heller had begun to allow small parties of his firemen to take a break. When their turn came all converged on the WVS vans.

Budden, Goddard, and the other saviours of the gasworks had been the first to go, to grab a cup of tea and a sandwich. Taking a few minutes to ravenously consume the fare while resting on debris, their backs to broken walls, before returning to the pumps and relieving the next group.

As the enemy were inbound for the second time that night Ryde Fireman Colin Weeks and his friend Leading Fireman Bert Dewey were being attended by the stoic Alice Frances Hann who had politely refused the request from WVS headquarters to withdraw her van to a safer location away from the action. Hann was determined that the rescuers and firemen shouldn’t trek to the top of the hill for refreshment and remained in her van in Clarence Road.

Alice was born in Gatcombe in 1879. She married Tom in Southampton in 1903 and worried at home for the return of her husband, an artilleryman, who departed for overseas service with the Royal Garrison Artillery in the First World War. Shortly before the end of the war Tom, aged 42, was medically discharged with serious wounding from shrapnel and shot to both legs and the abdomen. Despite being listed as gravely ill Tom returned to his pre-war occupation as a butcher and the couple, with their children, relocated to East Cowes and established a shop at the convergence of Clarence and Yarborough roads. The wounds of war were to precipitate Tom’s demise aged 51 in 1929. Alice, with the help of her elder son maintained the family business and home and latterly employed East Cowes fireman Archibald Mant as shop manager. A stalwart patriot the 63-year-old widow hadn’t hesitated to volunteer for the WVS when the call came in the late 1930’s.

As she passed the steaming cups to Colin and Bert it was disbelief with which the screech of the siren was met. It can’t be us this time. Not again tonight. Regardless, the pair of firemen settled down near to the van to enjoy their fare. Nothing appeared in the sky, nothing could be heard but the rhythmic thumping of fire pumps across the district.

03:40 – from ARP Officer Sidney Burchell, Northwood House, to County ARP headquarters, Hazards House; Houses down in Baring Road, Arctic Road, Bernard Road, Mill Hill, Tennyson Road, Milton Road, Pallance Road and Gurnard. Rescue parties still digging.

Column Officer Scott had despatched all his available NFS resources, but many part-time firemen, those that were off duty, had remained at home and undisturbed in their sleep in other districts of the Island. The siren only sounded in the affected district, so if the firemen in the wholly unaffected districts such as 2 (Ryde), 4 (Sandown-Shanklin) and 6 (West Wight) had managed to sleep through the drone of the bombers, there was no reason why they’d have done anything but remain blissfully unaware.

One of those was Leading Fireman Healey, who, by methods unknown was alerted around 04:00; I was off duty so missed the first of the raids. When I heard where it was, I got on my bike and made my way to the fire station. As I proceeded up Lake Hill, the enemy planes were overhead, making their way to Cowes for the second raid. On reporting, I was sent to collect my crew, placed in a van, and taken to Newport Fire Station. On arrival there, I was detailed to board a pump and proceed to the East Cowes rendezvous point at the Town Hall.

Long before Healey’s two-stage journey and arrival at East Cowes, the bombers were over the Medina.

Colin Weeks and Bert Dewey heard nothing, neither did Alice Hann save for the hissing of the urn she kept piping hot for the countless cups of tea she anticipated serving.

Above them the first stick of bombs of the second wave were whistling earthwards.

04:15 5 May 1942

One of the first struck the adjacent Groves and Guttridge yard and blasted the place apart. The shock wave lifted the WVS van off the ground and dumped it, and Alice, on the roof of the Castle Inn at the bottom of Alfred Street. Everything in the vicinity was tossed like so many leaves in a gust and when they came to rest Alice and the two Ryde firemen were dead.

Commander Francki immediately ordered the relighting of the smoke candles as his gunners returned to their positions and recorded the time at which the second raid began. To many it seemed the resumption of the attack was of greater intensity even than before. Barbara Wright, then 12-years-old, recalled; There were planes roaring over every minute. We heard the bombs scream down, flashes and the explosions. The blasts were terrific.

Edwin White and those who accompanied him in Cowes scuttled to find another shelter; They soon came over again, this time a better target because of the light of the fires. Our aircraft were now in full flight overhead, signals and flares showed which were which, booms and biffs signified collisions, explosions under enemy planes were evidence of good gunfire. Many were seen hurtling earthwards done for. All were in praise of the way the French and Polish navies put up a barrage of AA tracer bullets and shells so accurately.

The terrifying thought was ‘how many of my friends have been killed, or even more terrible – injured for life’. Similar screams followed by heavy thuds told of near misses.

Twyford Villa, Minerva Road, took a direct hit. Moments earlier 17-year-old Ken Galton had left the house to resume his duties as an ARP warden. In his wake lay the bodies of his parents Robert Frank and Florence Elizabeth, in addition to that of his 10-year-old sister Maureen Jean.

Nearby ARP Rescue Squad leader Arthur Cross, whose courage had already been noted during the first raid, refused to give up an attempted rescue despite the concentration of aerial bombardment; Cross and his party showed outstanding courage and ability at Minerva Road, where they were endeavouring to rescue persons from a demolished house. They carried on with their work although bombs to the number of about 8 fell within 50-75 yards of them. The blast was so great that the Rescue Lorry received damage and nearly overturned.

Fireman William John Vallender described the desperation of the services responding to the second raid; The second raid started as before. The few flares wouldn’t have been necessary as the fires would have easily guided the enemy aircraft. This attack seemed more concentrated, and services practically collapsed. I was sent to get a report at the east side of the river. The Fire Service had lost a complete crew and a report I took back to headquarters included the words “We need help, we have dead and dying men” Not pleasant for a very young 18-year-old to take in. This second raid carried on with all the violence of other air raids.

Column Officer Scott had nothing left to deploy. Little comfort was felt on receipt of the news from Area HQ that at last reinforcing columns had been mobilised to Solent crossing points, but it would take time and likely be conducted under fire. His crews on the Cowes-East Cowes fireground worked above and beyond all expectations, the challenge for front-line commanders was how to prioritise one incident from another. So stretched they were that company NFS men, such as those of SARO, redeployed off their respective sites. William Bolt and a party of SARO firemen attended Osborne House where an incendiary had started a fire in the roof of Victoria’s Hall. The determined crew possessing minimal equipment entered the blaze during its incipient stage and were able to save the building at the seat of the fire.

Philip Kendrick, Pamela Warsap, and her sister, who’d been picking their way across town, ducking into ad-hoc shelters, eventually reached Ward Avenue, the home of the Dinnis family, where they’d expected to be safer. Writing years later to the Dinnis family, Pamela recalled; We got there just as the second bombing started. No one was at your home, but the house was unlocked. The three of us sat under the dining room table and listened to the bombs fall so close.

Northwood Camp was under the command of Captain Basil George Watson-Bowyer of 393^rd Anti-Aircraft Company, 48^th (Hampshire) Searchlight Regiment, Royal Artillery. I was duty officer at the camp which is situated about half-way between Cowes and Newport, that is, about 2 ½ miles from Cowes. It was apparent that Cowes was under heavy enemy air attack, but we were in some doubt as to the exact position there.

A Police Despatch Rider called at the camp and was shown into the Operations Room. The Brigade Commander, Brigadier Willis-Fleming was also in the room at the time. The Police Despatch Rider was P.C. Stanley Humphrey who’d proved indefatigable in his efforts both at firefighting during the first raid and endless message running beneath bombs and through debris.

The Despatch Rider, whom I afterwards knew to be P.C. Humphrey, arrived in a rather exhausted and bedraggled condition, and we considered his condition warranted a stimulant, which he was given. He then began to explain the situation generally as far as his experiences were concerned, but his main object was to get through to Police Headquarters at Newport, to ask them to send all possible assistance. This we were able to do immediately, through the 214 Inf. Brigade Headquarters at Newport. In conclusion I wish to state that I consider the risk and extreme danger which this Officer had gone through in reaching Northwood Camp under extremely heavy and continual bombing and A.A. fire is worthy of the highest praise, and the information he brought was very valuable.

P.C. Humphrey’s work was far from complete. He remounted his motorcycle and headed back towards Cowes to let his Inspector know that the message was on its way to the Chief Constable.

Retired plumber Edward George Rowland Jones of Millbrook, Newport Road, Northwood, wrote; During the second of the two heavy air raids on Cowes… as far as I can recollect… our particular area was being subjected to a very heavy attack by bombing and the shell splinters from the A.A. barrage were falling in all directions. I was sitting indoors with my wife, when I heard a loud crash outside on the road, something different to the general noises of the time, and, on going outside, I found a Police Officer, whom I now know to be P.C. Humphrey, picking himself up off the road, and disentangling some telephone wires from around his neck and arms. I examined his neck and saw that it was badly “wealed”, and he must have had a narrow escape from strangulation. The motorcycle which he had apparently been riding was lying on the road badly smashed and unrideable. The situation was so bad at that particular time that there was no one else about at all, although there were several houses in the vicinity, and I considered at the time that his bravery in riding through it, and his general calmness under very trying conditions were worthy of the highest praise.

Humphrey ensured the retired plumber and his wife that they were as safe as they could be by remaining indoors beneath the staircase before abandoning his wrecked machine and continuing on foot. Of his eventual return Inspector G. Dobson recounted; During the second attack that night he became entangled in broken telephone wires, one of which wrapped several times round his neck and arms, and had he not the presence of mind to throw himself off his machine, which became unrideable, he might have sustained serious injury, and as it was his neck was well wealed by the wires.

He took advantage of any passing transport to return to Cowes Police Station, where he continued on duty although badly shaken, and was ready to proceed on other Police motorcycle on any task I allotted to him, and I do consider that the general courage of this man was outstanding. He was on duty from the start of the raid until 6 p.m. on Wednesday evening, when he reluctantly took my order to sign off duty until 6 a.m. on Thursday. Generally, I consider this Officer’s conduct, energy, and devotion to duty to be of the highest order, which set a good example to other members of the Section.

Sandown’s Leading Fireman Healey recalled the journey he made with his crew to East Cowes, Travelling towards Whippingham, as the second raid was still in progress, we could see the fires raging everywhere, and heard the bomb blasts. Having passed the main gate to Osborne House, we turned into York Avenue and were confronted by a large bomb crater with a Southern Vectis bus caught in it. We cautiously made our way round the crater, arrived at the rendezvous point, and were ordered on to a blazing boatyard. I had set the crew to work there when a policeman came up and informed me that we were standing on top of an unexploded bomb. Luckily for us, as we evacuated the site safely and went to work elsewhere in the town – that bomb exploded two hours later. Incendiary bombs were falling about two feet apart; it looked just like candles everywhere.

Commander Francki began redistributing his non-essential sailors to fight fires on land. Meanwhile Healey and his firemen were ordered to stop pumping and assist with a mass rescue attempt; We were next ordered to Prospect Road to assist with a rescue attempt. Two air raid shelters had been blown together and were partly in a bomb crater. Sadly, there were no survivors – just 17 corpses. One bomb fell in the cemetery, and there were coffins everywhere. What a tragic mess. While working not far from us, the Shanklin crew lost their pump operator, who was killed when a bomb hit the pump. As I surveyed the area we were in, I think every house in the road was alight.

Healey’s recollection is marked by ambiguity that may be understandable given the situation. No evidence has been unearthed of a direct strike and mass killings in Prospect Road, Cowes, but his reference to the coffins matches the details of the occurrence at Northwood Cemetery which the Sandown men may have passed if traversing Newport Road after redeployment from East Cowes thanks to the stalwart operators of the floating bridge. Healey’s description of the shelter strike and many deaths does match the events of Kings Road, East Cowes. Additionally, there is no evidence of a Shanklin fireman killed in the manner or at the time described by Healey.

Whether or not the passing of the years clouded Leading Fireman Healey’s details, an account of what did happen in Kings Road provides one of the most poignant recollections of the raid. Written by Maisie Frampton (nee Hodge) who was 10 years old when she experienced the events described; I lived at No.2 Wellington Terrace, Kings Road, where Phoenix Flats now stands, and two shelters were built in our garden for the protection of the inhabitants of the six terraced houses. I was ten years old and living with my mother and father; also, we had a young friend Ernie Glass living with us as he was working at J.S. White’s. In No. 1 lived a delightful elderly couple the ‘Broadwaters’ known affectionately to me as granny and gramps. On the other side lived Mr and Mrs Sumner and their daughter Muriel. Then came the ‘Deacons’ with one young daughter Jean, a few years younger than me, and in No.5 were the ‘Kersey’s’; their son Raymond was a playmate of mine.

During the first raid, after first sheltering beneath the stairs, Maisie had been swept up in her fathers’ arms and carried at speed to one of the shelters. They were soon joined by their neighbours plus the ‘Makers’ who ran the off licence at 52 Yarborough Road plus Mrs Maker’s sister and young daughter.

Having survived the first raid, which Maisie described as feeling like several hours; it was a tremendous relief when the bombers appeared to have departed… however the respite was short-lived as the bombers returned… and the nightmare started all over again. Suddenly we were aware of yet another screaming bomb, but this sounded different – the noise was absolutely deafening as it appeared to get closer and then for a split second ‘dead silence’. Everyone sensed the impending danger and this time I shall always remember.

Somehow, we knew this one was for us. My father leaned across and took my hand and my mother leant across me covering me with her arms. I know nothing from that moment until much later the following day when I drifted in and out of consciousness in the Frank James Hospital. Our shelters had received a direct hit by a massive bomb which I believe was an armour-piercing bomb meant for the ORP Blyskawica. Obviously, the timing was a split-second adrift and she was saved. The severity of this explosion was so great that I believe it was the blast that was the cause of death of many of the occupants of the shelters – I know this was so with my father.

I have always understood there were 23 people in the two shelters and there were only three survivors – my mother Eva Hodge, my cousin Joan Russell and myself. My mother was conscious for some of the time and apparently saw me upside down with my face covered in the mud and clay from the bottom of the crater and she was able to clear this sufficiently to prevent me suffocating.

Joan Russell gained consciousness while still amongst the rubble and recalled seeing the starry sky before drifting off again. She was recovered by the ARP and taken to Frank James Hospital with her left ankle all but severed. It was in hospital that she learned her father had died in the rubble; her mother was to pass away shortly after while waiting on a stretcher in the hospital corridor.

Joan had recently become engaged to Jack Riddell. Jack went looking for Joan at her rented home in Yarborough Road and found the house intact but vacant. The gaping hole in the ground gave evidence to the utter destruction of the adjacent shelter and a member of the ARP poorly advised Jack that all those within had been killed. Undeterred Jack pursued the matter and through conversations with others learned that there were some survivors at the hospital. He proceeded to the Frank James and despite inaccuracies in the names transcribed on a notice at the gates, he located Joan who was subject to plans for pinning her ankle back together. A happy ending to their story is that Joan was sent to Oxfordshire to recuperate with her grandparents but soon returned to the Island. Jack and Joan married at St James’s Church in October 1942. Among their grandsons is one who later served as a widely respected officer in Hampshire and Isle of Wight Fire and Rescue Service.

The Rescue Squads worked furiously in the hope of recovering survivors. The visibly unmarked body of William Ernest Glass was pulled from the debris. He was taken to an ambulance staffed by ARP first-aider Molly Gustar who identified the 27-year-old Home Guardsman who originated from Swindon; I had been dancing with him the Saturday before, but that Tuesday night I had to take his body to the mortuary.

An explosion threw James Copland into the air from his position cowering on the floor of a nearby chapel; It was so loud. The shock came up through the floor and I was bounced high in the air, to the point where I could see clearly through the high chapel windows.

The family of three-month-old Fred Norris owed the appeal of the family dog for avoiding a worse fate; We were living in a house where the Phoenix Flats are now. There was a communal air raid shelter there, but Mum wouldn’t go in there because our pet dog wasn’t allowed in the shelter. So, Dad made his own shelter under the stairs with, I believe, old mattresses. The shelter unfortunately took a direct hit and everybody in the shelter was killed. Our house was destroyed but we all survived. Many hours later we were dug out by Mum’s father and brother, James, and Joe Tutton, both members of East Cowes fire brigade (who resided at 35 St David’s Road). None of them talked about that night. I only found out the details much later from one of Jim’s other sons.

Five-year-old Pat Tankard lived at Beaconsfield Terrace, Victoria Road. On the night of the attack, her father, who had been rescued at Dunkirk, was serving away with the Grenadier Guards so she and her mother were staying at her parent’s house in East Cowes. Having spent the earlier part of the evening pleasantly in the company of her grandfather, she had been woken by the sirens and bomb strikes and carried downstairs by her mother. Her grandfather was gone, fulfilling his duties as an ARP Warden and she recalled only the noise of shrapnel tinkling down on the conservatory and so much soot billowing from the chimney that; we were virtually invisible from each other.

During the lull Pat, her mother and grandmother ran to the nearest shelter. A bomb fell on the row of terraced houses including my grandmother’s and made a huge crater. Rubble from this fell on the shelter causing it to tip backwards on to the road. My mother fell backwards and split her head open down the back. My grandmother sustained a compound fracture of the leg – I got away with a small scratch on my knee.

It was then pitch black in the shelter with people moaning and crying in pain from their injuries. I subsequently found out that many people died in that shelter. I have no idea of the timespan, but, at some point, we were dug out. I remember a tunnel through the rubble and a mountain of debris on top of what remained of the shelter. Outside everywhere was on fire, ablaze with orange flames, including my grandmother’s house. My mother was taken off on a stretcher to hospital. My grandmother and I walked to another shelter at the end of the road, my grandmother walking on her compound fracture, possibly unaware of it until brought to her attention by someone in the shelter who noticed blood on her leg. After this her leg was permanently bowed.

Observing events from her home at 11 Medina View, Mrs D. Hayles recalled; There were two Polish gun boats in J.S. Whites for repairs and it was a good job they were there as they were firing their guns at the planes and everybody says that they saved Cowes that night.  Harry (my husband) was on fire watch at the pontoon that night. 

Among the blazing guns firing skywards at the Luftwaffe bombers were those under the command of Lieut. Malcolm Buist, Commanding Officer French Chausseurs, HMS Marshall Soult, at Marvin’s Yard, who received less recognition for their efforts than the Polish.

Buist recorded that Chaussures 5, 8, 11, 13 and 43 expended 436 rounds of 2pdr. ammunition, 393 rounds of 37.7mm, 7235 rounds of 8mm Hotchkiss and 8334 rounds of .303 through the Lewis Guns. Additionally, Free French Ship Diligente fired 1000 rounds of 75mm, and 1500 rounds of 8mm Hotchkiss ammunition. From land the base defences added a further number of Hotchkiss and .303’s to the defensive mix.

Buist recorded in his formal report; Several showers of incendiary bombs fell throughout the yard, which were attacked with sandbags, metal lids, and stirrup pumps. A very large number were extinguished but the fact that the upper stores in Messrs. Marvin’s yard were full of wooden and canvas material, made the job of the firefighters extremely difficult; added to which, some of the Stores were locked.

As soon as it was seen that the fires were getting out of hand, efforts were made to man the Chaussure Base Trailer Pump and also Messrs. Marvin’s Trailer Pump, but to do this, it was necessary to withdraw men from the Fire Fighting Parties, with the result that the fires increased their hold. Owing to low water, it was necessary to take the trailer pumps to the ends of the piers, where there is a considerable drop, and efforts to obtain suction were unsuccessful.

Messrs. Marvin’s party then abandoned their pump and again attempted to extinguish fires by hand, but these were raging furiously. This was a pity, as had they taken the pump to the 10,000-gallon tank, close to the Base Offices, they could have made good use of it. A short while later a party of Seamen from Chaussure 13, under my direction, attempted to rush the latter pump down the roadway, to the 10,000-gallon tank, but owing to the intense heat given off from the buildings, it became impossible for the party to proceed. Observing that the clothes on several of the men were beginning to smoulder and feeling the skin on my own exposed portions start to blister, I ordered these men to abandon the pump and get clear, which we did without injury.

A few minutes after this, Lieutenant J.A. Wingate, R.N., the Commanding Officer of HM Chaussure 5, asked my permission to manoeuvre his ship alongside the Lady Vagrant, in order to run a hose along her deck, and from this conduct a frontal attack on the fire in No.3 Block. As the tide was on the flood, and this did not seriously endanger the Chaussure, I instructed him to proceed. The manoeuvre was carried out in a most seamanlike manner without damage to the ship. After passing out the hose Chaussure 5 was able to haul herself clear of Lady Vagrant and secure to one of the mooring buoys, where she then resumed her highly effective 2pdr. barrage.

The Cowes Corporation Fire Float (in fact this was an NFS fire-float the Fireflash), then came to our assistance and ran hoses along the lengths of the piers, in an attempt to extinguish the fire from the Southern End.

This pump worked excellently and had they arrived on the scene earlier on in the raid, I have no doubt that the fires at the Southern End of the yard could have been dealt with. As it was, the roofs of the buildings had already fallen in, and not much could be done. I then instructed the Float to proceed down to the Northern End of the yard and attempt to get alongside the Pier off Bianca Slip. This was not possible as there was still insufficient water to get the Float alongside. However, after a certain amount of difficulty we manoeuvred her alongside the Yacht Lady Vagrant and ran out two lines of hose.

As soon as her pumps were in action, I landed to find that the Cowes Fire Brigade (Cowes NFS Company) had now arrived by road and were getting their trailer pumps in action, working from the 10,000-gallon tank. The number of pumps taking suction from this tank was of course limited, and it was necessary to run a delivery pipe from the Cowes Water Main to sustain sufficient level to enable two pumps to keep in constant action.

There were four other Trailer Pumps on the scene, three of which were manned by Cowes Fire Brigade, and the other by a party of Polish sailors from the Blyskawica.

As the heat in the front of the buildings had now somewhat abated, we were able to assist the Fire Brigade in running their Pumps down to the shore, between No. 3a, and 4a, Blocks, where the tide had now risen sufficiently for them to obtain suction, and also shift the Base Trailer Pump from the Piers to this position. The problem of where to put the other pump was solved by the Polish Fire Party, who carried it boldly down a long and very steep flight of steps to the piers abreast Bianca Slip, where it soon obtained suction and was a deciding factor in preventing the fire from spreading to No.1 Block.

As the second raid developed, Buist, who was Mentioned in Dispatches for his action, added; No further damage was done to the yard, but several private yachts were sunk by blast and splinters. A bomb exploding in the River Medina caused casualties on board Chaussures 8 and 12.

During the second attack it was necessary to cease firefighting as the Chaussure Base appeared to be a special target. However, the effective barrage put up by the guns mentioned caused premature and inaccurate bombing.

At Medina View, Mrs Hayles was joined in a shelter by her brother Frank Gustar, his wife May and their children Sally, Alan, Hazel, and Stella in addition to her parents, her other brother Bill, and her sister Molly with her baby son Michael; a blast bomb went off near our houses.  May had a heart condition and was so frightened during this raid that she had a heart attack and died.  Sally and Alan were also killed with the force of the blast and Frank who was stood near the doorway to protect his family was cut all over.  He was taken up to Parkhurst Army Hospital but did not live long.  All they gave us back was his purse with about four shillings and sixpence in it and his pocket watch as they had to cut his clothes out of his body.

Stella was taken to a house in Newport Road and when I found her there, she was asleep, so I left her there until morning.  Hazel was taken down to Cross Street School and it was about 9 o'clock in the morning before I found her and picked her up.  She was very upset because she could not go anywhere.  She was covered with blood all over her clothes where she was near her father.

Whereas motorcycle messengers had been able, with extreme difficulty and danger, to negotiate the roads and pass essential information between affected areas, Hazards House and The Grange, at 04:54 a messenger returned to Newport with the information; Newport-Cowes road blocked by damage and debris.

By this time ARP Officer Brigadier Nepean and NFS Column Officer Hector Scott were impotent. All firefighting and rescue resources were deployed and largely out of contact; the conduct of the operation was now in the hands of the operational commanders at the sharp end, the District Chief Wardens of the ARP and Company Officers of the NFS.

05:20 – Commander Francki recorded in the ships log that the second raid had, finally, ceased.

But there was a long pause before anyone had the confidence to issue the all-clear at 06:15.

Shortly before that, via one of the few stretches of road that remained open, ARP Control at Hazards House were joined by a motorcycle messenger who carried the following: Many cottages destroyed at Racecourse end of Wootton – many trapped.

A most tragic result of the raid occurred when two cottages about a mile from the town, at the junction of main roads, received a direct hit; reported the County Press on the following Saturday. The two residences were Ryde Road Cottages, known more commonly to locals as Point Cottages due to their position on land within the acute triangle formed by the Racecourse and Whippingham Road (today’s Racecourse roundabout).

With dawn creeping over the horizon the resolute ARP rescuers, assisted by a handful of soldiers, had spent six hours picking through the wreckage of the cottages. It was they who Jack Fountaine had caught in the light of his shrouded headlamps when driving past in his pump-towing coal lorry earlier in the night. Finally, the rescuers were able to recover a survivor, Evelyn Abrook of No.2, whose husband William was away in service with the Royal Engineers. But with the improving light dawned the horror of what they discovered next door.

No.1 was the Chiverton family home to where Wallace, a dairyman, and his wife Charlotte had moved with their children from Brambles Cottage, Colwell, occupying the house vacated by the Cotton family who moved to Newbridge a short while before. Though the couple survived the destruction of their home their loss was incomprehensible. Six of their eight children were found dead under the rubble: 7-year-old Mary Elizabeth, 4-year-old Vera Florence, 3-year-old John Wallace, 2-year old twins Paul Richard and Patrick George, and 5-week-old Jean. The lifeless remains of William and Evelyn’s 5-year-old daughter Joan Susan and Evelyn’s 65-year-old father Frank Hendy were also recovered from the tangled wreckage. Seven children, seven years or under, killed by the random bombing of two cottages that had stood inoffensive and isolated by the darkened road.

The time 06:33 – sunrise.

Amid the madness of fires, collapses, unexploded bombs, thumping pumps, craters, snaking hoses, steam, smoke, and dust, around which grimy homeless survivors wandered like automatons, the redoubtable ladies of the WVS threaded their brand of unfettered care and comfort wherever they were able. Extracted from the report of their formidable local leader Sylvia Needham is the following; When daylight came WVS members were told to prepare meals for the whole town as the British Restaurant had a time bomb outside the building, and a large soldier’s canteen was damaged. A great portion of the town was found to be in ruins.

The Emergency Cooking Depot was immediately opened, and a message sent to WVS headquarters to send more food and containers. Hot milk was made available for children, tea and blankets taken to old people in Alms houses, and an urn of tea and sandwiches sent to squads of men working at vital points.

In East Cowes one of the Rest Centres was badly damaged by blast during the second raid, which necessitated evacuation to another Rest Centre. Owing to unexploded bombs contact could not be made with outlying districts. The West Cowes Postal authorities asked the Centre Organiser to take the mail and inform Newport authorities of the local conditions. WVS were greatly handicapped as so many of the helper’s own homes were so badly damaged by the raid. This put a great strain on the Rest Centre staff who had to cope with such a large number of homeless people (in one road alone 1,000 families were rendered homeless).

The WVS office soon became the Information Bureau and had to deal with telegrams enquiring for relatives sent to the Police, ARP and Town Clerk, and another room was loaned for use as the Administration Centre, additional help being obtained from Gosport and our Island centres. Emergency meals were served continuously to Rest Centres and Civil Defence personnel, and WVS helped to staff the British Restaurant.

Help was also given by the County Office who helped with feeding and transport and arranged for Cooking Depots at Newport, Binstead, Ryde and Brading to be opened up to serve meals, and a mobile tea van was also sent to East and West Cowes.

The East Cowes Clothing Depot received a direct hit and clothing had to be sent from the County Clothing Store in Newport. Urns had to be telephoned for from London as we had insufficient for meals for 100. An emergency canteen was set up at Ryde Pier Head to look after casualties being evacuated to the mainland. Hot meals were also supplied to Police on duty in East and West Cowes. Newport and Ryde opened Rest Centres and received evacuees and helped with feeding at East and West Cowes. Shanklin sent staffs to help at Cowes Rest Centres and also sent a C.A.B. Officer. Ventnor also sent C.A.B. staff and helped with billeting of evacuees.

As soon as it was daylight Fred went to see what he could do at Burnt Wood; wrote Alan Dinnis working from his father’s orally recorded memoire; He salvaged all that was readily moveable, including Doris’s store of vegetables and tinned meat. He took them back to Mrs Knight’s, only to learn that during the second raid a fire had been started by an incendiary bomb on the roof of his mother’s shop. Back he went into Cowes where he found that the fire had been put out by a kindly neighbour, but because of an unexploded bomb in nearby Beckford Road his mother and sister had been evacuated and he didn’t know where they were. After a long hunt he found them in Cowes Congregational Church in Union Road.

For Eric Field his residency in Cowes was interrupted; A gas main was hit in Arctic Road and the row of houses just past where we lived. Our house lost tiles and ceilings when we examined it next morning and had to be evacuated. The family moved out to Yarmouth area.

Iris Cooper, later to become the wife of fireman William John Vallender, recalled; My future husband’s brothers house took a direct hit. George was badly injured and pinned in the wreckage of their house. His wife Ivy was found some time later wandering in a daze. When the rescuers reached the house, they took three hours to get him out. He spent long months in hospital. Many of our friends and people we knew died that long night.

At 06:45 received at County ARP headquarters; Many fires still burning.

There was no stand down for the men of the NFS, neither for the staff at The Grange. Column Officer Scott was concerned for the welfare of his men, particularly the crew of Ryde who lost two of their number, the bodies of whom had been transported along with those of the civilian dead to a temporary mortuary at Northwood.

The family of Cecil Wright gathered essentials prior to evacuating to relatives at Marks Corner. The 16-year-old recalled; I must confess I felt a tremendous sense of elation probably as a reaction to the ordeal of the previous hours, and I spent some time walking around the neighbourhood looking at the damage. On returning to Alfred Street I saw an open backed lorry being driven slowly up the hill, bumping and swaying its way over the rubble. As it passed me, I saw that a tarpaulin in the back was covering some unidentifiable mounds. The shaking motion caused these to move slightly and sticking out from the back and shaking in unison with the movement of the lorry were human feet, and I realised that these belonged to some of the dead victims of the raid.

May 5^th turned out to be a beautiful spring day and shortly after 8 o’clock workers from other towns arrived and many of these spent time sightseeing. One group was congregated outside the Castle Inn and I warned them that it contained an unexploded bomb. This was greeted with derision and I was told that if this were so there would be a warning notice indicating the danger. A few days later the bomb exploded and blew the pub apart. I have often wondered what went through the minds of that group of workers at this turn of events.

The family gathered up as many possessions and as much clothes as we could carry and set off for Marks Corner. After crossing the Medina on the floating bridge, we struggled our way to the outskirts of West Cowes. We were turned back many times by members of the Civil Defence because of unexploded bombs. This considerably extended our journey, but eventually our luck changed when a workmate who was a Civil Defence worker pulled up in a car and took us to our destination.

His sister Marjorie recalled; After pinning a note to the door, reporting that we were all okay and to where we were heading, we made our way. I can remember my surprise at the height of the pile of bricks in our street and how weary we were.

It took us a long time to reach my aunts at Marks Corner, and during our trek I saw the body of a young man being collected from the road at Northwood. I believe that he was a Civil Defence worker from Ryde by the name of Weeks. I realise looking back, that was the moment when I grew up. I was 12 years old.

Grimly determined Albert turned about and headed for the floating bridge and made the long journey on foot to Northwood that he hoped would prove futile. Alas it wasn’t to be. Marjorie Wright’s eyewitness account proved accurate. Albert arrived to be shown an array of sheeted bodies. Unwillingly but deeply devoted to the task he peeled back the barest possible corner of each sheet to take a look. Having been a boy seaman of the Royal Navy who endured the Battle of Jutland, Albert wasn’t inexperienced to the sight of the dead, but as a mature man with a son not much younger than the firemen he sought, this task was especially distressing.

With both relief and anguish, he identified Colin Weeks and Bert Dewey and asked those in charge what was to be done with the bodies. Plans were already afoot to intern them in a mass grave at Northwood Cemetery. No. Not for these two, insisted Sub Officer Collis. Albert arranged for the firemen to be removed from the macabre gathering and await fire service repatriation to their homes and families before trudging all the way back to East Cowes to deliver the grim news to Company Officer Heller.

As Sub Officer Collis waited for the floating bridge, the doctor and first aid party from the Blyskawica picked their way through the ravaged town heading back to the ship after five desperate hours giving aid to the casualties that filled the corridors at Northwood House. They reported back to Commander Francki at 08:20.

Mrs Moody prepared to take the register at Whippingham School that morning. It didn’t take long. Just five wide-eyed little faces stared back at her from behind their desks.

The morning passed slowly by. The fires the firemen could safely reach were suppressed; others too close to unexploded bombs continued to gorge themselves on the flammable materials until there was nothing left to burn. As reports of receding flames reached The Grange, finally, hours after the departure of the final Luftwaffe aircraft from the sky, NFS reinforcements began to arrive on the Island. If nothing else this enabled Column Officer Scott to begin planning a phased stand down and relief of the shattered, soiled, and shocked men and women of Fire Force 14d.

Ryde Fireman Harold Brading’s wife Christabel wrote in her diary; Felt very miserable when Harold did not come home at his usual time. He came home at nine after a strenuous night. He had a wash and then went to bed until dinner time.

Among the departing columns was a combination of sections from Newport and Shanklin, including Fireman Edgar Ernest Edwards of 11 Town Lane, Newport. The 39-year-old married carpenter was one of the pre-war regulars of the Borough brigade who’d been firefighting for many years. As an accomplished driver he oversaw a Ford mobile dam unit (MDU) accompanied by Fireman White in addition to two messengers whose motorcycles had been destroyed, including 16-year-old Frank Raymond Evatt of 16 Royal Exchange. The men had made up the appliance, although hardly in ship-shape fashion, acting on orders from The Grange to return to South Street.

At 10:20 Edwards’ Ford was at the lead of a three-vehicle column. Behind him was another mobile dam unit driven by Fireman Alfred James King of 41 Lake Green Road, Lake. Unlike Edwards, King’s machine was rammed with all manner of equipment destined for Shanklin with a scattering of men clinging on wherever possible including 36-year-old Leading Fireman John Howard Blundell of 68 Newport Road, Lake, who was stood to the offside of the driver on the running board. In addition to the payload, King’s MDU hauled a heavy trailer-pump hitched to the rear.

At the junction of Park and Place Roads two soldiers were directing traffic towards Gurnard because the left turn was blocked by two UXBs. From forty yards away Pte. Gerald Turner of the Royal Army Ordnance Corps gave Edwards the signal to slow down and stop, suggesting he wished to speak. Edwards threw an arm out of the window and signalled to the vehicles behind that he was slowing. The Ford stopped and one of the soldiers approached the nearside and began talking to Fireman White.

As they conversed, all aboard the Ford felt a firm impact from behind, Messenger Evatt was thrown forwards into the bulkhead but was uninjured. The others rapidly debussed followed by the soldiers.

To the rear of the Ford the cabin of the following MDU was hard up against the rear and distorted by the impact; trapped between the two vehicles was the stricken form of Leading Fireman Blundell. As driver King gently eased the twisted wreckage rearwards, Pte’s Turner and Tytus Uszynski assisted the firemen to lift their tangled colleague from the space. Leading Fireman Blundell was immediately despatched to Osborne Convalescent Home with severe pelvic injuries. He died there the next day.

At the subsequent inquest the jury found it inescapable that the vehicles were travelling too close together, that King’s unit was so grossly overloaded to cause braking inefficiency, and that the passenger arrangements were unsatisfactory. In the wake of the shattering night experienced by all involved its little wonder that this was the only recorded accident to occur during the stand down. No blame was apportioned. A verdict of accidental death was recorded.

At 11:30 on the other side of the river near the floating bridge, Leading Fireman Alf Rees received the instruction to make-up the gear and check in with his crew at Newport Fire Station. Wearily he, with Firemen Fountaine, Hill and Bartrum rolled their surviving lengths of hose as best they could over debris strewn streets, abandoning some lengths that were beyond repair. They hitched the Y9 trailer-pump to Jack Fountaine’s coal lorry and headed off. Alf Rees noted in his memoire that they never stopped pumping for a single minute from the time they arrived, 01:00, until their instruction to withdraw at 11:30. At South Street, in accord with express instructions from The Grange, Rees submitted a brief of their actions in East Cowes, before refuelling and departing for Ryde at 13:28.

Sub Officer Collis wasn’t to return to Ryde until later. Company Officer Heller insisted on remaining at the fireground until the last man from Ryde had departed, so he tasked Collis with another unenviable duty, one that could not be forsaken and had to be done appropriately.

Collis’s son John recalled that at 14:00 that afternoon; Dad came home in a little pick-up with a canvas roof, it was unusual for him to have transport. He was rather dishevelled and very quiet and had a wash, brushed his fire tunic and cap, and then said to my Mum “Come on gal, we have a job to do. We’ve lost Bert Dewey and Colin Weeks and I have to let their relatives know.”

Albert and Rhoda Collis drove to St Johns Road to break the news to Herbert Dewey’s mother Lydia at the Oakdene guest house she’d operated with her son since his father’s death. Lydia was bereft, she’d lived her life through her son since her husband’s premature demise. Torn but resolute, the Sub Officer and his wife headed up through the town and out to Swanmore Road. There, at the family run Post Office at the corner of Swanmore and Osborne Roads, they suffered further heartbreak in telling the Mayor of Ryde, Henry Weeks, and his wife Elsie, that their 19-year-old younger son Colin had died in action.

Albert and Rhoda, in a state of numbness, left the Weeks with their sorrow and compelled by the bonds of service went to Edward Street station where Samuel Phillips, the station cook, had sandwiches and hot tea ready in anticipation of the steady stream of bedraggled firefighters. Alf Rees and the crew of Y9 were already slouched in chairs. As others lurched back into the station and slumped around the table, Sub Officer Collis was able to confirm that the rumour they’d heard in Newport concerning their two colleagues was correct. Upset by the news some began to question why their Company Officer Max Heller, wasn’t there with them at Edward Street to deliver the news and offer a steadying hand.

Sub Officer Collis interjected “The boss refused to leave until every one of us had left the fireground…” he paused “…. everyone.” His emphasis required no further explanation, all fell silent.

When Max Heller finally returned it was late at night and in the same vehicle that conveyed the bodies of Herbert Dewey and Colin Weeks.

Later that day, and beyond

Writing from his father’s memoire Alan Dinnis added; Later that day Nellie Dinnis too decided that to stay in Cowes was just too dangerous. She made contact with the Mitchell family at Haslemere in Surrey, who had been friends of Nellie’s late husband Samuel and who had said they would be quite happy to look after her family for a few days. The complete Dinnis family – Nellie, together with daughter, son, daughter-in-law, and grandson took a bus for Ryde Pier, caught the ferry for Portsmouth Harbour Station and continued by train to Surrey. As they travelled in the tram along Ryde Pier they passed a contingent of Portsmouth firemen marching ashore from the ferry to help the Islanders in their plight, an indication of how serious the air raid had been.

Fred stayed in Haslemere for only one night. He wanted to get back to Cowes to look after his business and make sure that Burnt Wood was safe and secure. Back home during the following evening Fred made a close inspection of his house. It was clearly uninhabitable, and he was not sure what to do for the best. To keep its contents dry appeared to be the first priority, so he climbed through the hatchway into the roof space and spent the evening posting any intact roof tiles he could find back through the rafters like posting letters in a letterbox. Fortunately, the builders hadn’t nailed the tiles and the roof had no felt lining or he would have found the job impossible. In one place a nail had scratched a witness mark to show that the blast had made the entire roof structure jump four inches vertically. The piles of earth from excavating the foundations of Burnt Wood were still in the back garden. These had undoubtedly deflected the blast upwards, causing much damage to the roof and upper storey but saving the rest of the house from greater destruction.

No glass remained in the windows, so later that evening Fred found a length of steel water pipe and laid it on the windowsill in his bedroom to hold down the curtains and give him some privacy. He was tired out, so he shook the fallen plaster from the bed covers and was soon asleep

In the middle of the night, he was awoken by a loud bang. Wearily he looked out of the gaping window, saw a searchlight scanning across the sky and reached the conclusion that there was another raid in progress. He pulled his on his clothes, left the house and tried to find out exactly what was going on. He made his way down Baring Road towards the town. Mrs Woodyear, who lived near the top of Castle Hill, thought that an air raid warning had sounded but wasn’t sure. Fred continued through the ornamental archway and ascended the steps to Northwood Park where he knew there was a hut used by firewatchers. The men in the hut were asleep in their bunks, but one was awake whom he recognised as Mr Newman, a veteran soldier from the First World War.

“Is there a raid on Mr Newman?” Fred asked. “I’ve just heard a terrible explosion.”

“Nothing to worry about,” was the reply. “The bangs are only DA’s going off.”

‘DAs were delayed action bombs. Clearly, they were the merest trifle to the gallant old soldier. Fred trudged home and tried to get some more sleep. In the morning he discovered what had caused the bang. His length of water pipe had fallen off the windowsill.

Mrs Hayles’ memory of the day after the attack focussed on the plight of the surviving children of Frank and May Gustar, killed early in the second raid at Medina View.

The next day my mother and father took Stella and Hazel and my sister Molly with her baby to my other sisters at Ventnor.  I was left behind waiting for unexploded bombs to go off in the cemetery and the fields behind us.  Bill, Harry, and I went to stay at my brother’s house as ours had no roof and all the windows had been broken.  The furniture and possessions that had not been stolen were put into store and the worst thing I had to do was to have the two dogs and two cats put to sleep.

Stella was four years old when her mother, father, brother, and sister were killed, and Hazel was nine years old.  Stella was the one who was affected most by the air raids.  She could always feel her mouth filled up with little stones and had bad nights for months after it was over and sometimes, she could not eat anything for about two weeks.

For two days we could not find out what had happened to Alan and his little sister Sally but on the third afternoon a Vicar from St. Faith's Church came up to my brother’s house where we were stopping and took Bill and Harry up to Northwood House as there were some bodies of unidentified children there.  They advised me not to go but Bill and Harry said they looked just as if they were asleep together.

Mr and Mrs Hayles became Stella and Hazel’s legal guardians and brought them up as their own daughters as they had no children at the time. 6 years later they had a daughter of their own and the three girls were raised as sisters. 

Despite the arrival of reinforcements from the mainland the task wasn’t finished for the Island’s firemen. At two minutes past eleven on the night of the 5 May, Alf Rees, and the crew of Y9 were called to attend flare-ups in East Cowes and remained there until 14:05 the next afternoon. Writing later of Fountaine, Bartrum and Hill, the Leading Fireman declared; My crew worked splendid, and nothing was too much for them to do. In Cowes, Company Officer Brunner had been able, due to the arrival of reinforcements from the mainland, to allow his men the chance to go home and rest. Few of them were able to do so for many of their homes were in ruin and frantic hours were spent locating their displaced families.

Writing his formal report in his subterranean office at Culver three days after the attack, Captain A. Saunders, R.N., Extended Defence Officer (East), closed with; I should like to bring to your notice the conduct of Lieutenant M. Buist, commanding the Chausseur base. From enquiries I have made there is no doubt that this officer showed fine qualities of leadership and devotion to duty. The Chausseur Flotilla acquitted themselves with credit in their first test and this is in a large measure due to Lieutenant Buist’s training and leadership.

The Polish destroyer BLYSKAWICA also did very good work. The effective barrage she put up was instrumental in protecting Messrs. Samuel White’s shipyard (Commander Francki’s report stated that his men fired 2030 40mm anti-aircraft shells and 10,500 13.2mm machine gun rounds).

In recognition of Commander Francki, Saunders submitted in Portsmouth Form 15 – Recommendation for Decoration or Mention in Despatches; For outstanding qualities of initiative and leadership during the enemy air attack on Cowes on the night of 4^th/5^th May 1942. This officer’s action in landing men to burn smoke floats ashore and the intensive barrage which he directed personally were largely instrumental in saving the destroyers building at Messrs. Samuel White’s shipyard in East Cowes. After the raid parties were landed from the BLYSKAWICA and did good service firefighting at the Chausseur Base and in East Cowes.

Writing again of Lieut. Buist on another copy of the same form he added, For outstanding qualities of leadership and endurance. Lieutenant Buist by his example and leadership has succeeded in welding the Chausseur Flotilla into an efficient unit with healthy rivalry between the individual French and British manned ships.

Buist’s own report ended with his appraisal of the attack and his recommendation of those working under him; The success of the attack is due to the fact that it was carried out at low tide and owing to the lack of a balloon barrage at Cowes, the planes were able to descend sufficiently low to be certain of placing their bombs in the target area. The A.A. barrage put up by the Chausseurs, the Blyskawica, and the Military Bofors Guns on both sides of the River was excellent and must have been a serious deterrent to the Raiders. The Fire Fighting efforts rendered by the Free French Sailors was most praiseworthy, particularly as they are not trained in this type of work. The British Base Staff came up to my fullest expectations, though it must be stated that these men are staid Ratings most of whom have had experience in Fire Fighting during the Portsmouth Raids. Unfortunately, the team of stoker Fire Fighters approved in Portsmouth Minute No. 372/1 dated 26^th April, had not then been drafted to the Chausseur Base. The fires were finally extinguished after daylight.

It is submitted that the following deserve particular mention: -

1. Lieutenant R.H.K.P. Boyle, R.N.V.R., who with Matelot Albert Levay, F.N.F.L., manned a hose in No. 4 Block entirely isolated from the remainder of the Fire Parties including the Fire Brigade.
2. Signalman J. Gilliland and Ord. Seaman W.M. France of Chausseur 13, who with Matelot Pierre Cabellic, F.N.F.L., of V.T.B. 12, and Roger Steffler, F.N.F.L., of Chausseur 11, climbed along the roof of No. 10 Block to extinguish a fire which had spread to the Eastern Gable end from No. 1 Block. In spite of the height from the ground and the heat of the flames from No. 1 Block they were able to extinguish the fire with buckets passed up in heaving lines.
3. The Polish Fire Party under the command of a Polish Lieutenant from the Blyskawica, who manhandled their engine with the dash of an inter-port field gun team.

On the morning of 6 May Eric Field returned to take a look at his former family home; On the floor by the door the postman had been and yet all the windows and roof had gone and one of the letters was for me. So I opened and it was my papers calling me up, asking me to go in the services.

When he had attended his military medical and was asked for his preference, Eric had expressed the Navy, to follow in the family tradition, but the call-up papers were for the Army. He was sent to Anglesey to master the art of anti-aircraft gunnery and was subsequently posted to Manchester. In an interview many years later carried out by his granddaughter for a school project, he explained; One evening I was off duty and went into the canteen to have a cup of tea. They didn’t have much – sometimes a biscuit. A girl came in, it was pretty crowded, but I had room on my table, and she came and sat down in her messy, greasy overalls. She had a cup of tea and I looked at her and said, “how dare you come into the canteen with dirty old overalls on?” She looked at me and started to cry and left the table and cleared off. Two weeks later I saw the same girl in her proper uniform all spick and span, hair beautiful, lovely uniform, and that was my Dorothy – your grandmother.

Many commendations were awarded for those who endured in service of home defence throughout the raids. Police Constable Stanley Howard Humphrey received the following letter dated 27 August 1942; I am directed by the Secretary of State to inform you that the Chief Constable of the Isle of Wight drew his attention to your gallant conduct on the night of 4^th/5^th May 1942, when you rendered valuable assistance during a heavy air attack on Cowes by extinguishing incendiary bombs and fires and by acting as Despatch Rider under extremely dangerous conditions.

Mr. Herbert Morrison felt that your courage and devotion to duty were deserving of high praise, and he took steps to bring the matter to the notice of His Majesty the King who was graciously pleased to give orders for the publication of your name as having received an expression of Commendation for your services.

Isle of Wight Member of Parliament Captain Peter Macdonald went further in the case of ARP Officer Sidney Burchell. He submitted a letter to the Interdepartmental Committee for Civil Defence Gallantry Awards that for remaining alert and at his post throughout the attack and beyond, despite being told of his wife’s death and an injury sustained by his three-year-old son, he should receive the George Medal. However, as Burchell hadn’t suffered injury and wasn’t considered to have been in a situation where injury was likely, the authorities downgraded the claim to a Commendation, placing him in the same category as ARP Rescue Squad Leader Arthur Cross, SARO firemen William Leonard Bolt, Sidney Walter Chorley, Henry Wallace Hall and Arthur Arnold Hodges, Ryde NFS Firemen Hugh Weeks, James Charles Goddard and Henry Francis Budden, plus Alfred John Carpenter the Chief Officer of J.S. White’s NFS Works Brigade.

A protracted report in the following Saturday’s County Press included the following: It was by far the worst raid the district has experienced and it is satisfactory to be able to give whole-hearted praise to every branch of the civil defence service. They were faced with an exceedingly heavy task, necessitating a full concentration of all the personnel and equipment available, and untiring efforts amid great danger, but they never faltered and those who had suffered terribly as the result of the bombing were the first to pay tribute to their skill and bravery.

Rescue and first-aid parties and ambulance drivers laboured almost without a pause for refreshment; the firemen in spite of casualties in their ranks, continued to fight the flames with bombs falling around them; and those responsible for the care of the homeless and the transport of wounded to hospital, worked magnificently. In short, the whole of the ARP personnel came out of the ordeal with every credit. The help of the Police, other military units, including the Home Guard, and of the WVS must also be acknowledged.

The National Fire Service, which has not been without its critics during the long period of change and training, proved its worth in no uncertain manner. The whole system of its training and operation was fully justified and the bravery of its personnel well proved. It was a tribute to their efficiency that the huge fires started early in the first raid were almost extinguished before the second attack came, and although the second raid hampered their efforts, and allowed the flames to get another hold, they had conquered all the outbreaks soon after dawn.

It was as severe a test as the Civil Defence Services are likely to have, and they came through it with flying colours.

Sadly, the raid was to claim more victims in the following weeks.

In late June demolition work was being conducted on raid damaged structures at Cornubia Yard. While in the process of removing pipework to allow the pulling down of the twisted remains of structural framework, a sudden unexpected collapse struck 69-year-old James William Baker of St Urians, Sandown Road, Lake. Baker was rapidly despatched to hospital but died within minutes of arriving.

Four days later a tragic case of what would today be termed post-traumatic stress was believed to be the reason why a heavily pregnant 38-year-old woman threw herself from the upstairs window of her home in Clarence Road, East Cowes. At the inquest a District Nurse described how the woman had at times been hysterical and unable to sleep since the raid. She had uttered anxieties about the world she was preparing to deliver her baby into. She and her unborn child died 16 hours after her fall.

Iris Vallender (nee Cooper), whose memories of the attack have contributed to the story above, closed her memoir with; I thought I was finished with my war memories but lying in bed last night unable to sleep my mind was a cauldron of things I had forgotten so have decided to list the things that are going around in the mixing bowl of my memories. Of enemy bombers appearing flying over chimney pot height, ack-ack guns banging away, the Polish ships pom-pom gun bullets rushing by one’s ears, shrapnel falling, sirens going, bombs whistling as they rush towards their targets, people shouting, almost too much for a young mind to take in, least of all to remember fifty odd years later.

I am only too glad to have lived a long and happy life.