Nick J Stone's photostream  

Little gem from my Bro in Canadia.

Me mater is at the far right next to the extraneous train driver.

Tell me more internets, tell me more.

Nams of all the staff, as it indicates.

Hilda, Beryl, Jack and Margaret.
Died 28-4-42

3 months though and 7 and 9.

Norwich Garden of remembrance. Memorial cemetery. Farrow Road, Norwich. Mass Grave.

Formerly of Rosebery Road. See the family picture for details.

Aged 52
Died 28-4-42

Norwich Garden of remembrance. Memorial cemetery. Farrow Road, Norwich.

"The date that sticks in my mind is 28th April 1942 and the time 10.30 a.m. At that moment I was in the Anderson shelter in my garden on St. Martins Road, Norwich (near to Wensum Park). With me in the shelter was my mother, stepsister and my father (Thomas). My father had not been called up to fight because he was aged 52 and too old. He had lost a lung in the first World War.

My job, when the siren went, was to take water in a very strong jar into the shelter. We also had food there.

That particular day, while we were in the shelter, we suddenly heard ‘planes and then bombs dropping like rain. My house collapsed on to the shelter and my father’s head was very, very badly damaged. There was so much blood and he died in the shelter. For two and a half days my stepsister, my mother and me sat in the shelter. We were up to our necks in water because a water main had been hit and as a result everything had become flooded. I was only ten years old at the time and I felt I was going to drown. The air-raid wardens finally dug us out. We then discovered that not only had my Dad died in the raid, but many children in the street had as well. Many of these children had been my friends."

Bernard Hubbard, his son.

Courtesy BBC People's War

This one haunts me, it's the closest both to my house and to the thing that started making me do the Blitz stuff. Thomas died within 20ft of our back gate, horribly, he died in an attack that tore the back out of our house, destroyed a whole row of terraces on St Mary's taking the whole Potter family with it. When i look out from our back door, I can see the row that isn't there, and see the Row that replaced the one he lived in, within touching distance, and there you have why really.

So, hello neighbour.

Like a giant 1930s radio.

The heart of Darkness, or one of them.

Fleet Street used to be a river, then an open Sewer, now it's a museum.

The black stuff is aptly called 'vitriolite' which I assume is rolled out of the solidified vitriolic right-wing views of it's staff.