A Near-Miss at Tea-Time.

My war in Surrey began with a bang.

I had a close-shave—I was six at the time-- was at the start of the Battle of Britain. It was a sunny Sunday afternoon in Autumn in New Malden, Surrey. My grandparents were down from the North to visit us in Orchard Avenue. We were having tea when out of the blue—no air raid warning—the house shook and there was a loud “crump.”

As a family we rose as one from the table and filed at speed into the front room. My father had built a crude shelter there using his desk to provide some cover. We crouched here until my grandfather and father thought it safe enough to investigate.

What they saw—about 120 yards up the avenue—was a line of demolished houses. Several people died in the bombing. But what was the target? The only logical answer was that the Luftwaffe had taken aim at New Malden railway station, which was just around the corner. Hardly a primary target—but a deadly one all the same.

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