So he was nine years old when the Second World War started. He hardly ever talks about that time. If he talks about his boyhood at all it’s probably to recall train-spotting on the old Southern Railway, or perhaps playing cricket. Cricket and steam railways remained two of his lifelong passions.
But there is one wartime incident he has mentioned a few times.
In 1944, when he was still 13 (so before August) he was living in Recreation Road, Guildford, with his parents and several other members of the extended family. It sounds like it might have been a bit cosy, if not crowded: he recalls that he was sleeping on a camp bed.
One night, sometime between about 11 and 12 pm, a Doodlebug came down in Guildford. It must have passed directly over Recreation Road, because it struck a tree in Stoke Recreation Ground - just forty yards away from their house. (That’s 120 feet, or a touch over 36.5 metres. Or just under the length of two cricket pitches, wicket to wicket).
’Doodlebug’ was the colloquial name for the German V-1, a flying bomb - or what we would call today a cruise missile. Between June and October of 1944 over nine and a half thousand of them were launched at Britain, the primary target being London. Their guidance system was rudimentary by modern standards: at their best, they could only hit a seven mile radius circle. Precision weapons they were not. About six thousand people were killed by Doodlebugs, thousands more injured, and many of these were civilians. The warhead was nearly 2,000 pounds of high explosive, which made it hugely destructive.
The blast shattered every window in their house, and blew in every door except the bathroom door, which was already open. The entire house was shaken and big cracks appeared in the walls.
No one was killed, or even seriously injured. However, Dad’s Aunty Em was seriously alarmed. Not by the explosion: but a male relative who rushed over to see if anyone was hurt entered her room unannounced - and for an elderly spinster that was most disconcerting! Apparently, she screamed.
What exactly happened after that is unclear, but afterwards my Dad lived with his cousins in another part of Guildford for a year, then with his Aunty Evelyn until he was old enough to leave home. He went to college, started work (as a clerk with the Southern Railway), did National Service, got married. Life went on, and began for me in 1957 when I was born (in Guildford hospital, as it happens, though a different one from Dad).
Yet if it hadn’t struck the tree, the V-1 might have gone on to hit houses in the road opposite (Stockton Road) and caused many casualties. Or, if it had begun its final dive just a few seconds earlier, if it had fallen just a short of the tree, it would have exploded in Recreation Road.
In which case, you probably wouldn't be reading this, because I probably wouldn't be here to write it.