Doddlebugs And V2s Plus!

A Memory of Dagenham.

I moved to Lymington Road, Dagenham, in 1939, across the road from the school. At first I attended Green Lane School - same as Dudley Moor. I even had the same piano teacher. Miss Hoggard. But she gave up on me. In the early years of the War, bedtime was the Anderson shelter, and whopping great spiders! Searchlights swept the skies, and there was often the sound of anti aircraft guns. Shrapenl was plentiful. As the War moved on, it was fascinating to watch, without realising the horror, the 'dogfights' in the skies above Dagenham. My Dad was a trolley bus drive around East Ham, Poplar etc. and he swore the 'doodlebugs' used to follow him around. Our garden used to back on to an allotment and, across the way was Valence Avenue. 'Doodlebug' watching was a regular pastime, until the engine packed in, and then we got under cover. Just in case. I was evacuated for a brief period during the 'doodlebug era' to South Wales. On the way there, I linked little fingers with a Sylvia Titterton, and Carol, when we left Bonham Road School. We had a whale of a time, but I managed to get impetigo and scabies, and was brought back to Dagenham, daubed with gentian violet, after just three months. Then came the era of the V2's. Does anyone remember the one that dropped in boggy land behind Barton's Bread Factory? If I remember rightly, a piece came off and into the home of someone on the far end of Lymington Road, killing a Wren on leave. At the time I was in Wangey (?) Hall Chapel, located near the siren. I hurried home with my heart in my mouth because there seemed to be a pall of smoke coming from the direction of my home. What did shock me was the sight of my mother and neighbour, Mrs Hill, actually talking to one another. I think I was the cause of the rift! However, I regret to say that hostile relations were resumed the very following day. We suffered a few broken windows, but that was the extent of it.
Dagenham for me has all kinds of memories. My biological mother became ill and subsequently died, and Dad married again. And, in 1949, we moved to Stanhope Road, close to Becontree Heath. In those days, the bike was all important. That or the bus. We had the cinemas. Gaumont. Regent, and Mayfair. Occasionally, there were turns 'on stage' like Armand and Michaela Denis. There always seemed something to do. When TV first took up space in our home, Mum made sandwiches, a flask of tea, and the light was doused. Imagine that!
One of my pals was an Irene Edmonds who lived off Bonham Road. She used to write to Gene Kelly, and he used to write back. Funny how these little incideents stick in your mind. I think in a way that 'friendships' sum up my happiest memories of Dagenham.
There was Tripton's where I sometimes went in the evening. A nice lad by the name of 'Jack' walked me home latish one light, creeping up to 'midnight'. We weren't even having the suggestion of a 'snog' but out came Dad, all roaring bull, and chased him off down the road. Oh, the mortification. I wonder if he remembers?
I married an Irishman in 1955 at Old Church, Dagenham. (St.Peters and Paul) and twelve months later moved north to Blackburn in Lancashire. The countryside 'up north' is lovely, but a big chunk of my heart remains 'down south' and the memories of the people I knew.
Incidentally, 'googleearth' has permitted me to travel in and around Dagenham. Green Lane where I used to buy my carrots, the parks, the Civic Centre, Mayfield Road where I had a short stay with a Mr & Mrs Harris. Sunday mornings, we always got a cup of tea and piece of angel cake in bed. I think that's the limit of my indulgence. I hope it sparks a few memories for those who might read my rather jumbled up memories. It has certainly been my pleasure to read so many of yours.