The night of Wednesday 16th April 1941 saw an
especially heavy raid on London, all the more shocking for the comparative calm
of the last few months. During the raid,
a mine (a powerful explosive suspended on a parachute) landed on buildings on
the south-west side of Paddington Station, closest to Eastbourne Terrace.
I have found one report of what happened, in Tim Bryan’s
book, “The Great Western at War 1939-1945”:
“[I]n the early hours of 17th April … a landmine
exploded in the departure roadway, close to the station manager’s office …
causing extensive damage. The Company board room and part of the general
offices were demolished and severe damage was also sustained by the waiting
room on Platform 1, which unfortunately was kept open at night. A number of
passengers were trapped beneath the rubble and debris from the blast, and
despite the actions of the rescue services a number were killed. In total, 18 people were killed including six
members of staff, and a further 97 were injured.
Almost the whole of the side of the station adjacent to
Platform 1 was affected by the blast and in reporting the incident to the
board, the General Manager listed a number of other offices and premises on the
station that were damaged or destroyed in the raid. This list included property
occupied by Boot’s the Chemist, Lyons and Wyman’s, as well as Company offices
for season tickets, urgent parcels and passenger enquiries. The No. 2 booking
office was also wrecked, as was one of the station’s buffets. When the landmine exploded at 2.46am, as ARP
and first aid parties went to the scene, other Company staff immediately began
the task of clearance and demolition work.
With so many casualties, Paddington Borough Council sent additional
rescue parties to assist in the removal of the injured from the rubble of the
waiting room; further help was given by a detachment of Auxiliary Military
Pioneer Corps.
Clearing up operations proceeded at high speed, allowing the
work of the station to proceed remarkably well … on Friday [the 18th]
the main booking office had received enough repairs to allow operations to
restart there. Such was the destruction
that for the following four days No.1 platform road was taken out of use, and
used to stable wagons into which debris and rubble could be loaded directly.”
Photo 1 - looking north up the side of the station along the departure road. The gap in the buildings on the right and the pile of rubble mark the site of the explosion. The people injured in Eastbourne Terrace would have been in the houses on the left; the street entrance is Chilworth Street.
Photo 2 - from the street level, above Photo 1 and to the left but otherwise in the same direction. The scale of the destruction is now more apparent.
Photo 3 - taken in 2011, this shows the gap left in the buildings
Photo 4 - a screen capture showing the area on bombsite.org. The red circle with the white parachute in the centre of the screen marks the site.
In modern terms this is where the Crossrail works are taking
place, with Eastbourne Terrace entirely closed off. Up until 2011 this was where you would have
got in a taxi. From within the station
it is halfway up Platform 1, under the prominent clock facing onto Platform 1,
where there is a statue to Brunel. (This
entrance is known as The Clock Arch to distinguish it from The Horse Arch which
is next to Sainsbury’s – both closed at present due to building work).
Photo 5 - a modern view of Platform 1 on the left of the concourse as you look towards the trains. The clock is on the left of the picture, just beyond the Macdonalds sign
In the Commonwealth War Graves Commission (CWGC) list of
civilian war dead sixteen people (civilians) died or were fatally injured,
thirteen in the station and three in the houses opposite on Eastbourne
Terrace. Bryan says 18 people died and
as a mainline station it is very possible some servicemen or women were also
killed as they passed through which could explain the difference in numbers.
Bryan also refers to passengers being the victims but
scrutiny of the people listed by CWGC tells a different story because 6 of the
13 people who died at the station had home addresses within a mile of the
station (some much closer) and it seems likely some of the rooms were being
used as a shelter during the raid, possibly for people who felt unsafe in their
own homes. (The underground, a shelter
option in other parts of London, was useless here: the line at the station on Praed Street is
only just below street level and many people had been killed here six months
earlier (on 13th October 1940).
The six locals were:
William Monteith
Brown, a single man aged 25 from 163 Sussex Gardens. He was the son of William Young Brown, a foy
boatman from South Shields, and Sarah Maria, who lived in New Barnet.
George Clayden,
aged 65, from 14 Formosa Street, Maida Vale (the other side of the modern
Westway). He had married Emily Hawkins
on Christmas Day 1897 at St John the Evangelist Church in Kensal Green. They had at least three children, at least
one of whom died as an infant. George
was a ‘provisions warehouseman’ on his marriage certificate and in the 1901 and
1911 Census returns so it is possible (speculation) he could have been working
at the goods depot at the station in 1941.
Kathleen Margot Dawe,
29, living at 14 London Street. Born in
Croydon the youngest of four childen, her father was a civil servant working
for His Majesty’s Stationery Office. Her
mother, Edith Madeleine Taplay was the daughter of a confectioner, but died at
the age of 43 when Kathleen was five.
Her father remarried eight years later.
Robert Heller,
from 158 Westbourne Terrace. Robert’s
father was a Dutchman Hans Heller, and Robert’s wife was called Malvine
(possibly Lustig or Lull), and does not appear in UK birth records. He thus seems to have spent at least the
early part of his life in Europe, most likely the Netherlands, although CWGC
does not list him as a Dutch citizen. Marvine
continued to live in London after the war, working as a dressmaker.
Herbert Hindes and
Ivy Doris Hindes, from 155 Praed Street.
Herbert was born in 1902, son of a builder’s labourer, living at 8
Kingsgate Road in Kilburn. He married
Emily Amelia Poole in 1923 and two years later their only child, Ivy Doris, was
born. They were not a wealthy family,
Herbert left Emily effects worth £170.
Father and daughter died together, strengthening the impression local
families were using the station buildings as an ad hoc air raid shelter.
Photo 6 - an aerial view of the site, the grey roof of the station in the centre; Eastbourne Terrace runs along the left hand side from top to bottom of the screen with orange machinery in place for the Cross rail works. Just under halfway up the side of the station is a gap in the buildings fronting to the street, and this was the site of the explosion. Praed Street runs left to right at the bottom of the picture; the impressive white building at the Praed Street entrance to the station is the Hilton Hotel.
Seven people who died at the station came from further
afield
Evelyn Elsie Bishop
was aged 20 and lived in Wraysbury, then in Buckinghamshire (now Berkshire, just
west of Staines and the M25) with her mother, Evelyn. (Her Father William John was still alive but
is not mentioned by CWGC.) Born in 1920,
she had married in the closing months of 1940.
Her husband, Ernest Thomas George Bishop (1921-1991), was serving in the
RAF.
Francis Connolly,
known as Frank was an Irishman having been born in Cavan in 1883. In 1911 he was a lodger at 847 Govan Road,
Glasgow, working as an assistant in a spirit shop (presumably alcoholic
spirits). At some point he married Anne
(born 1900 in Edinburgh, and 17 years his junior) and they had two
children. In 1941 they were quite poor,
Frank’s effects being valued at £145.
They lived at 15 Cornwall Street in Lambeth.
Frederick James
Mitchell, lived at 28a Willow Road, South Ealing, with his wife Mary
Elizabeth Louisa (4/7/1905-1986); I can’t find any evidence they had
children. Frederick was born in 1902 the
son of James, a railway carman, and Sarah; as we know six railway staff died in
the 1941 bombing this makes him a good candidate to have followed in his
father’s work. His effects were valued
at £198.
Joseph Alexander
Peddle was one of two teenagers to die in the explosion. He was born in 1923, and his father, also
Joseph, was a builder’s labourer. His
mother’s name is unclear but her maiden surname could have been either Todman
or Trotman. By 1941 he was living at 9
Sefton Avenue, Harrow Weald, with his father.
He was a member of the Auxiliary Fire Service.
Ernest Seeney was
aged 49 and lived at 11 Albion Road in Dagenham in 1941, but beyond this very
little is known about him. He may have
been born in Stratford in east London in 1892.
In 1901 he may have been living in the Northamptonshire countryside and
in 1911 he may have been a butcher’s roundsman living at 16 Seven Sisters Road
in Islington.
Arthur John Taylor
was a GWR policeman, presumably the forerunner of the British Transport
police. He was born in Uxbridge on 26th
June 1912 in Uxbridge, son of Edgar Harry (1879-1949) and Fanny (nee Russ,
1878-1958), the third of four children. His father was a carriage washer in
1899 on his marriage certificate, but by1905 he was a cloakroom porter.
One note on ancestry.co.uk says, “We believe he had red hair
and by all accounts was a very pleasant and charming young man. “ Arthur was known as Jack and married Phyllis
Elizabeth Williams in 1939 in Uxbridge; in 1941 they lived 22 Barnhill Road,
Yeading Lane, Hayes.
A contributor to ancestry.co.uk also says Jack fathered a
child in 1933 with Emma Hilda Trafford (born 1914).
Another contributor wrote, “I am
fairly certain that I saw a TV programme quite a while back that recalled the
incident of Arthur John returning to his office on Paddington station to get
some papers. He need not have done this and lost his life because of it. He
should have gone to the air raid shelter.” (http://trees.ancestry.co.uk/tree/23650712/person/1412411855/comments?pg=32768&pgpl=pid)
Frederick Charles
Willoughby was 50 when he died and lived in Feltham in Middlesex. He was
born in Camberley, son of Charles and Emma (nee Froom). His father was a
servant at the Royal Military College, Camberley. In 1911 Fred was an assistant postman in
Camberley. Little is known of him after
that. At some point he married a woman
whose first name began with an E.
Photo 7 - a view of the station in the 1920s looking towards the east. In the bottom left corner, a puff of white smoke from a steam train entering the station can be seen. The station itself is the large building running left to right in the middle of the picture, just below the centre. The street in front of the station is we look is Eastbourne Terrace .
Photo 8 - in a view similar to Photo 7, we see the view in 1947, two years after the end of the war. The gap in the station buildings onto Eastbourne Terrace is evident.
In the street outside the station, one person died and two
were fatally injured:
At number 34, Marjorie
Elsie Warwood was killed. She was
born in the early months of 1915 in Alcester, Warwickshire; she had one elder
brother. She lived with her parents Frederick
Arthur (1880-1969, a firewood manufacturer) and Effie May (nee Laight) at 10
Chilworth Street, a few yards from where she died. She was an Air Raid Warden.
At number 39, Joan
Katherine Belcher was injured; she died later that day at St Mary’s
Hospital, just the other side of the station.
She was the youngest victim, just seven years old. Her parents were William John (1889-?) and
Florence Lilian (nee Leney, 1890-1963).
Having married in 1910, her parents were 45 and 44 when she was born;
they can hardly have expected to out-live her.
Probably at number 33, Conrad
Mackay was injured and died at St Mary’s Hospital three days later, on
Sunday 20th. Very little is
known about him apart from his age, 22, suggesting he was born in 1919. One possibility is that he was born in
Cambridge, son of a woman whose maiden name was Rooks.
Photo 9 - a view from the hotel across the station roof to the gap in the buildings
Photo 10 - 2014 and a view of the Cross rail works and the gap site
The only other account I have found is in a book called “Waiting
for the All Clear” by Ben Wicks. A first
aid worker called Tom Bard recalled: “A bomb dropped on Paddington Station and
trapped a man behind a huge pile of debris.
A small opening was formed - it
could not be too large because of the danger of collapse – and the man was told
to lie down, put his arms through the opening and be dragged through.
He was told to be perfectly still while this was being done
because of the debris, but ignored the warning and twisted from side to side.
Just as he came through the opening he continued twisting and drove a nail
through the side of his head and died on the way to hospital.” (page 79)
