Finding your way around my Croydon posts

 I had so much information on the bombing of Croydon Airport (RAF Croydon) and the neighbouring factories and houses that I had to spread it out. 

If you are interested in a particular person you might want to start here; when you find the person’s name, go to the top of that list and you will find a clickable link that will take you to eyewitness accounts specific to their location (if available). 

You can also see a map of all the locations and aerial photos from the time here. 

You can click here for a little historical context and general eyewitness statements.

Finally, there is a two-minute British Pathe film of the scenes in the factory estate about an hour after the attack happened which you can view by clicking here (remember to use full-screen).  If you click here I have tried to match stills from the film to 21^st century Google Street Views.

 

Acknowledgements

While events were still in living memory, Douglas Cluett, Joanna Bogle and Bob Learmouth wrote a book called “Croydon Airport and the Battle of Britain” – without this a lot of the eyewitness statements and details would have been lost.

Anton Rippon for his diligence to find the fascinating details about Croydon in the local newspaper in Exeter!

Books I have quoted from:

Joshua Levine “Voices from the Blitz and the Battle of Britain”

Bob Ogley “Surrey at War”

Berwick Sayers “Croydon and the Second World War” including the Roll of Honour, the list of people from Croydon who were killed between 1939 and 1945 or who died in the borough

Kaye Webb (editor) “Lilliput Goes to War”

Ben Wicks “Waiting for the All Clear” – the original motivation for this whole work was when I read someone recalling that 300 girls had been killed at a scent factory next to Croydon Airport.  While that turned out to be ‘fake news’ the real story was a fascinating one.

 

Websites:

Alamy

Ancestry

Britain from Above

British Pathe

Commonwealth War Graves Commission (CWGC)

Find My Past – generally I find Ancestry easier to use but FMP has an invaluable facility to search the 1939 Register by address

Home Front Legacy 1914-1918 – their diligence in photographing the 1917 railway platform, a relic of the National Aircraft factory, still visible on Princes Way was my big break in working out where the British Pathe film had been shot

Kenley Revival for the information about a survivor of the bombing at Bourjois

Croydon 15th August 1940: those who died

 There are two main sources for naming the people who died on 15^th August 1940

·        Croydon Roll of Honour (CROH), published in “Croydon and the Second World War” by Berwick Sayers

·         Commonwealth War Grave Commission (CWGC) register of the civilian war dead 1939-1945

The sources mainly agree on names, and on the location where the person died they never disagree but one source might give a precise location such as the NSF factory and the other might say “Waddon factory estate” or “Croydon airport”.  Where either of them gives a precise location, I have assumed that is correct.

For people lacking a precise location in either source, I have used the 1939 Register to look up their occupation and, where possible, matched them to a known location.  In five cases, even this is not helpful and we do not know.

 

At British NSF Factory (link)

Hans Saemann, aged 42 born in Germany to a Jewish family.  Married to Edith, lived in Chesterfield House in Mayfair, just off Park Lane.  Occupation: company director

Bob Hutchins, aged 33, married Helene Wingendorff the previous year.  Occupation chief engineer, works manager, radio component manufacturer.

Edgar Dunn, aged 26 and born in Winnipeg in Canada.  Occupation in 1939 Register: engineer in charge of lab making radio components.

Kenneth Phillips, aged 29, born in Wales.  Married to Alice Crawshaw.  Occupation in 1939 Register: foreman, wireless.  Reported as having been in the test room at the time of the bombing.

John Temple, aged 20, possibly from Durham.  In 1939 Register his occupation was wireless components tester.

Reginald Collingwood, aged 26, had married Doris Paul a few months earlier.  Occupation in 1939 register: universal grinder.

Henry Smith, aged 20, living with parents.  Occupation: wheelwright.

Percy George, aged 45, married to Alice Robinson.  Occupation toolmaker.

Kathleen O’Neill, aged 35, born Kathleen Roe (or Rowe), married Charles O’Neill.  Occupation in 1939 Register: small press operator, wireless components

George Townsend, aged 30, married to Sybil Gordon.  Occupation in 1939 Register was fitter and turner but CROH says by 1940 he was a tool inspector.

Leonard Tucker, aged 17 and living with his father.  Occupation storekeeper.

Alfred Willson, aged 52, married Elizabeth Hall and lived in Battersea.  Occupation in 1939 Register was factory cleaner.

Bessie McGrattan, aged 45.  Married Fred Fudge but seems to have been divorced.  Occupation: secretary to the company – CROH says she died at Post 27, Queens Way.  This may have been the small structure on the corner of Queens Way and Princes Way seen in the British Pathe film (from 15 seconds).

Eileen Dennis, aged 42.  Occupation: clerk.  Born in Croydon, in 1939 she was a charge hand at a wireless factory in Portsmouth.  Cluett reports two clerks died in the Wages Office

Grace Richardson, aged 39, born Grace Padbury, married Walter Richardson.  Occupation in 1939 Register: mechanical, bookkeeper and short-hand typist

William Edwards, aged 17 and lived at Foss Avenue, just across Purley Way.  In 1939 he was an errand boy at a wine merchants, so he may have been an apprentice.

Ronald Field, aged 16 also from Foss Avenue.  May have been an apprentice.

John Ford, aged 16, may have been an apprentice.

David Leahy, aged 43 born in Cardiff, married to Catherine Crampton.  May have served in the army in India.  Occupation at NSF not known.

Sydney Hogsden, aged 31, married Louisa West.  Occupation not known, in 1939 Register he was a roof tiler.

Bertie Willcox, aged 58, born in Steyning in Sussex,  Married to Caroline.  Occupation at NSF not known, in 1939 Register his occupation was public convenience attendant.

Dorothy Friend, aged 20 and lived in Coldharbour Road, just across Purley Way.  Occupation at NSF not known.  In 1939 she was an ‘automatic operator, soap manufacturer’ which could be Bourjois, but both CWGC and CROH say she died at the NSF Factory.

 

Alfred Woolgar, foreman in charge of inspection of wireless components – NSF is not specified but this seems the most likely location.  Aged 26, lived with his parents in Maida Vale (one street away from another Blitz Incident).

Leonard Davies, aged 20. Living with his mother.  In the 1939 Register he gave his occupation as “fitter assembler, small electricals company”.  This is not certain to be British NSF but I have assumed he was there on the balance of probabilities.

 

At Rollason’s (link)

Stanley Norton, aircraft sheet metal worker.  Aged 43, married to Dorothy Davey.  From Barnsley, served in Durham Light Infantry in the First World War.

Leonard Norton, welder. Aged 19 and Stanley’s son.

George Hebb, aircraft rigger.  Aged 26, had been married to Daisy Antink for just over a year.

Sydney Underwood, aged 24.  In the 1939 Register his occupation was ‘sheet metal worker, hot and cold [illegible] fitter’.  I have assumed he was at Rollason’s based on the similarity of his job to Stanley Norton.

 

At Bourjois (link)

Henry Beard, examiner and storekeeper.  Aged 27, he lived in Hornsey with his wife May Green.

Ivy Bailey, age 20, occupation not known but described in CROH as a munitions worker in the B.S Factory which I have interpreted as Bourjois Scent.

John Costa, occupation not known.  Aged 41, married to Ethel.  In 1939 his occupation was manservant, gardener etc at a private school at Ruskin House, Croydon but that may have been evacuated when war broke out.  It’s possible he had found work at Bourjois.  One eyewitness reports speaking to the commissionaire as he left the building who was subsequently killed – this could have been Mr Costa.

 

At the Government Training Centre (link)

Leslie Orton, aged 35 and married to Olive Beevor.  In the 1930s he lived at Yarmouth in Norfolk and in the 1939 Register he was a motor engineer, MIMT garage.  He died on 17^th October, just over two months later, from his injuries.

Patrick Hogan, aged 22, parents from Dublin.  Only recorded in CWGC, not CROH.  In 1939 Register his occupation was ‘trainer at Waddon Government Training Centre’.

 

In local houses (link)

John Goodman at 2 Coldharbour Way.  Aged 37, married to Florence Purdy for 15 years.  1939 Register occupation French polisher (incapacitated).

Alfred Waterman at 4 Coldharbour Way. Aged 54, married to Olive Blake – 1939 Register records him as having no occupation owing to war wound, presumably from the First World War.  Prior to this he had been a railway porter.

Maurice Maddison at 18 Leyton Crescent.  Aged 11, schoolboy.  CWGC records his date of death as 15 August 1941 but I have assumed CROH is correct.

 

Location not known

Horace Allsop, aged 25.  Born in Croydon, he lived locally with his widowed father.  In 1939 his occupation was given as ‘painter’.

Victor Bradford, aged 32.  Born in Bromley, married Ivy Crathern early in 1939 and they lived in Beckenham.  In 1939 his occupation was ‘motor salesman’.

James Brown, aged 44.  Married Edith and in 1939 gave his occupation as ‘canvasser (directory)’.  By 1940 he was a Special Constable in the Metropolitan Police Z Division.  CROH says he was missing after the air raid.

Bertram Esten, aged 39.  Information difficult, surname could be transcribed as Ester, Exten or Eaton.  Married, in 1939 Register gave his occupation as ‘hairdresser’s assistant’.

Edwin Martin, aged 44. Died on 17^th August at the War Memorial Hospital in Carshalton.  He does not appear in the 1939 Register but his daughter, Lillian, was a soap packer so there could be a link with Bourjois.

Roy Norris, aged 32 born in Bath and married to Althea Eyles.  In the 1939 Register his occupation was ‘radio purchasing manager’ so he could be linked to NSF.

Frank Wheeler, aged 56. May have been born in Camberwell, married to Bertha.  CROH says he was a hot water fitter/engineer’.

 

RAF

Samuel Adams

Alfred Couling, aged 20, born in the Hackney area, buried in Stoke Newington.

John Dell – note CROH has his surname as Sell

Peter Halley, aged 24 from Glasgow.  Married Roberta and lived in Maida Vale.

Harold Hurley, aged 23, born in Bristol

Bernard Mills, aged 20.  Probably born in Marylebone but buried in East Ham.

Croydon 15th August 1940: Corporation housing estate, Purley Way

 

Local houses off of Purley Way

With thanks to Anton Rippon for identifying this account from the Exeter Express and Echo

https://insidecroydon.com/2020/09/30/britain-1940-the-day-that-bombs-rained-down-on-croydon/

“Rescue work, which started in Croydon within a few minutes of the dropping of the bombs last evening, continued until after midnight and was resumed at dawn today.

“Four private houses were demolished on the Corporation housing estate adjoining the airport. The ruins are still being searched. The dead include two men who were killed when a row of six houses on a housing estate were demolished. Bombs fell in front and behind the houses, leaving a crater 25ft feet deep and 35ft across.

“One of the two men who were killed gave his life in shepherding his family to safety. He saw his wife and four children safely in the Anderson shelter and was going there himself when a high-explosive bomb dropped in the back garden. He was killed outright. The other victim was in an Anderson shelter with his wife and son on the opposite side of the crater. He died after being dragged from the damaged shelter. His wife and son were unhurt.

“When a demolition squad went to one of the houses this morning, they heard a cheerful whistling among the ruins. After lifting pieces of masonry and fallen beams, they found a budgerigar singing happily in its cage. The wires of the cage were twisted and the bottom of the cages filled by splintered glass, but the bird was none the worse.

“Many of the rescue squads have now been working continuously for over 16 hours, searching for any other victims.”

 

Croydon 15th August 1940: the Bourjois factory and the rest of the factory estate

What happened at Bourjois?

Bourjois made soaps and scents, including the famous “Evening in Paris”.  This webpage:

http://theglamourologist.blogspot.co.uk/2011/12/cosmetics-and-world-war-two.html

gives more details of the impact of the war on the cosmetics industry.

Bill Whitehead was an apprentice at Bourjois.  As he left work on that Thursday evening,  he spoke to the commissionaire and they could see the German planes.  Bill remembered saying, “I don’t like the look of those” and the other man replied “Neither do I, you’d better get off home, son.”  Within minutes the commissionaire had been killed by machine gun bullets. (quoted in Cluett et al, pages 73-74)

Cluett et al suggest the first bomb hit Bourjois, instantly killing three of the four soap millers, including Georgie Beard who was the night foreman of the soap department.  The only survivor among the millers was Johnny Potts “who suffered a broken neck when a milling machine fell on him, and permanent deafness from the blast” (page 73).

Harvey Bennette was a messenger boy, seemingly working at the hospital (he says he saw the clouds of smoke and then heard the explosions, so he must have been some way away) and went with the first ambulances to arrive.  They went to Bourjois.  “[T]he tanks that held the cosmetic substances had burst – and the smell was quite, quite appalling.  Some people, thinking it was gas, put on their gas masks.  I saw some legs under a machine.  I thought, ‘Oh, must get that fellow out ...’ and he was pulled out from under the machine, covered in dust and debris. There was no blood. He hadn’t been cut at all. But he was dead.”  (quoted in Levine "For gotten Voices of the Blitz and the battle of Britain"). 

The most likely match for Johnny Potts is John Putt (b 12.7.10) whose occupation in the 1939 Register was “Miller, soap works (heavy work)”.  He lived at 6 Morslea Road, Penge with his wife of just over a year.  Lilian (nee Claydon) gave her occupation as “Stamper, soap works (heavy work)”.

In general the wounded outnumbered the dead by about three times and many workers would have left the scene either physically injured or struggling to come to terms with what had happened.  Some of them left eyewitness accounts, but by chance we have a photo of one survivor of Bourjois, Ivy Gatland and a glimpse of her life can be obtained from this webpage:

https://www.kenleyrevival.org/content/new-contributions/flight-sergeant-d-h-leason-letters-home-1940

A now-defunct webpage suggests Florence May Goodman (b 25.12.21, soon to become Poulton) and her future sister-in law Beatrice Vera Horder (b 18.3.21) were also present at Bourjois:

http://myweb.tiscali.co.uk/vademecum/tree/info/h01.htm

Using the facility on the Find My Past website to search the 1939 Register on keywords, there were several hundred people living in the Croydon area in 1939 who gave their occupation as working in the soap or perfume industry – many of these would have been at Bourjois and the other survivors could be identified through that source.

 

Elsewhere on the factory estate

Bill Whitehead remembered a bomb falling outside the Hatcham Rubber Company and blowing him flat on his face.  Another bomb fell near the Day and Night Café where Bill had taken refuge, causing the counter to fall on him (Cluett page 74).

The Central Electricity Generating Board stores were damaged when a bomb fell outside Bourjois, just across the road (Cluett page 74).

The only exception was the Government Training Centre where CWGC says that one man was killed; this was on Stafford Road (Cluett page 77).  This mysteriously named location was difficult to find but Hansard, the account of proceedings in Parliament, for Thursday 2^nd May 1935 says, “Training Centres … at which selected men from the scheduled depressed and certain other areas are given a six months' intensive course in a trade.”  This reminds us the 1930s were times of large-scale unemployment, hence government run re-training centres.

 

Croydon 15th August 1940: Redwing and Rollason's

 What happened at Redwing?

Redwing was located in the most easterly hangar of C block (so closest to Purely Way), according to Cluett.  While several accounts describe it as a factory, Redwings only ever manufactured 12 planes and this seems to have been in the 1930s; by 1940 their business was aircraft maintenance and repair/

A bomb “burst through the roof of Redwing’s main hangar … causing a fire which was quickly extinguished.  The seven [strong] first-aid team of the firm who were at practice when the raid began were first on the scene and were able to render good service to the many injured in the raid.  Employees went back into the hangar to help dismantle the Vickers aileron assembly jigs.  Care had to be taken not to make too much noise in case the vibrations brought down more of the reinforced glass from the shattered roof.” (quoted on pages 76-77).

Doreen Bull said:
“I was working at Redwings Munition Factory at Purley Way, Croydon. Because we had been working long hours (with very little pay) the foreman said we could go home at 5.30 on the Friday, which was the day before my 18th birthday. It was a beautiful August evening. I was looking out of the window waiting for my mother to come home from shopping when I saw lots of aircraft bobbing and whizzing about. I thought they were Canadians or Americans fooling about. At about 6.50pm there were almighty bangs which shot me right across the room into the garden. They were German planes bombing Croydon Airport which I lived near (and still do). My mother came in all flustered and pushed me into the shelter, but all I thought about was my father who was on duty as Police Security at the airport. I ran out but couldn't get very far as there were huge boulders down the road. An RAF fellow told me my father was OK and was helping to get the injured out of Rollason's factory. He came home about 3.30am, covered in dust and blood and his boots had big grooves in the heel where the German bombers had machine-gunned them. There were lots of people killed during this raid as there had been no warning at all.”

(http://news.uk.msn.com/uk/articles.aspx?cp-documentid=154656506)

It is strange she describes Redwing as a munitions factory when this does not match with any other source.

 

What happened at Rollason’s?

Rollason’s business was located in C hangar; like Redwing its main business was the maintenance and repair of aircraft.

Roy Farquharson was an apprentice engineer at Rollason’s and remembers the silence after a bomb exploded. “All around was devastation – walls down; the glass hangar roof in shreds. There was a man standing on the edge of a piece of glass high up on the roof calling to be taken down.  I managed to get myself up to my feet and saw for the first time the sight of the ruins and the dark bodies that were laying all around me.  Before I knew what was happening there was the sound of another aircraft swooping low, and a man pushed me into a depression in the ground to take shelter. As I did, two rows of dust puffs erupted from the ground like lines of little volcanoes.  I had no idea what they were at the time, but I was later told they were bullets being fired from the Stukka as it swept back overhead. …

More than 80 of the men I worked with died that day.  It was very traumatic. It changed the way I thought about the war. I didn't blame the Germans for bombing us, because, after all, we were bombing them too. I just felt the whole thing was stupid and unnecessary.  At least, that's how I felt about the whole thing as I lay in the hospital, watching the surgeon walking along the ward with the blood of the victims all up his arms."

(taken from the website of the Bath Chronicle, but the page has now been take down: http://www.thisisbath.co.uk/War-hit-home-Luftwaffe-paid-visit/story-11354166-detail/story.html)

Note while I have followed the story that this took place at Rollason’s, some details are better suited to it having happened at the near-by British NSF factory.

Rollason’s was certainly on fire – one account, quoting a relative, says incendiaries were the cause (another webpage that is no longer accessible http://www.janestevens.co.uk/rollason/index.htm).

Geoffrey Doorman said it was “burning for a long time after the raid and seemed to be spreading” (quoted in Cluett, page 79) and “The shed, 400 yards long, housing Rollason’s repair factory was gutted …”

Croydon 15th August 1940 Introduction

 The bombing of Croydon Aerodrome (RAF Croydon), Thursday 15^th August 1940

Britain had been at war just under one year but in that time Germany had forced the surrender of first Poland, then Denmark and Norway, then the Netherlands, Belgium and – unimaginably – France.  Most of the British army in France had evacuated from Dunkirk but without the tanks and artillery crucial to modern warfare.  Hitler threatened invasion and the RAF was fighting for control of the air in the Battle of Britain. 

At 6.50pm on that sunny day, German aircraft attacked the aerodrome at Croydon, in peacetime London’s foremost civilian airport but now an RAF fighter base and home to one operational squadron (number 111) and one Canadian squadron gaining experience and upgrading their equipment prior to becoming operational (number 1 Squadron of the Royal Canadian Air Force).

About 20 German planes were involved, mainly Messerschmitt Bf-110s.  Each plane was capable of carrying two 500kg high explosive bombs to destroy buildings.  Accounts suggest some bombs may have contained oil designed to set buildings alight and also incendiary bomblets.  In addition, each plane had machine guns, mainly for defence against attacking aircraft but also used to ‘spray’ the target area with bullets.

Walter Martin was an anti-aircraft gunner on the roof of the Aerodrome Hotel: “We were in the mess room at Croydon when the tannoy yelled ‘One, one, one – come to readiness!’ followed by ‘Scramble!’ [One-one-one was the squadron’s number, 111]

By the time I reached my station only one plane was left on the field. I heard a whistling noise, just as I had heard in the Talkies and my immediate feeling was disbelief. A moment later I was convinced. Everything shook as the bomb exploded on Purley Way, on the footpath in front of a public surface shelter. While the debris was still shooting skywards, there was a second whistling and a bomb was aimed right at the back of my neck. It fell against the hotel wall beneath us.

The whistling and exploding continued in rapid order, and all seemed very close indeed. Any moment the next one would exterminate us, seeing that we were sitting on top of the target. Ready to shoot, we looked up and saw two white twin-engined planes, one of which was diving directly towards us. At that moment the huge cloud of dust and smoke drifted over. We were in a dense fog and could not see a thing. We craned our necks and swung the guns around looking for a chance to shoot but the chance never came. It was bad, standing there, waiting to be blown to pieces and not being able to hit back. We disobeyed orders and fired blind.

Silence descended and the smoke began to clear. It was all over. There was a strong smell of cordite and the roof of the hotel was covered with earth and debris. We had suffered no casualties but we were very shaken. As we remained poised, waiting for the return of the raiders, the air raid warning sounded, so we had every right to expect another blasting.  We didn’t have one.  The ‘all clear’ sounded minutes later but it was a long time before we were allowed to ‘stand down’.

Some members of our troop had a narrow escape. A bomb had come down between two gun pits, broken through the concrete roof, gone down to the basement and set off ammunition which exploded like fire-crackers.  Five airmen had been killed.

Rollason’s aircraft repair works was blazing and I could feel the heat on my face. Most of the damage seemed to be among the works and hangars. A red bus stood askew in Purley Way and looked as if it had been thrown aside by the force of the explosion.”

(quoted in Ogley, page 48)

Jean Bodger, was at home in Wallington, close to the aerodrome:

“Suddenly I heard the sound of aircraft followed by a lot of noise and was so frightened that I headed straight into the back garden where we had excavated and installed a very primitive air raid shelter. I tried to get Ruff to come in with me, but he was barking ferociously at the planes overhead.”

Alice Bodger, Jean’s mother, wrote a letter to her sister in Wolverhampton:

“I suppose you heard on the wireless about the bombing of Croydon Aerodrome. I was just walking up Foresters Drive with Daisy Fildew and we noticed the sky seemed alive with planes - but, being used to seeing so many go up from the drome, we looked up and I said ‘Bless their hearts’.
We stood calmly gazing and suddenly heard explosions of some sort. Then we heard a terrific noise and between the houses backing on the Drome, I saw mountains of smoke. We dashed for our lives to Daisy's shelter and it seemed as if all the bombs were let loose all together. The bombing was marvellously accurate. There are factories on that side of the drome and I understand they were hit and I'm afraid there will be many casualties in one as they were still at work. It's a factory which makes aeroplane parts.”

(http://195.188.87.10/history/ww2peopleswar/stories/87/a4040687.shtml)

Brian Haines was living in Hamilton Way, just to the west of the aerodrome.  “[A]ll of a sudden there was a terrific roar from the airfield and it was the fighters taking off.  I always dashed to see this spectacle, it really was rather like some ancient cavalry charge – knights in armour – as these fellows went thundering up and away … This time, the aeroplanes took off to the west, and that was it as far as I was concerned – show over …

Perhaps five or six minutes went by while we were stuffing away the ham and cos lettuce, and suddenly I heard another extraordinary noise like an aeroplane coming down out of control …

[A]t that moment there was the most God-awful crash. I have never heard anything like it in my life. It was as if the whole sky had split open – not just a bang but … very, very difficult to describe, it wasn’t so much a noise as a sort of physical phenomenon, and a great gout of earth and stuff rose into the air from the gas company sports ground.  This character had presumably been aiming at the hangars on the north side and the factories, and he’d missed.”

After seeing his mother and sister into shelter he went back to watch. “There was another Messerschmitt 110 climbing away in the general direction of Peaks Hills and Hillcrest Road and two Hurricanes, one coming up and one going down, and I thought to myself, ‘Well, there’s one that’s had it – he won’t get very far.’ I remember that there was a tremendous tinkling and clattering of spent cartridge cases.  I knew very well that Tug Wilson and Bill Light, the two RAF friends of mine who were anti-aircraft gunners, had 20 millimetre Oerlikon cannons in this big emplacement where Plough Lane jutted out into the aerodrome, and I heard their cannon open up. It fired about 20 rounds and stopped and I thought someone must have hit them; and yet there was nothing happening over there – the attack was on the north and east.”

(quoted in Cluett et al page 71)

Jean Gough saw the attack from the chemist’s shop where she worked on Wallington High Street.  She had a date with a Canadian sergeant who should have met her at work at 5.30 but actually arrived at her home at 10pm; he said he had been on a trolley bus going past the airport and that during the raid the power cables were cut so he went back to help with casualties. (quoted in Wicks)

Croydon 15th August 1940: aerial photos

 The following map from Cluett et al shows some key points:

1930s aerial view from the north-east, Purley Way on the bottom left, Merlin House (as it is now) middle on the left at the junction with Queens Way.  Halfway along Queens Way, the two chimneys that are visible in the British Pathe film can be seen.

From the Britain From Above website, taken in 1939 and viewed from the south-east:

The second photo enlarges C Hanger, nearest the camera, with the factories behind.

The 1950 view from Britain From Above.  Note the rebuilt C Hanger is much shorter than the 1940 version, also the 'gap site' where NSF had stood just above C Hanger and to the left.

The following photos were taken by the Luftwaffe and dated 18th August 1940:

The second photo is an enlargement of the airfield and the factory area; it is notable that the red ink line runs along the RAF perimeter, with no explicit interest in the factory area.

Croydon 15th August 1940: British NSF eyewitness accounts and photos

 As we saw in the British Pathe film (https://blitzincidents.blogspot.com/2023/10/british-pathe-bombed-factory-croydon.html) the British NSF factory was wrecked in the attack.  The entrance fronting Queens Way looked like this:

The company British NSF was so-called because it had split off from the original German company Neurenberger Schraubenfabrik (NSF) under two German-Jewish brothers, Hans and Justin Saemann.  For more details see:

https://nsfcontrols.co.uk/a-short-history-of-nsf-controls/

or http://www.nonstopsystems.com/radio/hellschreiber-components.htm (scroll down to halfway down)

The company made components for electrical equipment and many of the Croydon staff described their job as involving parts for radios or wirelesses.

The fullest eyewitness statement was by Joseph Cotton:

I was feeling a bit tired so I went round by the time office to look at the clock. It was five minutes to seven and I decided I would knock off at seven. I took off my overalls and hung them on a nail, opened my drawer to get my soap to have a wash. Somebody had nabbed mine so I borrowed Ron’s and went down the end of the shop to the washroom.

It was quieter here than out in the shop and the splashing and water was the only sound. I was hypnotised by the way in which the lather dropped from my hands in big dirty blobs and went swirling round and round before vanishing down the plughole.  I’d go to the pictures tonight I decided.

There was a crash.  Like thunder it was: like the sheet-metal thunder you hear in amateur theatricals, a thousand times magnified.  The floor, concrete, was shaking.  Air blasted in through the door hit me like a whip-lash.  I went down on the floor close to the wall.

Paddy burst in and flopped down beside me.  “It’s all right mate,” he was shouting, “it’s all right.”  A big sheet of plywood fell from above and landed beside us, we pulled it up over us and glass and brick beat down upon it.  Crash followed crash.  We could hear the whine of each bomb – every one was coming straight at us and we clung close together like a couple of kids.  We were afraid – those bombs were close.

Paddy’s face was close to mine, his nose was bleeding, blood running down and dripping off his chin.

“The bastards,” he yelled in my ear. “The dirty German bastards.”

Explosions were coming from underneath us.  I was waiting for the floor to open up and hurl us skywards.  There came a lapse and we lifted our heads.

Plaster dust filled the air and I could not see across to the other wall.  Paddy saw the dust and yelled, “It’s gas.  The bastards are dropping gas.”  He struggled up, remained for a moment as a blurred silhouette in the doorway, then vanished from view.

The dust was down my throat, I could not breathe and wanted a drink.  I crawled out from under the plywood and went over to the sinks.  Falling brick had knocked the bottom out of most of them.  I put my mouth under the tap and drank.  I noticed a poem pencilled on the whitewashed wall – it concerned the foreman.  A piece of chewing gum was stuck there too.

I could hear the rising note of an aircraft engine and dived under the plywood once more.  More explosions and whining.  Crashes that made the whole scene shake like the picture thrown on a sheet by a cheap cine projector.

How lonely I felt.  I wished Paddy had not gone.  The dust cleared a little and I could see out through the door.  I got an impression of a great crack racing diagonally across the face of a wall.  It sagged, bulged, then fell like a man struck behind the knees.  I could see deep blue sky and clouds where the roof had been.

Then it was quiet.  I kicked the protective plywood away and sat leaning against the wall for some moments.  I thought: “How many are dead?  Quite a few, I bet.”  The door was hanging on one hinge.

“How am I – all there?  Not a scratch.”  A procession of people was passing the door, feet crunching on the glass-strewn floor.  They nearly had cut heads from the fallen glass.

Two men went by carrying a third between them.  One of his shoes had come off, there was a hole in the heel of his sock.

“Poor devil.  How bloody his face is. Wonder if Ron and Moggie and the other blokes are O.K.?”

Small pieces of glass were still dropping, tinkling, to the floor, like the rain drips from trees when the storm has passed.

“Better get out.”

I got up, passed out into the shop and picked my way between benches, over the floor strewn with brick and glass to where my coat hung.  I slung it over my arm and walked to the other end of the shop.  A bomb had landed close here.  Figures were stretched out between the benches.  First aid-men were passing among them.  They lay where they had fell and the falling dust settling upon them had transformed them into so many statues and made them a part of the debris in which they lay.

There were pieces of men, too.

I went into the street.  A Ford V8 was lying upside down on the roof of the building opposite.  Falling telegraph poles had festooned the roofs with wire.

The road was covered with glass and brick and steel girder-work from roofs.  One building was on fire and a column of black smoke rose into the blue evening sky.  Firemen were on the scene and their heavy rubber boots made a clumping noise as they moved backwards and forwards getting the hoses unrolled.

People were still coming out of the stricken buildings.  A group of girls came out, some of them with faces stained a shocking crimson with blood from head cuts.  Some were hysterical.

Two men in shrapnel helmets carried a figure out on a stretcher and placed it near to where I was standing.  It was a woman and her clothes had been blasted off.  She lay very still.  I wondered if she was dead.  The row of silent helpless figures grew longer and cars were commandeered to get them to hospital.

I knew some of those silent figures.  It could not be reality.  Things like this never happen to people you know – only to persons you read of in the newspapers or see in the newsreels.

At this point the air-raid sirens blared out, tearing on nerves that had already been taxed to the utmost.  I went down a ditch by the side of a factory wall.  People were running in every direction.  Ambulance men were trying to get a stretcher through the narrow entrance to a shelter.

Spitfires and Hurricanes roared by overhead, forming a protective circle around the stricken area.  Some people saw them and just flung themselves flat, hands covering their ears.  “They’re our boys.  It’s O.K. They’re ours,” someone shouted.

A man walked slowly across the road and sat down on a pile of bricks, his right coat sleeve had gone and his arm was severely lacerated.  A friend put a cigarette in his mouth and lit it for him.  He looked up at him, smiled quietly, then drew on his cigarette and started at the ground as he drew patters in the dust with the toe of his shoe.

The planes had gone and it was very quiet, save for the crackling of flames.  Beside me in the ditch was a heap of big cardboard boxes.  Some had burst open – they contained radio sets.

There were no more bombs and the “All clear” soon sounded.  I caught sight of Ron across the road, pulling his bike out from under a pile of bricks.

“Bloody awful, wasn’t it?” he said.

“Yes,” I replied, “I lost your soap.”  We laughed – we could afford to laugh, for we had been very lucky.

(titled Mechanic in an Air Raid, from “Lilliput Goes to War” (1985) edited by Kaye Webb)

The factory seen from the roof of the neighbouring Bourjois building (from Cluett et al)

Joss Spiller was in the toolroom:

“As we had steam and impregnating boilers, my first reasoning was that they had exploded, but almost immediately I realised the terrible truth, for I heard the screaming of a bomb, if not bombs.  Mr Parker of the machine shop was shouting ‘Bloody Nazis!’ and everything was so black. Then there was a gush of fire and I realised that the gas main had been struck. After the second explosion I must have blacked out for I came to under the bed of a lathe – covered with debris – which was at least 12 yards from where I had been working … You can imagine the scenes were pretty horrific to behold.” (quoted in Cluett et al "Croydon Airport and the Battle for Britain", page 76)

Vic Woods in the drawing office only realised something was wrong as “the building was falling down around me. Then people began running from the works past my office door and I was urging them to hurry.  The next thing I remember was being outside the main entrance among several parked cars when another bomb was on its way. I dived under the nearest car, when there was an almighty explosion, and rubble began to rain down on the car, which began to squash me. I said to myself, ‘Hold out, hold out, there won’t be much more, then I blacked out.” (Cluett et al, page 75)

In the photo Vic Woods is on the left, Bob Hutchings on the right (from Cluett et al)

Ernest Jones came out of the CEGB stores across the junction of Queens Way and Princes Way from NSF: “Black smoke and fire were coming up from the NSF factory.  I don’t know how many men were in there, but I’m sure they never found many of the bodies; they couldn’t have done with such a direct hit.”  (Cluett et al, page 77)

British Pathe: "Bombed Factory - Croydon (1940)"

 The British Pathe website of black and white films contains one called “Bombed Factory – Croydon 1941?”, which you can view by clicking here.

It takes two minutes and three seconds to view but in that time the camera crew take up 14 different positions, typically only shooting about six seconds of film in each one so it is a little disorientating on first viewing.  You can slow down the film to one-quarter of the speed by clicking on the three vertical dots in the bottom right of the film and selecting playback speed.  But what are you witnessing?

It’s Thursday 15^th August 1940, probably about 8pm in the evening of what had been a sunny day.  What we know call the Second World War was less than a year old but in that time Germany had over-run first Poland, then Denmark and Norway, then the Netherlands and Belgium and finally – unimaginably – France.  The British army had been evacuated from Dunkirk but without the tanks and artillery essential to compete with the German army.  The fight for control of the air space over southern Britain, the potential invasion landing grounds, was now beginning.

We’re a few hundred yards from the perimeter of RAF Croydon, the transformed main civilian airport in London.  Starting at 6.50pm and ending about 10 minutes later, the RAF station had been dive-bombed by up to 20 Messerschmitt 110s.  Intentionally or otherwise, factories nearby were bombed as well, and this is what the film shows.

The film starts just off of Stafford Road.  After panning rapidly in the first two seconds, the camera settles with a view south along Princes Way (Camera Position 1).  The set of four steps is notable in the foreground and these can be matched to the following street view (from 2012 as it is the clearest view, but still there today):

Note two-thirds of the steps have been covered with a ramp to allow vehicles access.  This building survives from the National Aircraft Factory, the first building on the site in 1917 and the steps led up to the platform for a railway line which would have run north along Kingsway and across Stafford Road to join the existing line.

The fire engine in the Pathe film would have been parked roughly where the van is in the 2012 view.

The building on the left of Princes Way in 1940 makes a contrast to the back of the Amazon depot we see today – this was the Hatcham Rubber Company.

After 8 seconds, the camera moves to the other side of Princes Way (Camera Position 2), approximately level with Camera Position 1 and facing south.  On the left of the frame, we can see the sign “Goods Entrance” by the doorway to Hatcham’s.

After 15 seconds we move along Princes Way, towards the smoke we have been looking at in the distance.  This is impossible to recreate exactly from Google Streetview because the camera was close to the buildings on the right of the street and the only pictures are from the left side.

The modern reveals that just around the corner to the right, out of camera shot in the 1940 film was the distinctive front of Bourjois House, the makers of soap and perfume, and very little changed to this day.

The building to the immediate right of the camera in 1940 was a store for the Central Electricity Generating Board.  Ahead and to the left is a parked car and just to the right what appears to be a public shelter for air raids, designed as a small, temporary shelter for those caught out in the open.  Behind that we see smoke and rubble, and in the distance a much taller structure looms; this is the back of C Hangar which fronted on to the airfield itself.  The end we can see housed Rollason’s Aircraft Services and the hanger stretched off to the left to Purley Way; that end housed Redwing Aircraft.

Noted the injured woman with two supporters moving from right to left (17 to 20 seconds into the film) probably someone injured at Bourjois.

After 24 seconds the camera advances about ten yards further forwards (Camera Position 4, approximated below taken from 2017).

We can now clearly see that on the opposite side of the street, a substantial building has been wrecked; this is the factory of the British NSF Company, makers of electrical components.  At 28 seconds the camera starts to pan left and at 29 seconds we see the street sign for Queens Way and behind that the extent of the destruction with the first intact parts of the factory not visible until the film reaches 32 seconds.

At 35 seconds the camera moves to the left of the previous one, crossing Princes Way and into Queens Way.

Notably the triangular roofs on the left side of the 1940 film still survive; these were part of the 1917 National Aircraft Factory.

The camera then crosses Queensway and seems to be standing among damaged cars on the street, roughly where the cars are parked in the modern view above.  The camera focuses on a damaged car, then pans left to show three men in a group, which then breaks up and we see the shock on the face of one young man (RAF?).  As the camera continues to pan to the left we see the rest of the undamaged factory running the length of Queens Way to purely Way.  In 1940 this would have been occupied by Bowater’s who had corrugated cardboard and cardboard boxes; they are responsible for Merlin House, the art deco style offices facing onto Purley Way. 

The two chimneys confused me initially as I thought they were the power station (at modern day IKEA) which would mean this photo was facing north.  However, a 19139 aerial view shows two chimneys on the roof of Bowaters and we can also align with the white houses in the distance on Purley Way – the distinctive sloping roof just visible in 1940 has been lost due to an extension in the last few years, but using Google Streetview’s 2012 image the original can be seen:

Back in 1940, the camera then takes up three positions within the wrecked NSF factory.  At 69 seconds the camera returns outside to show firemen setting up a hose but there is no clue to the exact location.

At 86 seconds the camera moves again and shows a man pushing his bike over a maze of water hoses for fire-fighting.  This seems to be back in Princes Way at the side of Bourjois, looking north and hence back towards the position where the film started:

The camera then goes back into the wreckage of the British NSF factory, coming back to the road for the final sequence, starting at 112 seconds.  We seem to be in Princes Way at the side of Bourjois but looking south towards the RAF airfield.