The Bergh Family Records

Francis Rattray Bergh

Period V

The Second World War 1939-1945

1939

September 3rd 1939 found Dad aged 63 years, still keeping fairly well in spite of an increasing blood pressure and still having intermittent trouble with his prostate gland, but except for a certain amount of impatience and irritability, born so patiently by Mother, he was looking fit and healthy. The war did not really start with dramatic suddeness so he had been able to prepare a few things for the possible arrival of air-raids, however, in spite of a few 'warnings' to begin with, the first few months were tranquil. A call had been made for Special Constables, so Dad once again at sixty-three reported at the Chiswick Police Station for duty! But was too old of course and reluctantly had to bow to the obvious fact. He continued at the office as usual but the excitement and difficulty in travelling to the City upset him a little. He came over with Mother and Doris to Staines for Christmas and continued fairly well to the Spring when he was later taken ill with Influenza and Bronchitis, however, he recovered and was keeping well till the German Blitz broke on us in the Summer.

1940

Continual air-raids and bombing attacks meant sleepless nights filled with anxiety and the travelling to London became worse and worse, as the trains or railway lines were hit the passengers were put out at stations en route and had to find their way onwards, the hour's journey to London frequently took four hours, and on his arrival in the City, it was more often than not to find buildings on fire, rubble, buses, ambulances in the roads and familiar landmarks destroyed. At the end of the day, usually filled with air-raid warnings he got home to Chiswick to hear the sirens go again, and another sleepless night of gunfire, bombs and all the other macabre effects of an air-raid. But he struggled on, determined to carry on and not be beaten by air-raids, 'London could take it' and so could Dad. Chiswick was in a loop by the river between Hammersmith and Barnes, and came in for more than the average number of bombs, incendiary bombs, land mines and other 'frightfulness'. At this stage the house was being hit with falling shrapnel, and numerous incendiaries were often so near that Dad had the beds moved downstairs and Mother and Dad slept in the kitchen and Doris by the stairs. Work was put in hand on a deep air-raid shelter in the garden. In the Autumn Dad became ill again, and, what was more ominous had his first attack of Angina, although he stoutly denied that he was ill, the strain of being bombed was obviously having its effect on him. In addition things were not going very well at the office. Business in London was at a standstill and Dad's income, which was getting smaller before the war, began to dwindle still further, and here a tribute must be paid to my sister Doris. I had my hands full with a family and practice expenses at Staines, my brother Rowie (R.F.B.) was in the army, and so it fell on Doris to support Dad and Mother or rather help them considerably. It must be born in mind, that she was earning her own living and would have contributed to her living expenses anyway, but through all these difficult years she kept Dad and Mother going and so earned a debt of gratitude from her brothers which will not be forgotten by them. In 1944 when Tio died and left Dad some money, Dad was able to refund my sister all she had contributed.

1941

Dad returned to the office when he was better but within a few days the building was hit by an incendiary and the top floors were burnt out, water used by the fire service ruined the office and soaked all the papers, however, with great difficulty they got things dried and re-opened the office in about ten days, within a week the building was hit again and completely demolished. Dad lost everything, apart from the personal aspect, Dad saw all around him, the ruins and chaos of the London he had known and worked in all his life, the familiar landmarks and the churches, all going, and I am sure that as each one went, a small spark of Dad's vitality died within him.

We in Staines, were having an unhappy time with the air-raids and it was customary for Mother or me to get through on the telephone to find whether or not we were all right. Up to now, bombs had fallen all around '33' at Chiswick but it was not to last. I received a telephone message at lunch time from Mother to say they had been hit the previous night, she had not been able to get through before. Molly and I hurried over to Chiswick and found the house practically demolished. A land mine had fallen within one hundred yards of the house. Dad was sitting on a chair amidst broken glass and plaster in what had once been the drawing-room, refusing to budge, he looked 'done-in', and Mother was not much better. Molly and I collected Dad's papers in one trunk, the silver and valuables we put in another and we took the family back to Staines with us. Fortunately Mother, Dad and Doris were in the air-raid shelter when the mine fell and were uninjured. They stayed with us for a week or two and then returned to Chiswick to live a hermit-like existence in the ruins of the house, patched up by first-aid repairs. This was getting too much for poor old Dad, and he collapsed, he was ill for several weeks with Pericarditis and Bronchitis and only Mother's care and loving devotion brought him through. Despite raids and gunfire, they stayed in Chiswick and Dad gradually improved so that by the turn of the year he was on his feet again. He had given up smoking and looked much older, he was unable to return to the office which had moved to a temporary building. In 1942 and 1943 he struggled on with intermittent attacks of Angina, but on the whole was accepting the facts and settling down to the fact that he would never work again. His blood pressure was gradually and remorselessly rising.

1944

On January 13th, 1944, Tio died at Brighton, a sad day for Dad, the last link with the old generation but Dad was mellowing, he was now sixty-eight years old and realized that besides Tio's death, his own end was slowly approaching. Tio left Dad some money and he was able to live more comfortably, as things permitted, for the remainder of his years. At this stage, it was decided to dissolve the partnership. H.R.Oldfield had died in 1940, Percy was not well and in fact died this year and only Bertram and Dad remained. Hart had gone and Dad was unable to work and so the firm of 'Oldfields' ended, another link snapped and gone.

1944 brought further ordeals with flying bombs and, later, rockets, the 'V 2'; just as the first bombs on London had fallen in Chiswick just behind the house, so did the first 'V 2' crash down within a few yards of where the bombs had fallen. First aid repairs, followed by further repairs kept the house continually patched up and as the war gradually drew to an end the house's condition gradually grew better.

1945

The end of the war in May, 1945 found Dad's health gradually but slightly improving, he was able to walk some distance but became very breathless on exertion. He had lost almost everything, his business, his office, nearly his home, but he still had his family and what is more he had lived to see Germany beaten and Hitler dead!

Copyright © Anthony Hickson