Peter Moore: An insight into horrors of war from my great Aunt, her diary and the Blitz

'As we commemorate the sacrifices made it is important to remember the horrendous experiences of people back home'

Air raid damage in the Blitz Pic Wikimedia

Reporter:

Peter Moore

11 Nov 2025 2:33 PM

Email:

torbayweekly@clearskypublishing.co.uk

When my uncle died my cousin was looking through his paperwork when she found an old diary.

It was written by his aunt, my great aunt. She was a nurse working from a boat on the Thames during the blitz in the Second World War. My cousin transcribed the original diary and gave me a copy before donating it to the Museum of London. Historians were aware of these boats but had very little detail. Now they have a day-to-day account. As we commemorate the sacrifices made it is important to remember the horrendous experiences of people back home.

She volunteered for the “River Emergency Service” when it was set up in 1938. On 1st September 1939 she was blacking out the windows with overalls, petticoats, frocks and curtains when the phone rang. She was to report to Whistler’s House in central London immediately.

She stayed there for a few days where she was told their new routine. They would be up at 5 am so that River Service would sail on the Thames from 7am to 8pm.

Each boat had three sisters and nine nurses, overseen by a medical officer. She described the Port of London Authority as chaotic. “It wanted a woman in authority who knew what to ask for and how to get it”. Feminism was not invented in the 1960s.

On the boat the buffet area was turned into a dressing station with splints, bandages and other equipment.

Nothing happened for a year and so the team kept fit with “physical jerks” which was probably the forerunner of palates. They also had darts competitions with some of the male officers who invited “a rather glamourous girl of ours” back for their “darts competition”. She was refused permission, but my aunt and another senior sister went instead. I’m sure the officers were delighted.

In May 1940 she heard France had fallen but commented, “nonsense, it must be a rumour”. When she heard it was true she wrote “I thought of our dear Dick over there, Charlie’s boy and wondered how he would come out of it”. “Dear Dick” was my father.

The nephew of one of the nurses was also “over there”. Apparently, a group of them captured some Germans with no idea what to do with them.

“Typical boys,” she commented. As they approached the beaches they got lost. The Germans helped and gave directions. When they arrived near the beaches they released the Germans, shook hands and wished each other good luck.

It was September 7, 1940 when “the ball started”. There were two levels of warning, yellow and red, not unlike today’s weather warnings but with far more dramatic results.

She saw a dog fight overhead when a Spitfire came down.

“The poor pilot came to grief”. Fire filled the sky and at 1am they were ordered to take the boat to Woolwich to pick up 250 casualties.

“We could see fire shooting sky high on the Isle of Dogs and some houses were brought down in Greenwich. Both banks of the river suggested running and spreading prairie fires. From factory chimneys, flames soared into the air... masonry crumbling and falling”.

As they approached Woolwich the air was so thick with smoke that the skipper put a wet rag over his mouth but soon a pilot launch came alongside. They were told not to go any further. It was too dangerous.

One night they were in an air raid shelter near the hospital with the sound of bombs exploding all around, some of which were close. Suddenly there was a loud bang on the door. Another bomb? They leaped up to find that it was a fireman bringing in hot tea.

The following morning they found the hospital’s new block with administration, X-ray department, massage, dispensary and the chapel all gone.

In one raid she was told of one man who was killed when blown off an escalator landing on live rails. The same night four buses were destroyed, killing their passengers.

Although London is now peaceful as we remember the horrors of the blitz it is important to remember that there are still civilians suffering war in Ukraine and Gaza.

So, what happened to my great aunt after the war? She became the matron at Ottery St Mary Hospital. It must have been a relief.

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