Guildford in the Great War

Excerpt:

THE MENACE FROM THE AIR

 

When the Zeppelin came to Guildford

 

One of what may be called the minor inconveniences of the Great War was that our towns and cities were for a long time plunged into almost inky blackness. But this minor inconvenience had to be suffered in order to avert as far as possible the major one of being bombed from the air by hostile aircraft. Although the possibility of air raids was present to the minds of the authorities, it does not appear to have been regarded seriously for the first two or three months of the war, probably for good reasons.

But in October, 1914, it was deemed wise to take certain precautions, and the Home Office issued a general Order, applicable to the whole country, that where necessary " steps may be taken to prevent the use of powerful elevated lights or sky signs which are visible from a considerable distance," and in certain circumstances might "serve as a guide to hostile aircraft." This was interpreted by some in Guildford to mean that all outside lights of every kind must be extinguished after sunset, but it was pointed out that this was not the case, and that street lamps could not be regarded as coming within the description of " powerful elevated lights." So they continued to be lighted, though not for very long. In January, 1915, orders were issued that all lights " other than those not visible from outside " were to be extinguished between the hours of 5 p.m. and 7.30 a.m., and that no headlights on motor cars should be used, but sidelights only.

At once there was a remarkable transformation, and the clock seemed to have been put back 100 years to a time when public lighting was unknown. No one would have believed the difference the Order made unless he had experienced it. The streets, save during the period when there was a moon, were pitch black, for the Order applied to all premises—private residences and business houses—and, where there were lights inside, the windows had to be effectually screened so that no glimmer could be discerned outside. Those who would have been ready to declare that they could find their way about the town blindfolded found that with their two eyes straining into the darkness they could not be sure where they were going.

There were many amusing and some disconcerting incidents. People bumped into one another on the pavement and in the roads, and begged the pardon of those they could not see; the newsboys called the evening papers, and had their contents bills, but neither boys nor bills could be seen. One had to be careful walking on the path lest one slipped off the kerb; and it was a weird experience late at night for two people to be walking towards one another in the road, and each to hear the other hesitate and falter as they got near because neither knew exactly where the other was.

Some bumped into the lamp posts; one at least found himself hurled back on to the road when his head came in contact with a tree he was unable to see, and he had a beautiful black eye for a week afterwards. It was possible sometimes to keep direction by watching where the houses on either side were visible against the sky, but this help was not available on moonless or very dark nights. Altogether a walk abroad at night was something of an adventure, and many made it a rule not to stir from their houses after dark unless they were compelled to do so. Some who did carried electric torches, which could be seen flashing occasionally—though the constant use of such aids was officially frowned upon; and a few carried old-fashioned lanterns with candles which gave a faint but sufficient illumination.

This Order—issued about the middle of January, 1915—was revoked in part in a day or two, but after the first air raid in this country the regulations were gradually tightened up and, later on, rigidly enforced. Householders throughout the borough had to screen their windows so that no light could filter through. Some put dark paper over the inside of existing blinds; many had to go to the expense of special blinds. Shopkeepers were subject to the same necessity, and, in particular, skylights had to be effectually covered up. The churches and chapels were not exempt. They, too, had to cover their windows so that no light was visible outside, and, as may be imagined, in certain cases this was difficult, and meant a good deal of expense. In some churches the hours of service were altered, and evensong on Sundays and other days was held in the afternoon so that people would have time to get home before darkness fell.

For a while some of the street lamps were lighted, but the upper part of the glass was blackened so that the light would only shine downwards. To mitigate to some extent the inconvenience and the danger of the darkened streets the kerbs at corners were whitewashed, and some of the trees by the roadside were whitened to a height of five feet to make them more easily visible. At a later stage even perambulators had to have a white light at the side and a red light at the rear. The blinds of trains had also to be drawn at night. The effect upon trade was for a time serious, but gradually residents got into the habit of doing their shopping by daylight, and the traders began to close early.

In November, 1915, the Guildford Chamber of Trade appealed for a relaxation of the lighting restrictions in their town, as they considered it outside the air raid danger zone; but, unfortunately for them, a Zeppelin had reached Guildford a month earlier, and the Home Secretary declined to accede to the request. In their annual report two or three months later the Committee of the Chamber of Trade stated that "the stringency of the lighting regulations has turned shopping after dark into something of an adventure not lightly to be undertaken, and the deadly dullness of trade has caused most of the traders who could possibly do so to put up their shutters at the early hour suggested by the Chamber." Another regulation which arose out of the menace from the air was that clocks were not to strike the hours or quarters, and the church bells were forbidden to be chimed or rung after dark, lest the sounds should serve as a guide to aircraft hovering overhead.

Air Raid Precautions.—In May, 1915, a notice was issued by the Mayor (Mr. G. S. Odling Smee) advising the inhabitants what to do and what not to do in the event of an air raid. They were advised to get under shelter at once if in the streets; school teachers were recommended to continue lessons, but in the event of damage to buildings to march the children out as at fire drill; those in Government and municipal offices were advised to continue at work; those in private houses were recommended to stay there and not to " rush out to see what is going on."

At one time it was suggested that the siren at the Electricity Works should be sounded when enemy aircraft were reported to be on the way, but a very short experience of this method was enough. The long unearthly wail that went forth was blood-curdling, and some declared they would rather risk a raid than undergo such torture. Besides, it was pointed out, such a penetrating shriek would be heard a long distance away, and would guide airships to the spot. So this was soon stopped.

At a later period of the war the Guildford Education Committee issued a notice to head teachers of all the elementary schools in the town that in the event of notice being received of an impending air raid during school hours the children were to be dismissed at once and told to go home as quickly as possible. This did not find favour with some people, and it was contended that it would be better to keep the little ones in school rather than send them out panic-stricken into the streets.

The special constables who were enrolled shortly after the outbreak of war had instructions what to do in case of air raids, and the St. John Ambulance Brigade, as is recorded in another section of this record, were also on duty on these occasions, and they fitted up a temporary receiving ward for 20 patients in the Congregational Hall to deal with any casualties that might arise. The Guildford Division of the British Red Cross Society also offered their assistance to the authorities in attending to any who might be injured in air raids on the town, and Lady Rowley, vice-president, made an appeal for recruits for this service.

The Coming of the Zeppelin

According to Captain Joseph Morris, author of " The German Air Raids on Great Britain," there were in the course of the war 51 airship attacks and 52 aeroplane attacks on this country. In these raids 9,000 bombs, of an estimated total weight of 280 tons, were dropped. Great damage was done to property in London and elsewhere, and 1,413 persons were killed and 3,408 injured. London suffered more than half these casualties, 670 persons being killed and 1,962 injured in the Metropolis.

The raid on Guildford took place on the night of Wednesday, October 13, 1915, and it was a beautifully clear night. Five airships crossed the North Sea to our coasts, and they dropped in all 102 explosive bombs and 87 incendiary bombs, killing 71 people and injuring 128. London's share of these casualties was 38 killed and 87 injured.

The Zeppelin that reached Guildford was the L. 13, and it was in command of Kapitanleutnant Mathy, one of the most daring and capable commanders in the German Naval Air Service. He and the commander of another Zeppelin were to circle London and attack it from the south-west and southeast respectively. In his book quoted above, Captain Morris says that "Mathy, in the L. 13, swept round by St. Albans, Watford, Uxbridge and Staines, and so to Guildford, where he twisted about, momentarily lost. Then he resumed his outward circle, passed Redhill, then on to Bromley, and next Woolwich, which he reached shortly before midnight." He was attacked by gunfire near Hatfield on his return journey to the coast, but got away—this time—without mishap.

There are several different versions of the attack on Guildford, and many speculations and conjectures have been made as to the objective or objectives of the commander of the Zeppelin. Something may be said on these points hereafter, but we will now proceed to give the official report of the Press Bureau, issued on the morrow of the raid; an impression jotted down hurriedly an hour or two after the attack; and the detailed official account released by the Press Bureau after the conclusion of the war.

But we must preface the official report issued on October 14, 1915, by a few words of explanation. At this time the strictest Press censorship was in force. Not only was every newspaper editor forbidden, on pain of heavy fine or imprisonment or both, to publish any details of such raids without previous submission to the Press Bureau, but he was also forbidden to indicate in any way the localities affected by the raids. The restrictions went even further. There was a general prohibition even against the compilation of accounts of such raids and of other information which might by any possible chance get into the hands, or to the knowledge, of the enemy.

So it will be seen that it was quite out of the question for local papers to do what in ordinary circumstances would have been done—-give a detailed description of the raid, with particulars of where bombs were dropped, the damage done, and interviews with those who had any first-hand knowledge. Indeed, so drastic were the restrictions and prohibitions, so serious the consequence of any infraction, that two local papers did not feel justified in publishing a single word of the Guildford raid in their columns lest it might be held that such publication indicated the locality in which bombs were dropped.

As it happened, the Editor of the " Surrey Advertiser " had a short time before submitted in duplicate to the Press Bureau a certain report he desired permission to publish, and had received, with the permission, an intimation that the Press Censors should not be troubled unduly, but that editors should exercise their own discretion. So in this particular matter the
Editor did exercise his discretion by reproducing the official report, though for a few days afterwards he had visions of a court-martial and subsequent solitary confinement in the Tower or elsewhere for a few months.

But to get on. Here is the official report, issued by the Press Bureau on Thursday, October 14, the day after the raid:

" The War Office announces that a fleet of hostile airships visited the Eastern Counties and a portion of the London area last night, and dropped bombs. Anti-aircraft guns of the Royal Field Artillery, attached to the Central Force, were in action.

" An airship was seen to heel over on its side and to drop to a low altitude. Five aeroplanes of the Royal Flying Corps went up, but, owing to atmospheric conditions, only one of the aeroplanes succeeded in locating an airship.

" This aeroplane, however, was unable to overhaul the airship before it was lost in the fog.

" Some houses were damaged, and several fires started, but no serious damage was caused to military material. All the fires were soon got under by the Fire Brigade. The following military casualties, in addition to the one announced last night, have been reported: Killed 14; wounded 14 . . .