OC Doug Winstone writes about his days at school during the 2nd World War

OC Doug Winstone has kindly written to me about his days at Colston’s.

When the sirens sounded

Although the worst of the Blitz was over when I arrived at the “Crib” in 1942 Bristol was still subject to a lot of air raids. I remember looking over the city to a mass of barrage balloons and listening to “Purdown Percy” (Anti Aircraft Battery) banging away with very little effect and spending what seemed like endless nights in the shelters.

These shelters were located in the tunnels under, what was then, the senior common rooms and the dining hall. The entrance was either through the common rooms, via the main hall, or from outside through the entry opposite the headmaster’s lawn, then down a short flight of steps – turn left into the “boot room” (where all the trunks and suitcases were stored) – turn right into what seemed to be a maze of tunnels with two-tier wooden trunks alongside one wall, and, together with a rather lumpy palliasse, it didn’t make for a comfy night.

There was a very strict procedure for getting down into the shelters. When the siren sounded, designated (reliable) boys had to close the shutters; and once these were secured the lights went on. Each boy gathered up his bedding-with dressing gown and slippers-to make an orderly way via the main stairs, main hall, and common rooms to the shelters. West House was first being the nearest, followed by East, South and finally North House. Once you had made it, in a rather dozey manner, and somehow in the crush (as there wasn’t an awful lot of room down there) you made up your trunk and tried to get a little sleep. I always found this difficult as the tunnels were damp, cold and noisy and it was a great relief when the “all clear” sounded and the whole procedure was reversed. For the rest of the night a little sleep was possible.

At the height of the blitz this was a nightly procedure and must have had some affect, through lack of a good night’s sleep, on a majority of the school. However, I suppose we were fairly resilient in those days, but schoolwork must have suffered a little. Well, mine did, and that’s my excuse!