When war broke out in 1939 everyone expected to see enemy planes appearing in our skies almost at once and invasion forces landing all along the south coast by sea or air. As it happens we were in for several months of what was called the "Phoney War", with nothing happening on the home front. But even so, Redland Park was affected in several ways. One was the necessity of preparing for attacks from the sky, and complying with blackout regulations. A church is a difficult building to effect this, but Mrs Thompson, Mrs Steadman, Mrs W Harris, Mrs Murray, Mrs Deayton, Miss Whitson and other ladies stitched diligently, and in a short time managed to make curtains to cover all the windows at a cost of £50.
The church was destroyed by an air raid in 1940. Meanwhile the cellars under the church were strengthened and set up with seats to be ready for possible use in case of air raids. Some meetings were moved from evenings to afternoons including the Women's Hour, members preferring to be indoors during the blackout.
A much greater affect was that so many members were being whisked away from Bristol. Nearly all the young men and women of the church were enlisted into the forces or into essential occupations. Month by month The Recorder published the Roll of Honour listing those on active service. In October, 1939, the first 22 names were listed, men of all ranks in all the services. Each month the list grew longer and promotions were mentioned.
The church's first prisoner of war, after Dunkirk, was Mr W W Ritchie Hill, who returned at the end of the war and was subsequently a Deacon of the church. Its first woman was called up in June, 1940 and subsequently several more joined the ATS (Army), the WAAF (Air Force) and the WRNS (Navy) as well as the Land Army.
In May, 1942, The Recorder states that there were nearly 100 members of the Church and Boys' Brigades in the forces. Fortunately only three were killed in action. (In the carnage of the First World War, 29 Redland Park men were killed, including the three sons of Mr & Mrs LP Nott).Two members were killed in air raids on Bristol: Mr J C Mann died during a freak daylight raid on the centre of Bristol in August, 1942; and the other was Mr Herman Hartley, a brilliant young man, the son of a Congregational minister, who died during a night raid while fire-watching for the firm where he worked.
Each year during the war, three or four times, a personal letter was sent by Mr Thompson to each member or adherent serving in the forces, enclosing a small present from the church. Once it was socks, knitted by ladies of the congregation. From time to time The Recorder published extracts from letters received in a "Home thoughts from Abroad" column from different battle fronts, from ships at sea, and from unspecified hush-hush locations. All were grateful for the presents and valued their continuing link with Redland Park. Most of them returned when the war was over and many later held office in the church.
Many school children and their teachers were evacuated to safe areas in Somerset or Devon (although not until after the worst raids on Bristol were over). Several older people evacuated themselves to quieter places, feeling that they could not help but would only be liabilities by staying.
All these things depleted the number of worshippers, though there were, on the other side of the coin, some very enthusiastic new members, who were moved by their companies to Bristol as being a safe area! Especially of note is the BBC which moved several of its departments here and for three years 1939-1941, took over our hall as a studio for light entertainment. At an evening meeting of the Young People's Guild in the Parlour, the whisper went round "Binnie Hale is downstairs". Many of these entertainers were moved to Bristol for safety, just as the children were evacuated for the same reason!
Younger readers will not remember the months of false alarms, when air-raid sirens sounded most nights, but we escaped, as bombs were not dropped, the planes just passing over. Therefore we developed a false sense of security, and no longer hurried downstairs into shelters on the first wailing ululations of the sirens, but turned over and went back to sleep again.
There were a few stray bombs dropped, probably jettisoned by returning planes, and Redland Park was unlucky on a night in September, 1940. The church had just been redecorated and cleaned and the organ renovated, when a single bomb fell in Whiteladies Road between the church and the bank opposite. It did considerable damage to both buildings, but I think did not cause any casualties. £250 had to be raised for repairs, and this was quite quickly achieved.
Then all was comparatively quiet till the evening of Sunday, 24th November, 1940. The evening service was proceeding as usual, Mr Thompson in the pulpit. The almost nightly siren hardly entered our consciousness, though the usual fire watchers were outside keeping vigilance. Unfortunately this time things were different. Bristol was the target. Little was thought of it when one of the watchers went up to the pulpit during the hymn before the sermon and whispered to Mr Thompson. At the end of the hymn he said in a calm way, "Something seems to be happening outside, and we have been advised to go down into the cellars". With rather a sense of adventure we trooped down, and there we had to stay till nearly midnight.
Mr Thompson was magnificent, one always thinks of this as being his finest hour. First he gave us a shortened version of his planned sermon, and we sang a few hymns. Then conversation was general, interspersed from time to time with an anecdote or a joke from Mr Thompson, all the time keeping up morale, making sure that we did not panic. Though we heard distant thumps and bangs we had little idea of what was happening outside, but he was kept informed.
As time went on we began to feel hungry, so we were very grateful when a large tin of biscuits was passed round. Mr CRJ Griffin, a Deacon and Sunday School superintendent, who was a manager of a bank just a few yards up from the church, had chased home in a lull and brought back the tin, purchased no doubt as a Christmas present.
When it was eventually safe to emerge, the all clear having sounded near midnight, the sky was a lurid red, and so bright that one could have read a newspaper. All the commercial centre of the city had been utterly destroyed. All the big department stores of Wine Street, the Upper Arcade and many others were flattened and all around the city were pockets of destruction. As we emerged we saw that a house in Burlington Road which backed onto the church had its roof on fire and as we watched flames belched out of the top floor windows, then from the next storey down. With so many fires all the water mains had run dry so that firemen could only stand helplessly by and watch having made sure that no-one was trapped inside.. Going home one kicked against bits of shrapnel still hot, and hoped that one's own home was safe. There is a lovely story, authentic, about one gentleman of the congregation who had stayed home that evening coming to meet his wife wearing a saucepan on his head, carrying another one for her. It was a miracle that we emerged unscathed from that raid, because in the next big blitz on 2nd December the church received a direct hit, and a bomb went right through to the cellars where we had been sitting, destroying everything including the magnificent rose window which had been crated and put there for safety.