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The day Tangmere was bombed, Harold Taylor was working on the roof of Bartholomew's Grain Store and Mill in North Gate. Just after lunch, the Battle of Britain began. It was a beautiful, cloudless sky and he and his brother, Bill (with whom he worked), had a grand view of the tragic event. Harold was born in the late 1920's and so remembers well the days of the Second World War. At this time he was living with his parents and five siblings in Chichester. Harold recalls...
Later that evening, I cycled over to Tangmere by the lower road, which was later cut to extend the airfield. At the corner of the road over the boundary fence was a damaged bomber, possibly a Whitworth. I think that this plane had used the airfield as an emergency landing from a previous situation, but was now more severely damaged.
One could clearly see all the demolished hangers, and damaged aircraft on the ground, though whether friend or foe was not all that easy to distinguish. I believe all the attacking aircraft were shot down, at or near the scene.
When I got home I discovered that my father, who was a first aid party leader, had been there all the afternoon helping with the casualties. He was in a filthy state and all covered with white powder. One story he told me does not compare with the official records. He said that there was an air raid shelter in which the W.A.A.F'S were sheltering, that became flooded by a burst water main, and because of other structural damage, it was decided to seal it up. The official version is that there were no W.A.A.F casualties.
I recall being sent to Shopwyke House with Bill. This was the home of Lady Carlisle, but had been taken over as a rest centre for the pilots from the surrounding airfields. A German bomber had been shot down and went nose first into an ornamental pond on the lawn, where it had exploded. I understood it was a Dornier 217, but I believe records say it was a Heinkel 88. The actual purpose of our visit had nothing to do with the plane; nevertheless we were taken to the site.
We had gone to see the head gardener who was still in residence and maintained the gardens, both vegetable and flower. When the bombs had exploded some shrapnel had blown over the house and gone through his back door, right through the gas oven door and embedded itself in the back of the oven and the wall. Of course there was nothing we could do on either count, other than give advice as to which quarter to seek help.
My brother knew the old boy from way back, and we spent most of the time surveying the kitchen garden and came away with a goodly collection of vegetables. I seem to remember a fine crop of leeks.
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