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Bill Morgan was my father. He died a year ago in November 2002 just a few weeks short of his 100th birthday. he was too young to fight in WW1 and too old for WW2, but he did belong to Dad's Army - the Home Guard. He kept a journal throughout the war and this is his eyewitness account of the worst air raid on Cardiff in 1941.
In 1941 there was a severe air raid on Cardiff, the first of many:
We were drilling when the bombing started. I believe our sergeant, a silly chap, would have been delighted to have gone on – presenting arms to salvoes of bombs perhaps. However, we were told to get down to the city centre.
The sky was a dull red from two great plumes of fire. The streets of Gabalfa were utterly deserted while above us AA shells were bursting and we could hear the drone of planes. We came to Cathays Terrace and suddenly houses gaped at us with doors and windrows blown out. Ambulance men were bringing people out on stretchers.
Reaching Queen Street we saw the Dutch Café burning fiercely and passed through a shower of fine sparks. We were told to proceed to the Infirmary to help evacuate patients. To our right, Dewi Sant and Howard Gardens School were burning, while before us Roath Rd Wesleyan Church was a furnace.
We got to the Infirmary to help carry out patients, most of them frail and terrified, being carried out through the smoky darkened corridors to face the terrifying glare of three mighty fires.
We started the long march back up into the peace of North rd. To the left a little lock keeper’s cottage was quietly burning itself out. Two young girls of about 15 marched behind us for security. They said they’d been at the pictures. They gave our corporal sixpence for our company. We got back at 2.45 am. We had done a job of work, but not one I want to repeat.

All his life, my Dad was stoical and accepting about his experiences. The vivid and yet laconic tone of the above piece is typical of his style. Later in his Home Guard career, a colleague dropped a tram rail that they were lifting as part of the war effort onto his foot. He got gangrene and two toes had to be amputated - even then he never really complained - it was just one of those things. He had sharp - and low- opinions of politicians. Continuing his journal after the war, he expressed dismay at the grey world of food, fuel and housing shortages and blamed the Attlee government for their failure to sort it all out.

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