The Clydebank Blitz could not be least described in a single story. It is thousands of tragic experiences bonded together by a single catastrophic event and like all things which entail human activity it is complex. Through lessons learned elsewhere, Clydeside by 1941 had prepared itself comparatively well to undergo aerial attack. No one however could have predicted that in the first brutal onslaught the Luftwaffe would dump the bulk of its destructive load on the small industrial town of Clydebank. All who inhabited this small Clydeside town were effected by it’s wide spread ferocity. Terror, pain, grief, loss and breathtaking bravery were all to be experienced on those two dreadful nights. Above all things, this is a story of humanity which belongs to the blitz generation.Clydebank Blitz
'The Burning' watercolour 3.6 X 1.8 Mtrs.
Clydebank was a small, elegant and well structured industrial town. It possessed both design and architectural integrity. Densely populated red and honey coloured sandstone tenements dominated the town-scape.
Repaired post blitz, and still in existence, it had a town hall designed in an Italian classical renaissance style and a central library with a classical facade, part funded by Andrew Carnegie.
An extraordinary abundance of beautiful churches served the diverse Christian denominations. Cinemas and dance halls catered for the entertainment of the population. Distinguished looking schools strove to fulfill the promise of educational equality and on just about every corner stood a Georgian styled public house with stained or etched glass windows.
Clydebank’s housing stock consisted of 98% rented accommodation, mostly privately owned. The Town Council built Parkhall and North Kilbowie. Housing estates to aspire to, with gardens large enough to grow a decent crop, allotment gardens being very much part of life at that time.
There were also factory built properties. Large employers, Singers Sewing Machine Factory and John Browns Shipbuilders constructed houses for their key workforce.
For the same reason William Beardmore built the Dalmuir district, in its own right a small town. Nothing like tied housing to guarantee employee allegiance.
Builders Sir Robert McAlpine & Sons constructed on a dominant hill site, tiers of terraced houses rendered in cement grey. Viewed from the River Clyde the flat roofed terraces were thought to resemble Jerusalem and the area came to be known poetically as the Holy City.
Speculators prompted by Clydebank’s industrial expansion built not only tenements but grand houses to accommodate higher managerial ranks. The diversity of the housing stock regardless, was well planned and orderly.
Clydebank, a new and growing town, was populated through immigration. From Dublin and Donegal in Ireland they came in droves seeking employment in the shipyards. Transplanted from the Highlands and Islands came Gaelic Scots. A healthy farming and crofting stock which formed much of the Clyde Valleys police force. Clydebank Highland Association thrived and its pipe band was world class, in its ranks were Scotland’s finest.
From the mining areas of Lanark there came an influx. Add to this, Italian immigrants, Simeone, Tedichi, and Capaldi, descendants of whom can still be found amongst the population.
Civic pride was high for what became known as the ‘rising-est burgh’.