Underground Common: Refuge stories from beneath the green

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Exploring London’s hidden deep-air raid shelter has become somewhat of a sought-after experience for many cultural enthusiasts and history buffs. Genéa Saunders investigates a collection of stories united in threat, protection and influencing change in Clapham Common’s AR WWII bunker experience exhibition.

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“My father was a warden during the war. He would be out every night with his torch and his helmet,” says Marie, 96. “When we heard the air raid sirens my mum, my sister and I would cower under the stairs until the ‘all clear’ was given. We had an Anderson (air raid) shelter in the garden but as my sister and I feared spiders, we preferred to be inside under the stairs.”

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Marie Scott the then 13-year-old lived in Clapham North with her father, mother and sister and another young family.  As a child of the Blitz, she became a bystander to the war on her doorstep seeing many casualties and much destruction to the local area, as well as witnessing the measures put in place to protect the community. 

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In 1940, Clapham Common became the selected site for one of 10 deep-air raid bunkers dug next to a tube line. The 10,000-capacity shelter was built as a direct response to adequate protection from the German bombing campaign that reigned across London for eight months.

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Made up of two 400m tunnels, including an upper and lower section – the site was nestled in the depths of the Northern line. By the time the two-year construction was completed the Blitz had ended, with many families like Marie’s forced to continue to seek refuge at home or on the platforms of underground stations. 

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Marie says: “We did try going to the tube station at Clapham North once to shelter during an air raid, but it was so overcrowded and so unpleasant that we decided that we would stay at home in future. If we were going to die, we decided we would prefer to do it in some degree of comfort.”

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This sentiment was one that was echoed by many Londoners. Marie vividly recalls how people appreciated movements of normality during the terrifying raids of hearing the bombs falling and not knowing where they were going to land. Admitting that a m the bandstand.

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Growing up in inner London, Marie describes the Common as being ‘the lungs of the city’, noting the open green space as vital infrastructure for leisure, socialising and well-being – before confessing “the idea of the country scared me”. Unlike most young people her age, she did not swap Clapham for the safer sights of rural areas but remained at home citing this decision as “ending her childhood and formal education”.

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During the Blitz over 1.5million children were evacuated to the countryside – with up to four million children being sent away throughout the course of WWII. Those left behind were often caring for relatives, entered into employment or were forbidden to move to the countryside.

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Listening to Marie, it’s clear that these memories represent a pain of the past, depicting a terrible ordeal that changed her life and many others forever. Although her tone becomes surprisingly upbeat when she begins to look back on her time as an operator, sharing how “lucky” she was not to be drafted into the women’s land army, but instead utilise the skills learned from her traineeship.“I trained as a GPO switchboard operator and was able to become a D-Day personnel with communications expertise. At age 17, I left Clapham and began transmitting messages to and from the beaches on D-Day,” says Marie. “The war was now right in my ears, it was as if I was there.”

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In the interactive and immersive showcase, visitors can step into  Marie’s story listening to atmospheric sounds and her personal account. The exhibition continues with events after the war.

By the end of WWII in September 1945, London was the scene of devastation following the heavy bombing the city had experienced. Many homes had been significantly impacted resulting in more than 1.5 million people being made homeless. It is estimated that around 750,000 new homes were needed to tackle the problem, and the government could not keep up with the demand.

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Whilst some families decided their best option was to live in existing housing—even if this meant squatting in vacant or abandoned flats and hotels. Some homeless families turned to the temporary housing solutions that were being provided by the government.

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The government's answer to the post-war housing shortage included several affordable options from conventional homes such as caravans, neglected or disused carriages and buses to army bases and air raid shelters.

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During this period, the efforts to rebuild London were underway. This would drive the biggest social change the capital had seen. 

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Three years earlier, in 1942, city planners such as Patrick Abercrombie had begun drawing up proposals analysing areas for social change in the capital. He looked at ways London could be reconstructed to create a balance between housing, industrial development and open spaces.

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Abercrombie's 'County of London Plan' consisted of a careful definition of the green belt. In large towns just outside of London, proposals included constructing satellite towns around an outer country ring. This saw many Londoners relocate after the war to the eight new towns like Stevenage and Harlow, further exacerbating the capital's labour shortages.

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The calls to answer the UK' labour shortage, have become a tale synonyms with the Clapham air raid shelter. Known today as the starting point for many West Indian arrivals and is considered the birthplace of multi-racial communities in London.

On the 22nd June 1948, HMT Windrush Empire arrived at Tilbury docks, with 1,027 passengers on board, including two stowaways who joined from Jamaica. The passengers included a Sierra Leonean RAF Officer, Polish refugees who were displaced by WWII, British women who had married West Indian servicemen during WWII, and people from the Caribbean islands including Trinidad and Tobago, Barbados, Bermuda and Grenada. Although up to 492 people on board were from Jamaica, mostly made up of ex-RAF servicemen who had responded to an ad in the Jamaica Gleaner newspaper of the ‘mother country needing support’. For a fare of £28.50 skilled men, women and children from across the Caribbean set out on a new journey.

More than half of all passengers had somewhere to live when arriving at Tilbury, but more than 230 people found themselves seeking refuge at the Clapham Common air raid shelter. Forcing the site to become a space for collective refuge once again.

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The provisions of the shelter had been redesigned to provide quarters for sleeping, eating and employment stations. In one report the conditions are described by one arrival as being “the bowels of South London”, in which he adds: “I curiously eyed the network of poorly lit, clammy, musty tunnels that had been offered as residence. It was primitive and unwelcoming, like a sparsely furnished rabbit’s warren. But in a strange new land, there were few alternatives.”

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Many opted to escape the sights of the shelter and spend time on the Common, which is easy to understand, given the contrasting environments. However, it must be noted that like the homeless post-war Londoners before them, the West Indian arrivals did not spend long living in the shelter. Many found jobs and accommodation after visiting the nearest Labour Exchange in Brixton.

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In the AR exhibition remnants of the Windrush arrival can be seen, including the signage, bunk beds and suitcase displaying a collection of artefacts that documents the cultural influences and unpacks the ingredients of the intersection of space, movement and diasporic visual language.

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Visitors were encouraged to think about the collection of stories heard along the walk and the thread of commonality that links them together - before documenting their own story, sharing their hopes and dreams for the future of urban green spaces.

The most important aspect of this story can be experienced outside of the AR exhibition in a live performance by Sam Mark who reimagines the Windrush experience. Produced from a London call-out and written by scriptwriter Seona McKenzie, the piece captures the thoughts and feelings of new arrival Percival. In which interconnectedness with space and place is explored, to highlight the security the Common provides.

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In recent years, the stories of the shelter have been united in preservation and repurposing. With the bunker being used to provide secure archive storage and accommodation for festival goers before laying dormant for over 20 years.

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In 1992 the air raid bunker was given a Grade II listing status in recognition of its history. In 2015, owners Transport for London were granted permission to repurpose parts of the shelter with a cafe or restaurant, alongside a space for an exhibition about the building's history. Although no signs of transformation appear just yet, at the rotunda site at Clapham Common, new discoveries of the wartime tunnel can be seen in the revamped section down at Clapham North. Thirty-three metres below the streets of Clapham, lies the world's first underground farm. Supplying local produce to Clapham and the surrounding areas, Growing Underground founders Richard Ballard and Steven Dring, have created a solution to sustainably combat food poverty and climate change by using the latest hydroponic technology and LED lighting powered by renewable energy to produce vegetables and salads.

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In the AR experience sections of the ripened crops can be viewed, showcasing the new emerging stories from the Common and offering a glimpse into how the infrastructure can continue to act as a space of protection in a new emergency. Particularly, in the visitors' own story where users are asked to consider the narrative thread and think about the importance of such spaces and the roles they play.

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With such historical importance, the stories from Clapham Commons air raid shelter will no doubt continue to be explored for generations to come, revealing much about the extraordinary arrivals all bound by refuge.