John Warman

My family were slaughtererers and cow keepers since the early 1800s in the East End of London. My fathers main business was horse slaughter but also kept a cowshed, milking 14 cows for our dairy in Cable Street.

As a small boy during the war I was often sent to stay in the country during heavy bombing raids, staying with Knackeryard owners, that how came to get involved in the knacker business

After the war at the age of twelve I often had to lead a bunch of horses from the railway station to my fathers Slaughterhouse, the most harrowing thing was leading a bunch from the Elephant & Castle coming over Tower Bridge, it was very frightening especially if half way across the bridge the bell rang for the bridge to open, how I never got pushed over the side by the horses I will never know.

In 1944 when the doodle bugs started bombing London my father got a call one morning to attend a stable with 8 injured horses, he took me with him in the horse ambulance and when we arrived at the stables the firemen had put the fire out but the horses were still trapped inside, the loft had collapsed in on the stalls and the horses could not move, I believe they all had broken backs and in terrible pain. The horses would not have been any good for butchers meat my father had to put them out of their pain and leave them to be collected by Harrison & Barber or Smith & Spalding the two big London knackeryards. My father was such a big man he could not get through the hole in the wall and it could not be made any larger for fear of collapsing at the age of eight I was sent through the hole with a bell gun to shoot the furthest horse first and the rest on the way back, that day I was those horses best friend. As a knackerman I have seen some dreadful things that have happened to animals but those eight horses I will always remember.