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Not every child was evacuated. My parents were determined that we'd stay together at our London home in Iverson Road, West Hampstead. "We all die together!" they said. I remember watching children being evacuated, though -- I was perhaps 13 at the time -- there were hundreds of people on the platforms, with suitcases and gasmasks, children crying, parents crying. I was happy, though -- I simply didn't understand the dangers!

But staying behind had its consequences. The air raids kept coming, night after night. We thought we'd be safest under the stairs -- but that could have been a big mistake! Many other people ran to the London Underground. You'd hear the planes coming over. One incendiary bomb (they were about the size of a magazine, rolled up) came down and just missed our neighbours' house. My father went to it as it lay there in the garden -- my father simply got the lid of a bin, and put it over the bomb, covering it with soil!

THIS STORY HAS BEEN ADDED BY JOHN YOUNG OF ÃÛÑ¿´«Ã½ SOUTH EAST TODAY ON BEHALF OF REG MOORE AND WITH HIS PERMISSION. MR MOORE UNDERSTANDS THE SITE'S TERMS AND CONDITIONS.

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