ÃÛÑ¿´«Ã½

One morning the siren went as we got up and as time went on nothing happened so people got a bit brave and they came out to do what they’d normally be doing. We lived in a square and we just got round the corner and all of sudden man shouted Duck. A German plane came over ever so low. They reckon he got past barrage balloons and everything, and he went right down to the docks and crashed on the railway tracks. That was quite a morning. They reckon somehow the pilot managed to get through the guns but was too low to pull the plane up again. He’d obviously tried to bail out as his parachute was hanging there.

We always had the same routine of an evening, we’d be ready to go to the shelter. My father had a attaché case, brown leather with all the particulars in. That was put inside the door with a basket and flask. It was an anderson shelter. It was quite cosy. We had heating and light, and bunks. I was about 8 and we used to take books and paper for drawing

© Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.