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As a very young child, in a village near Chelmsford, my recollections of the war is imperfect, but vivid. My father had dug an air raid shelter in the garden, but a near miss by a land-mine (bomb dropped by parachute) caused the shelter to flood. We then used the shelter of a family who lived across the road, (the Dawsons). Chelmsford was an important industrial centre in those days. Several (I believe seven) Marconi factories, and Hoffman's ball-bearing works, and it's proximity to the East coast, made it a prime target for the Luftwaffe. I remember going across the road at night during air-raids to the 'Dawson's shelter, and seating with the door open, watching the flares drop over Chelmsford, and thinking how pretty they were. I remember, with envy, my older brother and his friends dashing off on their bikes to crashed aircraft, sometimes to arrive before the 'ÃÛÑ¿´«Ã½-guard', and filch souvenirs. I also remember I broke my leg badly, and whilst propped up in a chair outside the house, watching what seemed like an dozens of enemy aircraft heading for London(?). I was told later that it was part of the first very large (1000 bomber(?) raid. The first bomber shot down over Britain crashed in Chelmsford. Later in the war, we had two Scottish soldiers billeted in our house. They brought home what seemed like a huge pile of chocolate and put it on the table, and told us it was ours. The next day they were gone. One was called Dougie. My mother later told me they were parachutists, and that they had both been killed at Arnhem. One soldier billeted with us returned after the war, and remained friends with my parents for many years. American soldiers with tanks were based near-by, probably in preparation for the invasion, and a person in a car was killed when in collision with one of the tanks, but the kindness shown by the Americans, with chewing gum and sweets for the kids stuck in my mind. Early in the war, my mother took me with her when pea-picking, or potato picking, and men came and built shelters of sand bags in case the German fighters attacked us. As a child I had no idea of what the war meant, but it was a collection of memories, such as my mother dancing round the kitchen singing " we'll hang out the washing on the Siegfried line" when D-Day came.

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