蜜芽传媒

People tend to forget the sheer terror that could overtake the English people during the war. My mother was in her twenties and living in the seaside town of Southend with her family just by an open-air swimming pool. One day, during a bombing raid, water started pouring through the ceiling. A bomb had landed in the swimming pool and sent water cascading through my mother鈥檚 roof. She said she just shook all over from head to toe.

On another occasion when the bombs were to be heard exploding and the planes could be heard droning, she found herself in a theatre queue. She told me how, so very frightened, she turned to the man standing behind her, a complete stranger, and said 鈥淒o you mind if I hold your hand?鈥�. 鈥淥f course you can鈥� came the reply.

Other stories were more amusing. My father for instance was ordered to report for night duty at Southend Airport. The first night he turned up complete with pyjamas. He was told in no uncertain terms they were not required.

Then the tale of luck from my grandmother, who left an air raid shelter to collect her slippers and while she was gone that shelter suffered a direct hit, leaving no survivors.

A sadder story from my uncle who spent years in India and yet said so little about them. Apart from commenting on the excellence of the coffee and a tiger who walked into and mercifully out of their tent one night, he told the following tale. He was out with a patrol when a truck accidently hit and sadly killed a small child. The soldiers were all filled with great sorrow and remorse and tried to make some sort of amends by taking a collection of money and offering it to the parents. The impoverished parents were overwhelmed with gratitude and asked the soldiers to wait a moment. They went back into their home and returned with an even smaller child. The soldiers were asked if they would please kill this child too.

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