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I was six years old when war broke out I didn't really understand the meaning of war but remember being woken up that first night by the sound of air raid sirens, while at the same time not being really aware of what this noise meant I knew it was something terrifying. My mother ushered my sister and I down to the air raid shelter which I know now was called an Anderson Shelter, my father at the time was working nights so there was only my younger sister aged 2 and my elder sister who was 18 and my brother who was l7.

That was the start of the six year war in which I was to grow up in. While the raids themselves were terrifying, as a child growing up you sort of got used to them and every night my younger sister and I would be put to bed down in the Anderson Shelter which I remember smelt very damp,there we would remain until the All-Clear sounded. Although we lived in an area where bombing was intense we were very lucky in that we did't lose our home.
Although I do recall very vividly being rushed out of the air raid shelter put into coats and hurrying down the road with bombs dropping all around, to a church hall for comparitive safety as a land mine was thought to have been dropped on the school opposite our house. We were away from home with our parents for about three days, friends from other parts of Handsworth asked us to stay with them, until it was safe to return home, people were like that in those days.

School at the start of the war was postponed for about 12 months as many children were evacuated, we did not go as my father wanted us all to remain together, on reflection I am so glad he did. After about 12 months we returned to school together with our gas masks in little boxes and our lives carried on as we thought normally.

My brother at 17 volunteered for the Air Force and was a Wireless Operator Air Gunner I can remember when he came home on leave in about 1942 with his sergeants stripes, my father was so proud though fearful for him. I will never forget the day after going to a Brownie days out (yes we stilled carried on going to Brownies etc) and walking into my home to see my mother in tears and being told by my older sister that my brother had been killed. I pretended I didn't understand, but I did really I just didn't want it to be true. It was a terrible time his Lancaster Bomber has got back as far as Exeter and he baled out but wasnt high enough, all who baled out were killed and the plane crashed killing the pilot.

My mother did't really every get over it,it took the rest of the war for her to seem anything like she used to be and I believe that was only because my father said they had two more children to bring up - after that she always said we were sent for a purpose.

The years rolled by and and by 1945 things looked a lot brighter Peace was announced in May 1945 and what a great party we had in the road. Ice Cream appeared from where, is a mystery. Jellies and fruit and cream which we hadnt seen for years appeared also bonfires were lit as a 12 year I thought it was wonderful My parents did't celebrate the end of the war in May,they felt they couldnt having lost their only son, but they did a bit of celebrating when the war in Japan ended in August 1945.

That then is a shortened form of my story not too awful when you think of what did happen to so many children some of them being my friends.

I just hope my grandchildren and their children will never have to live through any thing like
that again, but in view of what is happening today is this likely??

Barbara Perry
10.11.2003

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