- Contributed byÌý
- Isle_Of_Man
- People in story:Ìý
- Lesley Jean
- Location of story:Ìý
- Wallasey, Liverpool
- Background to story:Ìý
- Civilian
- Article ID:Ìý
- A4850219
- Contributed on:Ìý
- 07 August 2005
When the bombings got really bad we lost our back door two nights on the run. It had been blown off its hinges by a bomb blast from a bomb that had landed within a mile of our house.
My mother got really tired of this and we went over to stay for a little while with her Aunt and Uncle in Wallasey. I had a bed up two armchairs pushed together, and my Uncle used to be an ARP warden and went out each night patrolling the neighbourhood.
I was fascinated by his bald head - I was about 4 years old at the time. His head was a perfectly round bald patch with hair growing round the edges. I asked him how he'd acquired this bald head and he told me that one night on his rounds a perfectly round piece of shrapnel fell on his head and burnt off all his hair as it was very hot.
I believed that story for years.
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