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I lived in a village during the early part of the war. I remember when my daughter was only a toddler, a doodlebug came over. It’s engine stopped over the house. It dropped on houses behind ours, killing a mother and young baby. They had just won a best child competition.

I did night work at the munitions factory at Waltham Abbey for about a year, leaving when I became pregnant.

My husband was in the RAF. He was out in Egypt. I remember one time, when he was at Lytham St Anne’s, I was invited up to spend the weekend there. I went up on the train. It was full of American servicemen. I hadn’t met any before. They were all showing pictures of their friends and wives etc. They were all very friendly.

We had Italian prisoners of war in the field next door to our house, helping on the farm. The children used to share breakfast with them. We had one German p.o.w as well. He used to come down our lane every morning to let the cows out. He was very well educated, and we used to chat.

Looking back, I quite enjoyed it. Everyone was friendly then, not like today.

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