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The mobile gun
My father Enrnie Moore.
During the war was a on esenchal works order. His job repareing bomb damage. mainly bricklayering.He was olso on duty. As a A.R.P dispatch rider guiding convoyes.Their main task ,was taking injured to. Places like Fullford Hall.On the south side of Birmingham.
The night, were interested in. The mobile gun that was station at Swanhurst park. Was parked,by our cross roads. He was give it, what for.Putting up the flack.
Us kids, Olive my sister and myself.
Were under the stairs.
Dad said it was"the safe'ist place" .when they were bombing.
Mom Tucked herself ,in behind us.
BAM-BAM, PING- PING the scapnal rained down once again.
Dad was standing at the lobby door.
BAM BAM- PING PING the scrapnal bounce of the concrete road.
The door, does a merry dance in its frame.
OOH,WA! We all jump .
Mom to dad "YOUR NOT GOING OUT OF THIS HOUSE TO NIGHT"
We don't no, if my dad was afriad of her. Or Hitler. But he never left the house that night.

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