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I was a school girl from 1943 in Harrow. We would drop everything at school when the siren went and move to a tunnel built under the school field. Sometimes we took our lunch plates. We sat on wood slatted benches. I must have been difficult for the staff but we thought it was fun. On the way home, about 1 mile, we would run into the shops if the warning went off. Our parents must have been terrified. At home we went under the stairs. My grandparents home in Neasden near Wembley was blasted by a doodle bug bomb. My grandfather was sitting by double glass doors and although speared by glass remarkably survived. I remember seeing their house and being shocked by the damage, the roof was gone! We lived near Northholt R.A.F. Airport and at night I could see the lights of the planes fighting in the sky "Dogfights" they were called. My father was in Italy. As a tailor he ran a factory making uniforms in Naples. He would send tangerines back home. I would listen for the sound of his boots coming down the road when he was due home. He had a wonderful click in his step - so I always knew when it was him.

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