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Our next door neighbour on the farm was fostering evacuees from Liverpool, so I was going to school with these kids. I was about 5 or 6 at the time.

Another memory

On the farmyard, called Kerrow Garrow (means rough quarter land, one day there was a bomber flying very low - just barely above rooftop level. My mother and I were standing in the farm and the plane came roaring across. There was a group of trees near our house and I recall the bomber having to climb to get over the trees and remember them, as a group, sweeping backwards with the draught of the plane and then coming back into place again! This was one of my most vivid memories of the war

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