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At seven years of age the war had not made any impact on me until one fine Sunday morning. My mother had noticed small white puffs of cloud in the blue of the sky and called out to me to come into the house. I could not understand why she had burst into tears but she began to call out that the war had come. We lived but a few miles from Biggin Hill, a fighter base and the puffs were clearly gun fire and a closer look showed fighter planes. It was very exciting to a small boy.

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