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I was born on 3rd September 1939 in Yardley, Birmingham. My mother chose to have her confinement at home, being sceptical of the ability of nursing home staff to ensure that she would leave with her own baby: ‘slip-ups’ had been known to occur! My arrival must have been within a few hours at most, of Neville Chamberlain’s announcement that we were ‘At War’. My father was soon away to join the queue for gas masks, including a special design which fully enclosed the baby. These were returned when the child was old enough to wear a juvenile facemask type. This type included a flap valve to release exhaled air which vibrated up and down within view of the wearer, generating initial interest and amusement, whilst giving rescuers a clue as to one’s state of health.

I was one year old when the Battle of Britain was at its peak, so there are no memories of that stage of the war. In any case the daylight raids were mainly in the South East. Later in the autumn of 1940 and throughout the winter of ‘40/’41 the Germans were forced to attack at night when we had no real defence I don’t specifically remember bombs detonating, but was told later that my parents tried to avoid relating ‘explosions’ to ‘danger’. They said that for my benefit and maybe for theirs, they would exclaim “Oooh! Bump!” rather like whistling in the dark. Perhaps the ploy worked because that memory is not there.

A near neighbour’s house was destroyed, but I don’t know the cause, explosive or incendiary, or precisely when. I do remember the sound of air-raid warning sirens, especially the visible and audible expression of relief when the ‘All-Clear’ siren sounded and everyone could relax a little. The sound is still played on radio and TV today and never fails to intrude (causing hairs to rise on the back of the neck!). I also remember the odd sound of aircraft with two engines not fully synchronized in speed. This was known as ‘heterodyning’ and seemed to be more associated with German, rather than British, aircraft. That is the sum of my memory of the conflict in so far as direct action is concerned.

I remember one trip to Broad Street in Birmingham towards the end of the war. There was a Lancaster bomber parked near the Hall of Memory. We queued to climb inside this aircraft, entering by a door near the tail, and moved forward up the sloping fuselage (tail-wheel landing gear then), a struggle for me to clamber over the obstacle, the main wing-spar as I now know it to be. I can’t remember the other aircraft which were there. They must have included at least one Birmingham Spitfire? The Lanc was memorable for the fact that one could go inside it.

This story has been entered by Jenni Waugh, ��ѿ��ý Outreach Officer, on behalf of Eric Branson, who accepts the site’s terms and conditions.

For other stories by Bran, see
German PoWs In & Around Birmingham: bbc.co.uk/dna/ww2/A9002125
The Chicken Expedition: …/A9002251
Strangers In Uniform: …A9002288
Out & About Around Yardley: …/A9002341

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