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I was born five days after war was declared. My earliest memories are of being pushed under the dining table or into the cupboard under the stairs when the sound of the airaid siren had given way to the throb of German bombers. Sometimes I was carried into the Anderson shelter at night, wrapped in a blanket, but we soon abandoned this damp and smelly dugout. In day time, mum made us safe, but carried on cooking saying she would hear the bomb coming. One day we all returned (father was in aircraft design at Hawkers) to find the doors blown wide open by a bomb blast and cracked walls, but not a pane of glass had smashed. Houses nearby had not fared so well, with broken windows, tiles stripped from the roofs, but no casualties.Walking my brother to school, (4 years older than me), we twice had to dive into the gutter as doodle bugs flew at not much more than tree hight across our path. My brother thought it all a great adventure, and wore a glengarry with the East Surrey regiment badge. Food was plain and not plentiful, but somehow mother managed. Luckily we all came through OK.

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