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This is part of my unpublished Autobiography
Below is a story which I told to my grand daughters. It is loosely based on my memories of visits to my Grandmother during WWII. I went by bus on my own and stayed the night with her….. and the fact that during an air raid in North Watford, Grandma was thrown out of bed by the blast of a bomb. And, indeed, she did get right back into bed and slept, only to discover the next morning that her front door had been blown in…
A Visit to Granny’s Granny

“Are you very old, Granny?” Olivia and Sarah looked worried. ‘Yes I am, I was born seventy years ago”. I paused, as Sarah and Olivia’s mouths dropped open in wonder at such a large number. They both looked worried. “But” I added quickly, “I hope that I will live much longer”. They both looked happier! “Tell me about when you were a little girl,” said Olivia. “Did you visit your Granny just like we visit you?” “Yes, I did, every week”, I said “and I always had a lovely time.”
“Tell us about it”, Olivia and Sarah chorused, “Please, Please, Granny.”
“Well my Grandma (I called my Granny ‘Grandma’ and not ‘Granny’ like you call me) lived quite a long way away. My Mummy had no car because it was wartime. Then cars were only allowed to be used for emergencies so we always had to go on the ‘bus”. “Was it a big bus?” asked Sarah. “Yes it was a big, green double decker — that’s a bus with an upstairs, you know — and we had to go on two of them and walk quite a long way too. I’ll tell you about one particular visit”.
“One Saturday, when I was about eight years old my mummy said ‘Ann, would you like to go and stay for the night at your Grandma’s?’” “By myself?” I asked. “Yes, I will put you on the second bus in Watford and I’ll give you the right fare for you to give to the conductor and she will tell you where to get off. You know the way from the bus to Grandma’s house very well, don’t you?”
“I felt very grown up and responsible. My Mummy trusted me to be sensible. Just like your Mummy expects you to be,” I said to Olivia. “She too told me not to talk to strangers and not to dawdle but to go straight to Grandma’s house and only to cross the road at the special crossing.
I was very excited and got ready for my journey. I polished my leather school satchel and packed my nightie, my favourite Scottie dog toy, my toothbrush, a clean pair of knickers and my purse with the bus fare in it. As she had promised, my Mummy put me on the bus in Watford and she asked the conductor to put me off at the stop near to Woolworths which was opposite to my Grandma’s road.”
“The conductor rang the bell twice and the bus moved off. I smiled and waved to Mummy. I pretended very hard not to be at all worried but, really, I was a bit scared. I wondered what would happen to me if the conductor forgot me. Luckily, she didn’t forget and shouted out ‘Ann, this is your stop, careful as you go, duckie!” I crossed the road at the crossing as Mummy had told me.
To get to Grandma’s house I knew that I had to go straight up the road opposite the large Woolworth’s until I got to number 18 on the right hand side.” But on that particular day, I had a problem. There was a big barrier fencing off an enormous hole in the middle of Grandma’s road.”
“’A Jerry bomb fell here last night’ said a nice policeman and he showed me the way round the crater. I ran as fast as I could up the road. The door to Grandma’s house was broken off and was propped against the wall.” “’Grandma, Grandma,’ I shouted ‘Are you all right?’ Grandma came to meet me, she looked a bit pale but said ‘Yes, I’m fine, just a bit shaken. There was an air raid last night but I don’t like those horrid damp air raid shelters so I stayed in my own bed. I thought that if I am going to be killed by a bomb, I’d rather die in my own bed.’ She said bravely. ‘But,’ with a shaky voice, she went on, ‘the bomb shot me up into the air, out of bed and onto the floor. I landed with quite a thump! I wasn’t hurt much so I got back into bed and went to sleep. When I came downstairs this morning I was very surprised to find that I had no front door and all the windows were broken. What a lucky woman I am that the bomb didn’t hurt me.’”
“’What a lucky girl I am,’ I said and gave her a big hug and we settled down to some hot, buttered toast with Marmite. My Grandma always saved her precious butter ration for me.” “I expect you would save your butter ration for me too,” said Olivia quietly, “Yes, I expect that I would,” I said....
END
I would greatly appreciate any factual information regarding bombs dropped in North Watford, Hertfordshire during WWII - dates, precise location, etc.

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