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This story has been added to the People’s war website by Jenny Burnett on behalf of Sheila Pugsley. Sheila has given her permission and is aware of the site’s terms and conditions.

We were living in Luton which is in a valley. Bombing was only possible in the day time - at night there were smoke-screens which came out of things which looked like letter boxes. A bomber did come over one night though, and dropped a string of incendiary bombs on my road. They missed all the houses but ours. We didn’t have a shelter - Father used to say “if your name’s on it, that’s it�

There were four of us in one bedroom - me and my sisters. I was woken by one of them screaming - a bomb had dropped through the roof. It hadn’t gone off, but there was a small fire near the bedroom door. I can’t remember being frightened. Our clothes and shoes were ready for the next day on the chair. My older brother lifted us over the bomb out of the room. I was more upset about leaving my nice clothes in the wardrobe. We put sand around the bomb and a bucket on top. The firemen took it out later in the night.

After that, we slept under the kitchen table for a few nights. Another brother worked for the RAF ground crew. He came home and kept knocking on the door (the last plane out of Dunkirk had landed) and we wouldn’t let him in at first.

We had Mickey Mouse gas masks and had to take them to school. I thought they were horrible, frightening. When we went down into the shelter, the teachers would give us a sweet. If we were down there for more than an hour, we’d be given another. I forgot my gas mask one day - we were to be inspected but I wouldn’t go back home as I was afraid of being late. In the end I sat in a shop doorway and played truant.

There was a hat factory opposite the school. It had a direct hit and nearly everyone was killed.

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