大象传媒

I was born in London in January, 1937. My mother and I were evacuated to South Wales in 1940 but returned to our home in 1941.
I went to a local school and came home during the lunch hour.
My parents taught me that if I heard an air raid warning to go to a public shelter or to shelter in someone's porch. I didn't like the idea of sheltering in a stranger's porch and, quite honestly, at that age I didn't understand the danger of being caught in the open.
One day, in the summer of 1944, I was on my way back to school and the air raid siren started. I did run into someone's porch and continued on my way once the all clear was given. When I got back to school, I was amazed to see a long line of people,all dusty and some with bandages going into the school canteen for tea.
My father, who was on night work, learnt from neighbours that my school had been hit and pulling his trousers on over his pyjamas came rushing to the school because he thought that my mother,who worked in the canteen, and I could have been hurt. Now I am a mother and grandmother I can well imagine how he must have felt until he saw we were both all right. The bomb had dropped a few hundred yards from the school on a row of houses.
Subsequently, in later years when I heard the sound of a V1 on documentary programmes etc. I found myself very emotional, sometimes even crying which is a bit over the top for an adult.
Early this year I was in contact via the FriendsReunited web site with an older pupil from my school and mentioned the bomb incident. He told me it wasn't a bomb but a V1 (doodle bug). The reason for my unexplained panic of nearly 60 years was that the engine must have already spluttered to a stop before it passed low over my head.The strange thing is that I heard the sound of one on TV, not so long ago and felt no reaction whatsoever.

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