大象传媒

I lived with my parents and two younger brothers at No75, Tolworth Park Road and I have no recollection of the war, as a war, except for one day. That day was Derby Day 1944. Mum and Dad were going to listen to the big race on the wireless.

I was very excited for I was going to my best friend Tony Scrivenor鈥檚 birthday party. He lived next door but one. I wore my best blue frock and blue ribbons and had a present for Tony. I walked out of the back door and up the garden path. There was a noise and the quiet and I remember stopping and looking up. I was between the Anderson shelter and a big wooden tank. BANG. A roaring noise that went on and on and then faded. I was covered with dust and flat on my face. The present was gone.

I walked back to the house. I don鈥檛 remember how I felt. The wall was there and I climbed over the door and rubble and went into the dining room. My family were just coming out of the Morrison shelter. Mum shouted, 鈥淚t鈥檚 Margaret, she鈥檚 here and alive.鈥� I was, without a scratch. I remember walking through our house, half gone and out to the front. The houses on the other side of the road were still there but the road had gone. It was full of bricks and rubble and wooden doors and window frames and glass. It was misty with dust. I stood and looked. I saw an A.R.P. warden鈥檚 green helmet, and a cat, dusty black, was picking its way over the chaos. There was a black, ruined, dolly pram upside down. It could have been mine. And a hand sticking out of the bomb damage. I could draw the scene in detail today.

My father came out with two suitcases followed by my mother and the boys. 鈥淐ome on everyone we鈥檒l go to the bus stop and catch the bus and go to uncle Percy鈥檚.鈥�

The bomb had fallen on the house next door but one.

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