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War was declared to my family in St Helens, Lancashire when Eunice Gerrard the 11yr old daughter of a neighbour burst into our back yard to tell us there was a war on! My Father, William Lyon (Billy) who was a carpenter by trade immediately made wooden shutters for all our windows

As a child in 1939 I recall the scene in our living, room; when the wireless was on, Big Ben booming down the seconds - a deadly silence — a focused hush. The posh heavy rolling voice speaking to the nation, to us. My father was keen to get to the war desparate to get his call up papers. My mother often said through gritted teeth that she would kill any German soldiers that came to St Helens, to our road, to our house with her bare hands if need be. My father was 31, my mother 29. The grand parents and family recalled the First World War and predicted this would be worse. They dug big holes in the back yards for the corrugated iron Andersen shelters, when we went into ours, it was just the women and kids who went in, the men stayed in the house under the stairs.

All my uncles were in the army by the time Billy got called up. Uncle Leo had survived Dunkirk and been sent to North Africa, Uncle Joe had been waved off in a slouch hat bound for West Africa and Burma, and Uncle James was in a German prison of war camp, nobody was sure where the other three uncles were. They all survived but came back as strangers and at least one of their families was wrecked by the personal upheaval.

Billy’s long awaited call up papers eventually arrived to his obvious delight and he went to war early one black and rainy morning probably November 1941 or 1942. He was very jolly as he left but my mother was in tears.

He did basic training in Preston barracks and came home a couple of times on 24 or 48hr passes, he did the 60 mile round trip by bike. After that we didn’t see him for a very long time. He was in the Second Army and was being trained for the invasion of Nazi occupied Europe.

On June 6th 1944 at school assembly everybody whose father was in the forces was told to put their hands up that was almost half of us, we were then marched off to St Andrews church. A very kindly vicar told us we had to join him in a service of prayer for the safety victory and deliverance of our fathers who he told us had landed that morning on the beaches of Normandy in France and who were engaged in mortal but just combat as he spoke. So we did and then got back to school in time for morning milk.

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