大象传媒

I must have been about 3 when the blitz came. My dad was the chief fire watcher for our two streets, and most of the others were ladies. He would struggle into his greatcoat and balaclave then his tin hat, and in the mean time my mum would be getting my brother and me ready to go into the Anderson shelter. "Bring your eiderdown and don't trail it down the stairs" she would shout to my brother through his bedroom door, as she grabbed me and rolled me into a travelling rug. Then dad would see us into the shelter before disappearing into the night. I hated it, and yet I felt excited to be roused from bed in the middle of the night. I could almost smell my mother's fear. My brother aged 12 would make daft jokes to try and buck her up. I would laugh but she never did. We listened to the drone of the aeroplanes growing louder then the whistle and occasional crump of the bombs. There was also the boom-boom boom-boom of the ack ack. One night my dad arrived in the middle of it all and fetched mum outside to empty the ashes from the bin onto various fires which were all over the garden and on top of the shelter. Gradually the throbbing drone of the aeroplanes would die away, and after some time the all clear would sound. Sometimes we went back into the house, but most times we stayed put till my dad turned up. I must have slept but mum never did. He was often ages and had to take all the ladies home. One night when it was very bad, we went into the house and everything was covered in soot. I always remember best the smells, soot and paraffin from the lanterns, and the damp of the shelter.Later I was to get pneumonia after having to go in there with measles.

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