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I was only seven when the war ended, and my most vivid memory is of a doodlebug hitting our town, Westerham in Kent. It’s only about three miles south of Biggin Hill Airfield, and the rocket was probably aimed there. You could hear doodlebugs coming, you could hear their engines. And if you heard the engines stop, you knew you were in trouble.

Mind you, I don’t remember hearing anything on this particular Sunday morning. I was at the other end of town, getting the newspaper. There was a massive explosion, and I ran out of the paper shop and saw a massive cloud of smoke over the town. I panicked and ran home as fast as I could.

We had two anti-blast blocks in our back yard — these were designed to cushion the blow from any bomb-blasts. When I got home I found that they had both been blown over. I opened the back door. The ceiling had come down, the windows had all been blown in. The rocket had come down only a few hundred yards from the back of our house.

Thankfully I found my older sister Kath and younger brother Ray sitting under the kitchen table. And there was Mum, just sweeping up around them!

This story was submitted to the People's War site by Steve Gothard on behalf of Alf Martin, and has been added to the site with his permission. Alf fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

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