大象传媒

I was nearly eleven years old when war started. I didn't know what war was but for some reason I was really frightened at the thought of it. By September 1939 we'd moved to Cholton on Medlock in Manchester and me dad used to work in a big warehouse in town- he was deaf in one ear so couldnt go in the army. One night there'd been a massive raid in town so the next night he decided the germans wouldnt bomb the same place on two consecutive nights so he took us to this big warehouse- I dont know whether he was allowed to - but he did. He wanted us to be safe and thought it would be safer for us in the city centre rather than in Medlock. But he was wrong- they bombed the centre again that night. I vaguely remember him coming down this corridor to open these big fire doors to let us out of the warehouse and his face was like a sheet. He'd been trying to protect us and now it had all gone wrong. Fortunately we got out safely. Outside a lot of buildings were on fire- debris was falling everywhere and there were firemen staggering about (me dad told us later that some of these firemen were drunk having attended a fire at a brewery- me dad swore that was the case- I don't know) It took us half an hour to walk home and luckily we got home safely.
The daft thing was in those days people used to sit around a gas stove with the oven door open to keep you warm- and they used to do this even while bombs were dropping without realising the danger!

This story was submitted to the Peoples War site by Rupert Creed for GMR Action Desk on behalf of Josephine Oates and with her permission. The author is aware of the site's terms and conditions

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