大象传媒

The Unexpected screech of the siren made me jump. A lone German Pilot had been approaching the South Coast. Bewildered by the declaration of war made by Mr.Chamberlain only minutes before, I ran about the house, flapping. What were we supposed to do?

The third of September 1939. It was eleven o'clock on a Sunday morning and my father continued to concentrate on his chin. He was having his usual leisurely shave and saw no reason to adjust his priorities. He'd served in WW1. He was adapperman and would go over the top well-groomed.

It was different for me. I had been born just five years after the armistice of the war to end wars, and had quivered for many a night under the bedclothes as my grandmother painted fearsome pictures of the cruelties performed by the armed forces of our enemy, the Hun. We had to act.

Gas. hat was the first thing to be taken care of. What did the govwernment leaflet say? blankets well-soaked and hung over all the doorways. That would keep the fumes out.Why did I think that a lone German Pilot carried gas rather than bombs? I could only act according to my memories of Granny's tales and announcements on the wireless. We had been issued with our personal gas masks in their cardboard boxes, threaded with a piece of string to hang it from the shoulder, and there was the Anderson shelter. So we were akright really.

Shortly afterwards the all-clear sounded. It had been a mistake. Well, not the declaration of war. That was genuine alright but the plane was a friendly one.

We never did wear the gasmasks. Well, mine was later replaced by a much grander version, issued by the Royal Navy. We Wrens often raced to the Air Raid Shelter with our gasmasks, weraing stout boots, steel helmets and not forgetting the essential lipstick.

My young Brother, Ian, used his gasmask box tomake a wiireless receiver with fuse wire and the cardboard from the centre of a toilet roll. It was the start of his career as an electronic engineer in the RAF, and with Marconi.

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