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I was 13 years old when Neville Chamberlain declared that from 11:00am on 3rd September 1939 we were at war with Germany. At that time, even though I knew my Grandmother had three sons who fought in the first war, I didn't understand why she was crying, for me it was the start of an exciting experience.

About a month earlier I'd seen a flight of nine Spitfires fly over our house towards Castle Bromwich. When I had called my Mother to see them she had said she didn't like it very much.

Around this time, I often used to watch a single Spitfire doing what appeared to be aerobatics but my older cousin, who worked at Dunlops, informed me that it was test pilot Alec Henshaw putting the planes through a vigorous testing before they went into active service.

One evening when I was in the garden, I heard a plane flying in very low and looking up, was shocked to see it had iron crosses painted on the wings. I was very scared and ran into the shed as I'd heard about the Germans machine gunning people on the ground and was afraid it would turn back to get me. In hind sight I wonder if it had been captured and was being flown by one of our pilots to Castle Bromwich for examination.

Early in 1940, in the evenings, I used to go upstairs to watch the barrage balloons being raised. These balloons seemed massive to me, at least 12 feet long and tethered to lorries, they encircled the City and were used in an attempt to prevent German planes from flying low so they could see their targets in attacks over Birmingham. Later when I was at work in Aston I saw a barrage balloon that had been tethered in Aston Park shot down in flames, it was almost over my head.

We lived in a house on the outskirts of Birmingham, just across the sports field from Enstone Road where one bomb from the first stick was dropped on Birmingham. It killed a soldier home on leave. In 1941 after a heavy raid my brother and I went down the garden and saw the groundsman in the field collecting incendiary bombs into a bucket.

My brother used to collect shrapnel from the roof of Quadrant Chambers where an Aunt and Uncle were caretakers. This building stood on the junction of New Street and Worcester Street where the Rotunda now stands.

In August 1940, when my Mother and I were visiting, we heard what we recognised as German bomber planes, however my aunt said "Oh no, it's the Midland Red buses pulling up in the Bull Ring". There was a long raid that night so we were sure it hadn't been the buses! In April 1941 this building was demolished in a heavy raid, being hit by high explosive, delayed action and incendiary bombs. The family was only saved because my Aunt and her daughter sheltered that night in the basement of the Odeon Cinema in New Street. My Uncle was on fire watch duty that night and was knocked out by blast. The family were left with nothing but the clothes they wore and had to pick their way along New Street between burning buildings and fireman's hoses to seek refuge at another daughter's home outside the city.

After raids the roads around the centre of town had piles of broken plate glass as much as three feet deep swept against the shops like snow and leaving skeletons of buildings that had been bombed. It was eerie seeing ruins of buildings that had been fully used the evening before.

As dusk fell in the winter of 1940/41, the air raid alert would often signal the start of a 12 -14 hour raid, the all clear not sounding until around dawn the following morning. As my Grandmother was elderly and we didn't have our own shelter my family chose to stay at home during the raids. We all had our bedding in the hall. I slept on apple boxes with my feet on the stairs whilst my grandmother was on the sofa.

On my way to work, going up Victoria Road in Aston, I always stopped to read the casualty list pinned up outside the police station. Sadly the list was often quite long.

I particularly remember going through the remains of the Bull Ring market that Christmas when it was only lit by naphtha flares, the poultry was hanging outside the butchers stalls. The roof was completely gone, also the beautiful large clock with the figures that came out to strike the time every fifteen minutes.

On the week of my 18th birthday, I went to the Recruiting Office in Dale End and signed on the join the WAAF but that's another story

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