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This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War Website by Elizabeth Perez of Stockport Libraries on behalf of Stan Prescott and has been added to the site with his permission. He fully understands the site鈥檚 terms and conditions.

I was ten years old when war started. I lived in Blackpool. We took in evacuees from Manchester. By coincidence my cousin was one of a "crocodile" of evacuees, and my Mother picked him out and also his sister, who had been taken by a nearby neighbour. They were from Miles Platting. Their father was unemployed and often drunk, and it was the first time they'd been away from home or to Blackpool. My cousin Joe Simms ran away and joined the Royal Marines when he was only 15.

My Dad was an air raid warden, out most nights. Vickers Factory made spitfires in Blackpool, and was a possible target.

On VE Day there were great street parties. In the terraced streets people brought their pianos and armchairs outside. My Uncle was a pub entertainer, who played the piano accordian, and he joined in the celebrations. We heard on the wireless, war was over and a huge crowd made their way outside the Town Hall near North Pier.

We lived at the Pleasure Beach end of Blackpool. Occasionally my Mum would say to me, "Go down to the maypole, they've got some oranges in", and I would go on my bike and queue up in a long queue for two oranges, then cycle all the way home. If holidaymakers wanted any rock, they had to use their sweet coupons to buy them.

I remember Blackpool prom and beach as always packed out, and knee deep in litter -candy floss and chip papers. The trains arrived every 10/15 minutes with 12/13 coaches, and I used to go along to carry people's bags and usually got paid 1d for this. I was an avid train spotter, I'd buy a platform ticket and monthly train ticket and use the same ones for the whole month. If an inspector came along, I'd hide in the toilets!

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