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This story was submitted to the site by the ´óÏó´«Ã½'s Peoples War Team in the East Midlands with Keith Walters permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions."

As a child in West Bridgford we had a holiday at home week. We had entertainment and went to a circus there.

At school once a week we had an exercise where we had to go into the air raid shelter.

In Nottingham we had a blitz and a bomb was dropped a couple of hundred yards from where we lived – I slept through it all.

My dad was a policeman – in a reserved occupation. He suffered from a heart complaint so wouldn’t have been in the army anyway. My mum as a policeman’s wife had a knitting club meeting once a week. They knitted scarves and balaclavas.

Once when the sirens went I was sat with my friend in the cinema at a Saturday matinee. Not one of us moved as we wanted to watch the film. When we walked back home there wasn’t a soul to be seen on the streets.

Everyday we had to walk with our gas masks. It was difficult walking back out with the blackouts. All the bus windows were also painted.

One of my uncles served in the Middle East and another was in the Navy on the submarines. Listening to the radio one day I can remember the names of one of the singers. Her name was Betty Driver and she’s still in Coronation Street.

Nearly all my school teachers were female as all the men were at war.

One night my Dad got me out of bed about 11 o’clock and took me for a walk to Trent Bridge. We stood there for an hour looking at the lorries. It was 5th June 1944. Preparations for D-day. I think they were all yankee paratroops.

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