大象传媒

My story might be a bit unusual in that at the start of the war I was an eight year old boy living in Alexanndria, Egypt. My father was employed at a branch of the British and American Tobacco Company. My father was detailed to supply cigarettes etc. to the forces clubs (a necessary effort apparently)and my 18 year old brothger was to work in Alexandra docks as a communications assistant.
At the start of the war the air raids were carried out by Italian airman who seemed to cause little damage to the town and after the initial fear people used to watch the searchlights and gunfire from their windows or outside their houses, but later the Germans came over aiming at the fleet in the docks and caused much more damage. One night, I think it was in 1943 my father accompanied my brother, as he usually did, they walked to the stop where he was to be picked up by the staff car for his night duty. Shortly after we were woken up by sirens. My mother, sister and I looked out of thefront window and saw the searchlights and gunfire and heard bombs dropping. Our neighbour opposite who was also looking out of her window, suddenly they shouted out there was something coming down in our back garden. So we moved towards the door but there was a terrible explosion from the back of the house and the door slammed into our face preventing us going any further, the whole house and area was filled with dust and a pungent smell of cordite (I think it was). My father and brother still waiting for the staff car saw another parachute coming down and turn to run and the mine explosion threw my father to the ground. He felt as though abrick had hit him in the head. Arriving back at the house they could not see any sign of the house because of the fog of dust. Dad shouted the family has gone! but my brother found the door and found us safe. We all sat in the front room on the dust, glass and debris covered the bed as the other half of the house had collapsed. The all clear sounded and we thought we would lie down till morning. However a short while after, the sirens sounded again. My father said the Germans usually come back again and fire bomb the place, so let us get to a shelter. We hurriedly left for a public shelter which was a mile away.
The next morning we surveyed the damage. The back of the house was rubble. The house behind us had disappeared and a large crater had been created in our back garden into which water was pouring from a broken pipe. Later in the day blood started pouring from my father's ears. He had suffered from concussion. Our house consisted of two stories, and we went upstairs to see how the family had fared. But they had been sleeping in the back of the house and were no more. I will never forget seeing in the front living room a lovely chicken roasted the night before to eat on that day, it was covered in dust as was the rest of the room. They never knew they would not live to eat it.

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