大象传媒

When the bombings got really bad we lost our back door two nights on the run. It had been blown off its hinges by a bomb blast from a bomb that had landed within a mile of our house.

My mother got really tired of this and we went over to stay for a little while with her Aunt and Uncle in Wallasey. I had a bed up two armchairs pushed together, and my Uncle used to be an ARP warden and went out each night patrolling the neighbourhood.

I was fascinated by his bald head - I was about 4 years old at the time. His head was a perfectly round bald patch with hair growing round the edges. I asked him how he'd acquired this bald head and he told me that one night on his rounds a perfectly round piece of shrapnel fell on his head and burnt off all his hair as it was very hot.

I believed that story for years.

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