大象传媒

There was a daytime air raid. The Germans were bombing the airport at Swaythling, which was very close to home.

My sister, brother and I went into the shelter only to discover it was half full of water, so we went into a neighbour's shelter.

My mother was a widow with one recently-married daughter (19), whose husband was in the Army, myself (aged 15), and my brother(five). Mother decided we needed to get away out of the town.

She got a job as a housekeeper with me as general help. We travelled to Worcester and on to Kidderminster, to a large Country house.

He was a retired vicar, and a very unpleasant man. His wife, though, was a lovely lady. They had lived in Kenya for many years and had had lots of servants - and it showed.

He ordered my mother about at all times and my small brother - but not me. We believed that he was going to make a first-class servant/domestic out of me. I was young (and apparently attractive) and that 'fitted the bill'.

After a short time there, my mother had had enough of his ravings and, come hell or high water, she was going home - bombs or no bombs. So we returned home and did have to face the bombing of Southampton.

We spent nights in a double shelter next door. The neighbour was a lovely lady with three children and her husband, and her brother lived over the road with his wife and two children. We all sat and sang a lot of the time, to drown the noise of the planes and bombs. The neighbour would always start the singing, and everyone would join in.

The bombing was horrendous, destroying most of the Town Centre. It was a great relief when the 'all clear' went and we were able to return to our homes. They were fortunately still there, as we lived in Swaythling which was on the outskirts of the town.

One day my mother asked me if I would queue up at the cake shop and try to get some cakes. I think they had a certain amount of cakes on a Saturday morning. I managed to get four or six Devonshire Splits. I thought these cakes were lovely, a real treat, with puff pastry, some sort of cream in the centre, and jam and nuts on top. Delicious! I felt so pleased walking home with them when, suddenly, there were planes and machine-gun fire. I was very frightened and threw myself in the gutter.

When it was all over I picked myself up, and with dismay examined the flattened bag of cakes. I walked home feeling very sorry for myself - our luxury cakes had been squashed, and we'd all been done out of something special. Then I thought that was such a small insignificant thing when, up in the air, there had been so many young men fighting for their very lives.

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