大象传媒

My mother, aunt and the rest of their family
( mum,dad,granny and two very much younger siblings) lived through the blitz in Liverpool. They were bombed out of two homes.Their first home had an air-raid shelter at the bottom of the garden which was shared by two families. My mother and aunt refused to go in it as the boys from the house next door had TB. They took their chance under the stairs! Their grandmother who was very old and somewhat confused and frightened by the bombing thought she had been captured by Germans ... it turned out to be her dress,tangled in the rose bush by the back door.

Their second home was destroyed when an amunition train which was on the track behind their house took a direct hit.This was one of their favourite war time tales as they were in their house at the time the train exploded.

They recount the tale of my aunt (Joan) who was sitting upstairs on the toilet at the time of the explosion being blown down their flight of stairs and ending up at the bottom with her knickers around her ankles. If this wasn't bad enough it was swiftly followed by the side of their house falling down. Neither she or my mother Vera could move or make a run for safety as they were helpless with laughter. Looking back they realise it was probably hysterical laughter but they still find that image of Joan extremely funny.

The two older girls (Vera and Joan) used to sleep in the deserted air-raid shelters as the rest of the families in their neighbourhood had been evacuated by the council. My grandmother had refused to go because the council would not let her take her pets (a dog, a parrot, two java sparrows and a chicken name Sue-Ellen)The family lived in the bombed out shell of their house until the council relented!

My grandfather drove trams all through the blitz. They had cabs which were open to the elements and the drivers were expected to drive through the blackout. My grandfather was terrified he would run someone over as he could see nothing at all during the night shifts. The stress of this and the pneumonia caught from driving in the elements shortened my grandfathers life considerably.

They have many merry tales to tell of the dances they went to and the troops they met from all over the world. Their favourite tale though was of a Canadian soldier who fell in love with my Aunty Joan...she was a looker! He posted her a fruit cake as a present. This cake was like the crown jewels to them as they had been on rations for many, many months.It was carefully stored away and lusted after until the appropriate occasion to eat it arrived. With anticipation the tin was opened and to everyones horror it was teeming with ants and no cake! They have hated ants with a vengence ever since that day.

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