大象传媒

I was nine years old on that bright sunny morning in September when I heard over the wireless that 鈥渨e are now at war with Germany鈥�. I lived in a then small village in Northumberland about five miles north of Newcastle.

I had been playing with a friend a few doors along from where I lived. I remember feeling I must run home as quickly as I could and everything would be alright. My Mam was at the gate looking for me, my Dad was reading from a yellow leaflet. Suddenly this awful wailing noise started. My Father looked up from the leaflet and said 鈥淵es, it鈥檚 the air raid alert鈥�. I felt my stomach churn but my Mam took my hand and said firmly 鈥淲e鈥檒l all go into the shed at the top of the garden. The bombers will never think to bomb a shed!鈥� So Mum, me and the dog, followed by reluctant Dad and grandfather, all sat in the dark in the shed until the 鈥榓ll-clear鈥� went.

Then a taxi came to take me, my cousin and a grandmother who were already in the car, up to the safety of the Lake District. I remember looking at the stern face of my grandmother and at her big walking stick which, on occasions, had given me a poke in the back, and I decided I would stay at home with my family and take my chances!

It had also been decided that it would be kinder to have our cat and dog put to sleep than let them be terrified by the bombs and guns, so next day a van came to take them. The clever cat had disappeared and couldn鈥檛 be located and I threw myself on top of the dog and wouldn鈥檛 let her go. After a lot of yelling on my part, Mam gave in and she stayed. The cat returned the next day after all the fuss was over! They were still with us at the end of hostilities.

We didn鈥檛 have much in the way of bombs but there were long nights spent in our Anderson shelter in the garden while the guns barked out and the bombers droned overhead on their way to bomb the Tyneside shipyards and timberyards. In the morning we would collect bits of shrapnel on our way to school, storing it in our gas-mask cases.

Our school was turned into a first aid post so we went half days for lessons in the Institute Hall. There was great excitement when, one night, a German plane came down nearby and the wounded and dead crew were housed temporarily in the first aid post. I can remember being shocked to see bloodstains on the path.

We didn鈥檛 do badly for food as we kept hens and Dad grew a great variety of vegetables in our large garden and allotment. My grandfather was a bit of a problem though, as he used to make toast when nobody was around and use up all of our butter ration. He also wouldn鈥檛 get into the air-raid shelter and used to wander round the garden during a raid waving his fist at the sky and shouting 鈥淚 was here before Hitler and his bombs!鈥�
My sister was Brown Owl to the village Brownie pack. Our Scout, Guide and Brownie hut had been taken by the Army so we had to hold our meetings in the multi-used Institute Hall, and carry all our equipment with us. When our meeting was over, in the autumn and winter months it was very dark with not a light showing anywhere. My sister tied all her Brownies to a clothes line, those to be dropped off first at the end. So we proceeded with much hilarity from house to house through the village, untying and delivering each Brownie safely to her home.

I remember the importance of the news bulletins on the wireless; often it was very grim, sad and frightening. But I remember the big, strong voice of Winston Churchill and how the atmosphere changed after he had spoken, how the anxiety and despair seemed to lighten and hope and determination to carry on filled hearts with courage and pride.

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