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My father and mother nee Constance Fyson, parted September 1938 and my mother and I came to live in ‘Mickey Mouse Town’ in Sompting. War broke out the year later, I was running to post a letter to my father when the siren went, the ARP warden yelled at me to turn back but I threw the letter into the box. Some months later a German raider dropped a bomb down the chimney of a bungalow killing the old man and leaving his wife in the rubble. Mother was a good friend of theirs, so she panicked and evacuated me to a remote cottage between Sompting Abbots and Leechpool farm Church Lane Sompting. Titchill farm rented from farmer Phillips of Upton Farm .We thought we were in a safer place, but saw more of the war on the South Downs than we expected.

One morning it must have been a Saturday or school holidays, as I was not at school. Having some baby goats to feed with a bottle, I had reached the top of the hill where the barn was climbed over the wall and went in amongst the ewes and lambs to feed the two goat kids. During the feed I heard a terrific battle going on between our Spitfires and Messerschmits. I flung myself down with the sheep. I was 8 years old. When the battle was over I ventured out and empty jug and bottle in hand, was running for home, with planes still roaring and diving in the distance, when running alongside the hedge, was aware of a plane fast overtaking me on my left.

Thinking it was the enemy about to kill me I looked up and thankfully saw a Spitfire fly past towards Shoreham, the pilot smiled at me as he sped past. I have never forgotten the incident having dived down the side of a small chalkpit off the path, and landed in a clump of stinging nettles, I have often wondered whether that young pilot survived the war, I hope so.

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