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This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by Deena Campbell from WM CSV Actiondesk on behalf of Mr Kenneth Spurrier and has been added to the site with his permission Mr Spurrier fully understands the sites terms and conditions.

We lived at 33 Wrentham Street Balsall Heath. Dad worked in Tipton and came home that evening 19th November 1940 and pleaded with mom to go to somewhere safe away from home as he had had a funny feeling 鈥渢raipsed鈥� all over the place for safety.

Our belongings were put in an allotment barrow and pushed to places such as the Rag Market, Edgbaston Street (we believed its鈥� construction offered good protection albeit half a mile from New Street Station!)

We trudged to the public shelters in Calthorpe Park, Pershore Road 鈥� walking back one early morning on slivers of glass, smashed masonry underfoot whilst being assailed by the smell of escaping gas from some ruptured main somewhere near.

And my mother had had enough - she would not drag teh kids all over the place any more so down we went to our allocated 'strengthened' cellar at Mrs Brown's house 'up the yard' at 2133 Wrentham Street.

We joined the Brown family, My Aunt uncle and Cousin and others at least a dozen in total and despite the gunfire, bomb explosions etc I fell asleep. I was awakened by a terrific explosion and vibrations and was conscious of mom leaning over me whilst I chewed grit and filth. The cellar grating came clattering down the escape shute, fortunately allowing us to see the flames of nearby factories and allaying somewhat the panic that insued.

My Aunt had fainted, Mrs Brown had a heart attck and uncle was saved from spinal injury when the grating hit the back of the chair he was sitting on. Me? - I just chewed grit!

We crawled out of the cellar and found that it was pouring with rain. Uncles front door (the only door to the house) had been ripped from it's frame...reversed and put back in its' frame, with clothes that had been inside the house now on the outside!"

All the houses had lost their roofs and windows etc and mom was aghast that rainwater was swamping her piano which she had polished the previous day. She swore she would never polish again and never did all her remaining days!

Our Air Raid Warden had seen the mine floating down by the light of the local factory fires and flung himself down in Wrentham Street. The explosion picked him up gently placed him down again on the other side of the street. He feared the worst for us and was relieved to see us emerge battered but alive.

The landmine obliterated Ashley Street at the rear of our yard and only luck had made it drift a few feet over Mrs Brown's roof.

Needless to say we took notice of dad's "funny feelings" after that!!

Only my sister and I remain now, with our children, grand children and great grand children who would also not be here but for maybe a gust of wind - who knows?

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