大象传媒

My first alert of the bomb raid came when the sirens sounded and it seemed that their wail came from all directions. My mother, sister and I huddled beneath our wooden table, which sat below the window of our kitchen, and my mother was saying her rosary. My grandmother and my two maiden aunties were seated in our coalhole which was under our staircase. Everything was in darkness and gradually the roar of planes was heard overhead drowning-out the screech of the sirens. My mother had placed a bucket of drinking-water at the side of the fireplace for fear that there would be a shortage of water when the 鈥渁ll-clear鈥� was sounded. When the lights came on again, after the 鈥渁ll-clear鈥� had been given, the water was black with soot from the chimney as a large slate had dislodged and fallen into the bucket. My sister and I were crying. All at once we heard the sound of voices outside as people tried to find out if everyone was safe. My uncle, who was an A.R.P. warden, came up to see if we were safe and to tell us that Brookfield Mill was on fire. He asked if he could bring my young cousins up to stay the night as they lived beside the Mill in Brookfield Street. We were lucky, as our street had escaped any damage.

Next morning was a different story, however, with everyone out and about anxious to see what damage had been done. People seemed to be going about in a daze and each of them had their own stories to tell. Some people had lost family members, others had no homes to go back to and then there were the very unfortunate who had lost both family and home.

My mother decided we had to leave for our own safety and, looking back, I can now see her point. As a widow with two children to consider, one aged six years and myself, aged four, plus my eighty-four year old grandmother, she felt she did not have a choice. We had relations at a place called Sion Mills, Co. Tyrone who were willing to give us shelter until something more permanent could be sorted out for us.
We arrived at The Great Northern Railway where hundreds of people were hopefully trying to find trains which would take them to their destinations. The only place we could find on our train was the luggage carriage which was most uncomfortable for my grandmother. My sister and I thought all this was a great adventure.

When we arrived at Sion Mills station we were met by our friends who were glad to see us safe and sound. We had a good meal and then as children had to get to bed which happened to be an attic,
to get there you had to climb up a ladder. Everything was so strange to us for the first few days. Then we found lodgings with a Mr Gallaher who was a widower and had plenty of room for us. Mr Gallaher had chickens, a large garden with trees so we had plenty to keep us amused.
Sadly in the month of May my grandmother died suddenly, my mother said she died of a broken heart because she missed her home in Belfast. We then had to return to Belfast to begin our lives all over again.

Our house was just as we left it (30, Chatham Street, Crumlin Road) I think it was glad to see us all back home again.

The war went on and so did life everything was rationed.

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