- Contributed by听
- shropshirelibraries
- People in story:听
- Jocelyn Taylor
- Location of story:听
- Liverpool
- Background to story:听
- Civilian
- Article ID:听
- A4516436
- Contributed on:听
- 22 July 2005
I was 6 when war broke out. My father was called up, in the Royal Artillery, and my mother later worked in an aircraft factory in Speke.
My grandparents looked after us, and we lived very near the docks in Huskisson Street then in Knotty Ash for the rest of the war.
During 1940-41 the war intensified and I spent the first months living in Huskisson Street near the docks with Mum and Alan. As we lived in the basement of this 4 storey house and our bedrooms were on the top floor, it was a long way down to the 'shelter' we had prepared in the dank cellar. When the siren went, we ran downstairs, sat on chairs and waited for the 'All Clear' to sound. One evening I heard an explosion and ran down stairs as the siren started. Apparently, that bomb, in Liverpool city centre, badly injured my cousin Maisie, who was saved by a sailor who heard it coming, threw her down and covered her with his body - being killed as a result. Soon after,we all went out to the suburbs to my grandparents.
Although I had been sent for safety to Dovecot, it was while I was there that we were hit by a bomb. Pilots on the way back to Germany often jettisoned any remaining bombs, and the house and shelter next door had a direct hit, killing several people. Grandma, Grandpa and I were in the pantry under the stairs. It was a terrifying experience to hear the scream of the bomb descending towards us - the door blew in, hurting Grandma - and all the windows, part of the roof and the walls caved in. Soon after, the All Clear sounded and dawn came. I walked round the house in a daze - broken glass and plaster everywhere.
I'll never forget Dick, the canary, was singing his heart out, althought his cage was upside down on the floor amid the wreckage.
I was sent off for a few hours later, to get myself back to Huskisson Sreet, collecting pieces of hot, twisted shrapnel on the way. My mother couldn't believe it had really happened when her 8 year old turned up alone, having negotiated 2 tram cars and 8 or 9 miles of city, after a bomb fell. Children are amazingly resilient creatures!
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