大象传媒

The first bit of my story is about the day war broke out, Many readers will remember that was the catchphrase of the comedian Rob Wilson, 'The Day War Broke Out.' Well, everone panicked because we thought the bombs were going to rain down on us. We were living in Wembley in Middlesex and we had an aunt, my father's sister, who lived in Luton in Bedfordshire which in those days was relatively safe from air attacks. She had a friend with a car, so she and he came rushing up to our house in Wembley and picked up my mother, my elderly grandmother, my sister and me, and we all piled into this little tiny car. There were 6 of us in all, so a full car, but obviously my sister and I were each sitting on someone else's lap. We had a dog but we couldn't get him in the car so we left the poor thing behind. My father was a postman and he was on duty. It was a Sunday and the joint was in the oven roasting and nobody thought about that - it was left behind - and nobody thought to leave a note for my poor father! The next day was Monday which was washing day, so there was a pile of washing, but Hitler wasn't going to stop washing day, so that was also piled into the car, in a laundry basket. Then off we hared to Luton. The air raid wardens were all along the street telling us, "Take cover! Take cover!" The driver wouldn't stop though, as he wanted to get away from London as fast as he could. "Get out of my way!" he would shout. Eventually we arrived at my aunt's house where we stayed but I can't remember for how long. I know I was 5 at the time and due to start school. There were actually no bombs as it was a false alarm, but everyone just panicked. Eventually my father - I have no idea how because none of us had phones - found out where we were, and he came to Luton with the dog. I don't know what happened to the roast! But luckily the house didn't burn down! I remember the mad panic and lots of people reacting wildly.

We had a power station near us in Wembley and also the Bakerloo underground line, and then up above a big steep bank was the line of the old London-Midland-Scotttish railway. During the war, they had an anti-aircraft gun on a carriage which used to go up and down frequently, shooting down the enemy aircraft. I remember one night my sister and I were up in bed and we were saying, "Ooh, isn't it wonderful? Ooh look! Look, fireworks!" We were making such a noise that my mother came up and she said, "What is it?" "It's fireworks!", we said. "No, it isn't," she said. "That's gunfire. Come on quickly, into the shelter." We had no idea, and even my sister who was 7 and a couple of years older that I was, didn't realise. We used to go into the shelter next door. I often used to fall asleep in my bed and then in the morning I'd wake up in the shelter and not remember at all being carried in there. We were back home in Wembley by then and we shared the garden shelter with the people next door. Our house actually had a reinforced room because my mother was an invalid. She suffered from tuberculosis, so they reinforced one room downstairs, and there were 5 bunkbeds, one for each member of the family. One day a flying bomb, or doodlebug as we called them, landed on the railway line at the end of our garden but luckily we had time to get into the shelter because we heard the engine cut out. We just got into the shelter room in time and all the dust was blowing down, but we were all OK. The rescue services were obviously plotting the route of this flying bomb because as soon as we got outside the house, everyone was there - fire brigade, ARPs, police - all ready to help. I remember I picked up my favourite doll - I was about 9 at the time - and the first person I saw when I went out of the front door was a boy from my class at school, so I quickly hid the doll as I thought he would think I was a little baby!

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