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One day, I was with my Gran in her house in Field Street when we heard a German bomber going over North Street. There was a screaming noise; that was the bomb — a firebomb full of old engine oil. They were trying to bomb Bicester North Railway Station but they missed the station and the bomb landed on nearby allotments. It went straight into a chap’s cabbage patch, which was burning and smothered with oil.

I remember the day war broke out. My Gran lived in Field Street; we were at number 15 and she was opposite The Plough pub. I was in her kitchen and the radio was on. Gran wore a white apron when she was working in the house and when the news came through she put it over her head and cried. I didn’t understanding why at the time, but she was remembering her husband and sons in the First World War.

We had a chopping block in our back yard and, during the blitz, you could stand on that and see the glow from London burning.

Gran had a serviceman lodger during the war. He was from Bicester Aerodrome, where they were building Lancaster or Halifax bombers.

The Duchess of Kent came to Bicester in about 1941. I was an apprentice at Layton’s garage at that time. The snow was so heavy that snow-chains had to be put on her car. The boss warned me not to bang the side of the car as she was in it!

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