大象传媒

[This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by Margaret Collinge of Leicestershire Library Services on behalf of Mrs M Roberts, and has been added to the site with her permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.]

During the War I, at nine years old, lived with my three older sisters in an old farm house near Blaby in Leicestershire. It was my uncle's house and he, as my mother's brother, was the father figure in our family. My father was unable to return to this country from Africa, where he worked, for the whole of the war years.

Whenever there was an air raid the siren would be loud and clear from the top of the County Arms public house at the end of our road. We were to shelter in the old boiler house underneath the farm house. I can remember clearly that my mother insisted that we each wore a metal silver tureen cover over our heads to get from the door of the house, in the front yard and then down the steps into the cellar. As the yard was full of lorries with their drivers, I have often thought how amused they must have been at the sight of 'the girls' going to the shelter.

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