大象传媒

When I was two I was evacuated from Newcastle with my Mother to a farm near Wigton in Northumberland. As soon as we had an Anderson shelter in the garden we came home again. My Father went to North Africa and my Mother, who now had a baby aswell, had to get us into the shelter when the siren sounded. Mr Yellop the ARP warden came to help her. The smell of a parafin heater reminds me of being in the shelter.

We got photographs and letters that my Father had written and once a parcel of combs and Turkish Delight.

After the war when the street lights came on again we walked up and down the West Road every night. It was like seeing the illuminations.

One night I woke up and saw a soldier kissing my mother so I knew Dad had come home.

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