- Contributed by听
- Leeds Libraries
- People in story:听
- Lesley Brewer
- Location of story:听
- Hull
- Background to story:听
- Civilian
- Article ID:听
- A3282545
- Contributed on:听
- 16 November 2004
The war started out when I was about 7 years old. I was living in Hull at the time with my family. My parents split up and there was no where permanent for me to go as my dad was in the Naafi. I was sent off to my relatives for a bit and then packed off to Eden Camp for evacuees near Beverley around 1941. The bombing was very bad in Hull so it was thought safer for us to be in the camp. We were supposed to stay and live in the camp but three or four of us didn't like it and ran away. We trekked to Beverley and got a hay cart to take us to Cottingham near Hull. I ran to my Dad but he was in lodgings and he sent me off to my aunt. My uncle worked at the bakers so it was good for beard treats which helped out with rationing. Hull was good for fish too and the peir was a good place for us kids because when the shipments came in full of peanuts and things like that we could collect any of the bags that burst and keep the food.
The shelter was a couple of streets away from my aunt's house and we had to run down there when the sirens went. I remember coming back once after the all-clear, getting back into the house and then being thrown about as a bomb dropped on Lambert Street School. It blew out all the windows and there was this almighty flash. All the houses had been demolished where it landed.
Hull was bombed a lot and all hell would break out with the machine guns and anti-aircraft guns going all together. One time a group of us kids were hanging around at the base of the anti-aircraft battery which was up a ldder on the peir. We watched as the planes followed the Humber dropping their bombs a German Heinkel was being followed by Hurricanes and Spitfires. We were so caught up in it all we didn't notice the bobby at the bottom who picked us all up one by one and gave us a good ticking off.
My Dad was a cook in the camp near Pocklington which was for the German prisoners of war. I remember getting a lift in the back of an army truck to the camp and being escorted by a sergeant to see my dad. It was a strange to see all those German POW's doing the gardening and things so close to us.
The Americans were near Pocklington too they used a base near there. I remeber them taking off for the bombing raids at Dresden and the sky being black with them all.
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