大象传媒

My first childhood memory, aged 4, in 1940 is of sitting on a bunk in a rather damp cellar under my parents' house, the large vicarage of Holy Trinity church, Darnall, Sheffield. There were a continual series of bangs and thumps as the Luftwaffe pounded the east end of Sheffield, aiming for the large steelworks like Firth Browns, essential to the British war effort. My father began to tell me stories about giants who he said were fighting in the skies above, hurling rocks at each other. I was happy with this explanation, and don't remember feeling frightened. Next day, I went out into the garden and saw my first barrage balloon floating in the sky. This did terrify me,and I ran into the house crying. My father was by then about his parish comforting relatives of those who had been killed and finding lodgings for families who had been "bombed out".

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