大象传媒

Looking back, even though, as we get older, our memories begin to fade, some things stand out ie. air raids, blackout, stirrup pumps, incendiary bombs, taking refuge under the stairs, or the coal hole, which it was in Manchester, where I was born and went through the war, apart from the evacuation, which I will come to.

My father, who hadn鈥檛 been called up because of his age, liked to go down to the local but, of course, during the blackout, found it difficult to find his way home especially after a few pints of Chester鈥檚 Mild 鈥� so a pal of his, 鈥淥ld Blind Joe鈥�, as we called him, a tall blind man, white stick obviously, and wearing a bowler hat, used to call for him and bring Dad home. We used to hear them outside the front door Joe saying, 鈥渨here鈥檚 your key Bob鈥�?

The blackout didn鈥檛 bother 鈥渙ld Joe鈥�, with him it was perpetual darkness.

Then of course, the Anderson Shelter, in the back garden, damp, smelling of candle wax, sleeping, or trying to, listening for the dreaded sound of the aircraft after the electrical works, behind our house.

Another memory was of heavy droning of planes and my dad looking out of the Anderson Shelter and saying, 鈥渄on鈥檛 worry, they鈥檙e over鈥�, and the next thing such a bang, and all the houses in Bank Street behind us had gone. My dad was never much at aircraft spotting 鈥� it certainly shook him up next morning when he went to work through Philips Park and saw the devastation caused by the bombs.

Then of course the evacuation. I had two brothers, one five years older than me and one two years younger. We were sent to a place called Clitheroe, Lancs., in the countryside. Away from the city. My older bother went to a terraced house by the railway and my younger brother and I went to a large house where, to our delight as 鈥渢ownies鈥�, they had an orchard with Russet apples which we really went to town on and a white horse called Polly. On our arrival, the beds or mattresses were ordered and we slept on these on the floor eating with the servants. The time spent there is rather vague but we moved to a town house, which was near the local slaughter house where much of our time was spent. This was all new to us, cattle, sheep; I had never realised that tripe could be cooked until I got married years later and my mother-in-law said. 鈥淲ould you like tripe and onions鈥�? I thought she was joking. We had always eaten it with salt, pepper and plenty of vinegar.

The memory of those times seems to have gone because by 1944 I started work at the age of 14 having to go to night school until I was 17 then joined the Royal Navy.

This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War Site by Anastasia Travers a volunteer with WM CSV Actiondesk on behalf of Ken Sumner and has been added to the site with her permission. Ken Sumner fully understands the site鈥檚 Terms And Conditions

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