大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by Lis Toft and has been added to the website on behalf of Eileen Shepherd with her permission and she fully understands the site鈥檚 terms and conditions.

It was the evening of the 14th of November and I was 9 years old. I had gone with my mother to visit a friend about 5 miles from home. This was the night of the Coventry Blitz. My father was in the NFS (National Fire Service). He drove the NFS vehicle and that night he went out with a crew of six.

The following morning my father appeared at my friend鈥檚 house. His uniform was normally a navy blue colour, but this morning it looked red 鈥� this was because it was soaked with blood. My father鈥檚 crew had been hit by shrapnel. He had tried to protect their wounded bodies by lying across them, but unfortunately he was the only one who survived that night. Luckily, although bombs had dropped all around, our house was all right.

Because the blast had given me so much shock, my mother arranged for me to be evacuated to my uncle鈥檚 farm at Lauton in Oxfordshire. My two younger brothers and baby sister stayed at home, but I did not mind because I had cousins to play with. I had six happy months on the farm where I especially enjoyed feeding the lambs.

One Christmas Eve when I was back at home, I went to the grocers for 2lbs of apples. The queue was dreadfully long and before I could be served the shop closed for lunch. Finally, after four hours queuing, I was able to go home with the apples! My father had been worried about me and was very annoyed I was so late. He said, 鈥淕o to Mrs Nix and tell your mother you are all right.鈥� I went to walk in the front room, but my father yelled, 鈥淕et out!鈥� My Christmas present, a piano had just been delivered, and I was supposed not to see it until Christmas morning! At Christmas, I would normally get a sock with an apple, an orange and some nuts inside.

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