大象传媒

We lived in Sheldon, Birmingham, during the war, although my Dad, Alfred Rudhall, was away for much of the time in the Fleet Air Arm and there was just Mum (Hilda), myself (Anne) and my older brother David.

I can clearly remember the air raid shelters. First there was the Morrison shelter which was like a huge iron trunk. Mum had decided to have it set up in our front room downstairs and it was made up as an enormous bed. Needless to say it took up most of the room. When the siren sounded we all dashed downstairs into the shelter where we slept. It was dark and claustrophobic and my mother told me I was frequently sick when we were in there!

We soon had a brick built shelter at the bottom of the garden, which we shared with our neighbours. As the nights became disturbed more frequently during the blitz we were put to bed in the shelter, and mum and Miggins (our neighbour) used to sit knitting by candlelight. There were 4 children sleeping in the shelter, in small bunk beds that our fathers had made before going away.

Mum always said it was cold and damp in there and I remember Miggins took her savings with her to the shelter for safety. She left all the 拢1 and 10/- notes hidden in an envelope under a bunk, but often the shelter flooded in wet weather, and one night all the notes were got soaked. Next day they were pegged out to dry on a line across her living room!

My Grandmother, Nan, had an Anderson shelter in her garden in Perry Barr, which she carefully camouflaged with soil and flowers. It was lovely in there as she had made it look like a little house inside.
I was glad that David and I were not evacuated, when the other children in our street left. I can remember Miggin鈥檚 daughter standing with her suitcase, while I clutched Mum鈥檚 hand tightly glad to be staying home.

My other grandmother, Gran, lived in Ferryside, a small village in Carmarthenshire, so we went to stay with her for quite a long time each year. We travelled by train, from Birmingham to Cardiff, then changed trains to go on to Ferryside. The journey was long and the carriages were always crowded. I often wonder how my mum coped with my brother and I, two small children and our single suitcase, plus a thermos flask and sandwiches for the long journey.

To see a photograph of us all setting out to do that journey in reverse during summer 1941, see 'Waiting at the station', bbc.co.uk/dna/ww2/A8262876

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