大象传媒

During the War the brewery owners allowed the local people to take shelter in their cellars, which were deep under ground. These were also positioned underneath the huge tanks that held the water used for the brewing.
One night the sirens went off and a neighbour knocked on our door to ask if we were going into the shelters. My dad, whenever he was at home,kept us at home during raids. His philosophy was that we all stayed together as a family and if anything happened we would still be together. So we always ended up under the stairs, together. We were brought up as Roman Catholics and during these frightening bombing raids we would always pray. This particular night the "all clear" went and we emerged from under the stairs, threw open the front door as if to rejoice in our being saved,as everybody did after a raid. People were walking down the street soaking wet. My dad asked if it was raining in their part of town, the reply was,it hadn't. One lady told us that there had been a direct hit on the brewery and the bomb had hit the water tanks,flooding the cellars. A number of people had been killed, some of them drowned. This lady wasn't being disrespectful when she said "I wish i'd taken my bloody umbrella!" She was just copeing with the horror of it all.

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