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My ‘Grand’ dad lived at Formby (a). We lived in St Helens (b).
To get from ‘b’ to’a’ meant a trip through Liverpool.

Dad joined the RN early in the war and every time he got leave- I was taken to ‘a’ to see relations.
After one night of heavy bombing, dad took me on a journey, which I will NEVER forget.
We went by train to Lime Street to find holes in the station roof where ‘bombs’ or ‘shells’ had landed. Outside the station, we saw a fire engine in a bomb crater.
‘Lewis’s’ on fire and ‘Blacklers’ gone.
We trudged along to Exchange Station and started for Formby. Soon the train was halted because the line was damaged by bombs. Jumping on a tram we had a hot journey as the timber yards at the side of the tram track was blazing — we could feel the heat twenty yards away.
When we cleared the dock area trains were running on to Southport and Formby was untouched — except for ships on the sandbanks. People were told by numerous signs not to go onto the beach —that was an army training area- and all over the beach were hundreds of posts of wood stuck vertically in the sand. They were supposed to prevent landing planes or light boats?

How ever, try telling children about danger — or forbid something — and the ‘adventure’ spirit is aroused. Odd we went exploring — cousins and self- to collect spent ammunition on the tide line. Spent bullets and unexploded ‘shells of small guns’ of aeroplane origin, soon filled our pockets! On later trespassing expeditions to the beach we found flotsam of boxed oranges and various tins minus labels of foodstuffs.
Today on looking back at our expeditions we were really mad — goodness knows if landmines had been scattered around the area.

As we returned home, the museum was badly damaged- many buildings hit- roads blocked off for safety- fire engines everywhere. It was exciting to a 10 —11 yr old but also frightening.

Other memories — screams at night, meant grabbing blankets and pillows and marching off to shelter in local schools for the night. The next day we spent collecting shrapnel from shells or bombs that were fired or dropped overnight. We had tins filled with jagged pieces of metal. In the dark, we watched search lights — seeking enemy aircraft. Sometimes we saw ‘dog fights’ when our planes met German bombers in the daylight.

Along the A570 road, which had only been completed in time for the war, there were rows of army tanks being prepared for the eventual invasion. Living not far from Burtonwood U.S. Airbase meant excitement as the bombers flew in or out on various bombing raids.

Sweets and Chocolate (and bananas) were rarely available.

We learned the art of queuing for everything.

We carried our gas masks where ever we went and made sure that all our homes were blacked out.
Eventually each home received an ‘Anderson Shelter’ to erect in the garden — digging for half the depth of the shelter — and using what was excavated to cover the shelter. Those who were able managed to organise bunk beds. These shelters came rather late in the War, which had transferred to different areas of the World.

My war souvenirs were a partly burned incendiary bomb — a hand grenade (minus explosives)- and several live shells fired over the Mersey estuary.

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