大象传媒

This story has been submitted by Alison Tebbutt, Derby CSV Action Desk on behalf of Geoff Broady. The author has given his permission and understands the site's terms and conditions

The Second World War meant that Winston Churchill was our Prime Minister. He promised blood, sweat and tears. For me it meant bloodshed, helmets, Fire-wardens, dugouts, shelters and sirens. It destroyed my illusions of permanence forever. It brought death, hunger, disease, starvation, tears, fatigue, anguish, destruction of cities-especially parts of Manchester, Trafford Park and Liverpool. It brought fear everyday the Nazi bombers came. We felt the death of organised religion. It brought equality of struggle for women and men together. We had the Land Army for girls and the Home Guard for men who were not called up. We had to rethink what we believed and guess what? We believed in each other desperately, seriously, and lovingly.

The war meant cold porridge, when gas pipes were smashed or gas tanks were bombed. There were blacked out windows, Kids losing their parents and some being evacuated to safer areas. Bikes showed only a glimmer or a walk through the fog with no lights. I got what I could with ration cards. We would queue for hours after a night shift for a tin of Lyles golden syrup. Morning light would drive the bombers back to Deutschland.

The war meant trying to sleep during the daytime when on a nightshift at Metropolitan Vickers making guns, search lights, generators and barrage balloons. It meant our secret service had to suss out German Gestapo agents.

Yes, the war meant many things. It meant a nation of togetherness, not a selfish nation of celeb chasers like today!

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