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With the outbreak of war each household was issued with a shelter. Our first was an Anderson Shelter which Dad with a little ‘help’ from me put up in the garden. We dug a hole about a metre deep and built the shelter within it. On the roof Dad put soil and grass and inside we had three steps down. There were three benches along the walls and at the far end a shelf on which we stored some condensed milk, some tea and I think some tins of processed peas. There were candles, an oil stove and some games. We had each been made a dungaree by our Grandma and on the pocket was embroidered our initial. The idea was that should there be an air raid whilst we were in bed we could put on the dungarees over our pyjamas and make our way to the shelter rather than fuss getting dressed. One evening dressed in my dungarees I stood watching my three year old brother having a bath. As we had no bathroom this was carried out in a tin bath in front of the fire, usually on a Friday night. Suddenly he turned and urinated into the pocket of my dungarees, right above my initial. How awful can you get?
After we had been bombed out and moved to Hollesley in Suffolk we had a Morrison Shelter which was a large steel box that was erected in the front room. By then I had a baby brother who was placed into this object inside an egg shaped gas mask. This he did not like at all and used to scream for hours. I can hardly blame him as I hated wearing my gas mask which smelt of rubber and made me sweat. I was once reprimanded by a policeman for not carrying my gas mask and having my ID card (I could have been a German spy !).

‘This story was submitted to the Peoples War site by Rod Aldwinckle of the CSV Action Desk on behalf of Jim Ellis civilian and has been added to the site with his permission. The author fully understands the sites terms and conditions.’

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