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This story has been added to the website by Eleanor Fell on behalf of Ronald Jones, who had given his permission to add his story to the website and understand the terms and conditions.

When the war started I was 3 I lived near the Grenadier Pub in Hangleton, Brighton.

I was an only child and when the war started my father, William Jones, who was a carpenter and a shop fitter, volunteered to go into the Hove Fire Brigade service which was based in Hove Street. I remember that he was out a lot, and hardly ever at home. It was just me and my mum.

I can remember that Christmas they used to have these really good parties at the Fire Brigade Station and all the firemen would make toys for us — I remember I had a big model double decker bus, and you could wind the numbers round at the front. My dad would take me down to the station sometimes and let me sit in the fire engine and let me ring the bell - all my friends at school were really jealous!

A bit later in 1943, when I had started at the Knoll School, I remember one particular day when I was walking to school and I heard a plane coming over, I looked up and I could see a German plane coming over, it was so low that I could see the pilot in the cockpit. I didn’t move I just stood there, stock stile, watching it the plane. Luckily a lady ran out of her house and dragged me indoors! I had to stay in her house for a while and then I went onto school, and had something to tell everyone at school.

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