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At the bottom of our yard was a big communal air raid shelter which could accommodate about 50 people with bunks in.
Dad was World War One Veteran and an A.R.P. and would conscientiously don his tin hat and patrol the streets to see if any blackout curtains were not drawn properly. I really did think that if ‘Jerry’ had landed he could fight em single handed. A different kettle of fish to one of our neighbours, who was to be found in the pub as like as not. Sensible man.
I loved many of the war time songs, especially Glen Miller. Some dance nights, my sister would put on pan-cake make-up, on her legs and draw a black mark at the back for a supposed seam.
The G.I.s were much admired, of course their uniforms were probably a lot to do with it.
On the day after Freeman — Hardy and Willis was bombed, everybody went to look at the devastation caused, not being grown up; I just thought it was a blooming big hole.

‘This story was submitted to the People’s War site by Rod Aldwinckle of the CSV Action Desk on behalf of Ruth Burford and has been added to the site with her permission. The author fully understands the site’s terms and conditions.

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