大象传媒

War Time Memories

My memories of the war started when I was five years of age, we lived about three miles out of Bolton, an industrial town in the North of England. My father worked at DeHavilland making bombs. The worst memories were when the siren went off in the middle of the night and we all had to get up and put our dressing gown and shoes on and walk quickly up the street to the air raid shelter. It was always very cold, every one in the street kept together, the sky was full of smoke and flashing lights from the bombs that where falling around us. The air raid shelter, which was an Anderson shelter and was constructed of corrugated iron, was about one mile away at Booths Foundry. It was very cold and damp inside and we all were too cold and frighted to get to sleep. In the mornings when the all-clear siren rang out we all walked back home, hoping that the bombs had missed our houses.

The food we purchased was rationed bread, butter, meat, sweets everything which was very important for a growing child. I think it was a very sad way to go though my childhood.

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