大象传媒

It was 1942. My young daughter had just come out of hospital after 6 weeks in an isoltion ward. We were in the dining room as it was early evening, when the sirens went again. I didn't go into the shelter because Valerie wasn't up to it, so instead we lay flat in the hall. We could hear the bombing getting closer.

Valerie was under me, and my sister was behind me. I didn't know where my father was. Planes were dive-bombing, and suddenly, a huge blast came through the hall from the back door. I could feel it over the top of me. When the dust settled, I called to my sister and she was ok. I crawled to the front of the hall, and saw a black shape. "Father, is that you?" A voice from the bottom of the stairs called, "I'm here, is everyone allright?" The black shape was the remains of the blackout curtain!

The front door had been blown away, and the back was hanging by its hinges. The window in the dining room was also blown away, but luckily everyone was safe. After that, whenever bombs were dropping we went in the shelter. I never saw my big glass front door again!

p.s. after that, we put a flimsy board over the door, but no one ever broke in when we went to bed. You wouldn't dare do that now, but back then things like that didn't happen.

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