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We had an Anderson Shelter that my dad built in the garden. To build it, you had first to dig a pit. I helped with that, using the coal shovel to dig with. Then you erected the shelter with curved panels that were bolted together at the top. Finally you put the soil and turf back on the top of the shelter. Now, our garden, and those of two of our neighbours were so arranged that when the shelters were built, there were three shelters all within a few yards of each other, so that we could all easily call out to each other to check if everyone was all right. They were Frank and Madge鈥檚 next door to us, and Mr and Mrs Kelsey鈥檚 just round the corner

During the war I actually lived near Barkers鈥� Butts, Coundon (Coventry), it鈥檚 the Rugby Football ground. Up the hill, that is Barker鈥檚 Butts Hill, just round the corner is Scots Lane on your right, and I lived at 22 Scots Lane. Next door were Madge and Frank, who was a very deaf gentleman, and across the road, in Christchurch Road, opposite to them lived Mr. and Mrs. Garrett. They were elderly and they came from Scotland. I don鈥檛 know what he did for work, but they used to come and sit in our shelter. I was quite good at singing and recitation, as we called it then, and they were awfully good, they could tell you stories and sing Scots songs so we were very entertained. Father had got the shelter all set out inside. Inside the door, on the right, was a form and then there were two deck chairs and on the left hand side were two bunks, one up, and one down. Ronald (my brother) was on the down one, and I was on the up one. (When we fought we were the other way round). After a while on the form Mr and Mrs Garrett then came into the deck chairs and did 鈥渟wapsies鈥� with my parents, they took turns because sitting on the form for a long time was uncomfortable. But although the bombs were quite close to us the only thing that worried mother, and she used to say 鈥淥h my, Oh my God, Ern, that was close. They鈥檙e getting nearer, they鈥檙e getting nearer鈥�, because next-door to Mrs. Kelsey鈥檚, up Scots Lane, (and it鈥檚 still there, I鈥檝e got a photograph of it) is the 鈥渞eservoy鈥� (we didn鈥檛 say reservoir in those days we said reservoy) full of water. It was an up, not a downer, and of course if the Germans had bombed that, we would have drowned. We wouldn鈥檛 have got out quick enough. No one would, in the street and that鈥檚 why mother kept saying, 鈥淭hey鈥檙e getting closer!鈥�

But down in Christchurch Road, and down into Poole Road, and a bit further on, just into Radford, that鈥檚 where the Daimler Works were. We used to have daylight raids, obviously, and one day all the men were out, standing at the gate because it was just five to twelve, so they could dash up to the gate then, to go home for lunch. That鈥檚 when Jerry bombed the Daimler, but he didn鈥檛 kill any of the men, they were all at the gate and the gate man opened the gate (it wasn鈥檛 twelve o鈥檆lock), he opened the gate and they all rushed down into Radford and home, so they didn鈥檛 get killed that day, which was absolutely good.

But when my father was away it was a bit frightening because my mother wasn鈥檛 even as good as we children were about the raids starting. One night my father had been away and he came back and he said he would go down to see his mother and Dad to see if they were alright, (that was down in Sussex Road, also not far from the Barker鈥檚 Butts rugby ground); so it would be a mile and a half or two miles away, through the streets he had to go. And a raid started. This was a big raid; it started with a stick of bombs straight down. Nine bombs dropped, and on the ninth he was back in our door from his father鈥檚 and mother鈥檚 home, he ran all the way, and it was totally uphill. He had to run up Malvern Road, cross the Holyhead Road, up into the road opposite, then it would be turn left and up, turn right and up, run right along by the Cedars Pub, straight across, it was still uphill, to us. That was the night of the big raid. November the ninth, or whatever it was, I forget, but it was the November raid. After all, I was only about seven or eight. My mother had just bathed Ronald in a big bowl we used to have, because you couldn鈥檛 use a lot of water (water was conserved as well for fighting the fires) and he was in the front room, not upstairs, but he was in the front room in the bed, and I was getting washed in this bowl, head to foot, hair washed as well. Father had built the back door with an extra door, to enclose the area by the toilet door and the coalhouse door, which he put across the body of it; and that extra door he thought would help. It blew that straight back, 鈥渨hump鈥� went the door. It blew the back door open, and my mother said 鈥淓rn, what are you doing, what are you doing鈥� but it wasn鈥檛 him, it was the bombs. They came down dum, dum, dum, goodness knows where they dropped, they didn鈥檛 drop very far away, probably towards the Daimler which is what they were trying to get, that or the Alvis, because over where Grandma lived was the Alvis.

Suddenly, then, my father did appear and he came in, you will never see such a rush - he threw a towel round me, yanked Ron out of bed (well he was out of bed himself) and we just picked up what we knew we had to take and we all had our jobs but I couldn鈥檛 do mine because I was wrapped in a towel. We fled down to the shelter, Mr. and Mrs. Garrett came across, and everybody in the gardens, Mrs. Kelsey, Mr. Kelsey, Frank and Madge and their two children, Pauline and Marlene, who was a babe, down in their shelters like steam. But then they kept popping up in between the bombs dropping; to get things they had forgotten. We had a goldfish bowl (as kids did in those days, they won it at the fair, two goldfish in a bowl, you had to have), and Mother, this night, put the plug in the sink, put the water in the sink, and tipped the fish in.

Next morning, whenever it got light, we could see the whole of Coventry was on fire. We had such a horrendous night, but we were alright, we weren鈥檛 bombed, not close to the houses, but just down the road where the school was, I suppose that would be half a mile, perhaps three quarters of a mile, but not as long as a mile. So we were relatively all right. That night we must have had some bombs quite close because all the kitchen ceiling was in little bits like jigsaw all down on the floor. Our parents were very busy making a pathway through there but the biggest job was to get the two fish out of the sink because the ceiling was in the sink with the fish and Mother was fishing them out.

So my brother said to me 鈥淐ome on our kid鈥� (in Coventry everybody was 鈥淥ur kid鈥�), and up the road we went to a little island that was there, where there鈥檚 the Cedars Pub. Then five roads go off, the one goes down Barker鈥檚 Butts Hill, but on the corner opposite to the Cedars Pub was Mr. Hoyle鈥檚 chemist鈥檚. They had chickens in a pen, quite a lot of them, and a cat and they were all slapped straight up the fence with the blast, so they had had a bomb somewhere behind the Cedars and they were literally 鈥淐hug chug chug鈥�, chickens all up the fence and the cat was as well. We never turned a hair. We just got round into Barker鈥檚 Butts Hill and they had got dead bodies there, they were bringing out of the house, I don鈥檛 know how they got killed because there didn鈥檛 seem to be a bomb hole (bomb blast I suppose), but anyway, they were bringing them out and we went down the hill. At the bottom a land mine had dropped, so probably it was the land mine blast that killed somebody. We knew it was a dead body, when they are dead and lying on a stretcher they look dead; even to children they look dead. But that was it, straight down the hill was a big crater and my brother says to me 鈥淕et down there, go and get that shrapnel鈥� and he pushes me down this darn great crater. It was a wide pavement on the corner of Three Spires Avenue there in front of the wine shop. It had just gone, and it was this hole. So I鈥檓 struggling up, trying to get out of this hole. 鈥淒on鈥檛 drop the shrapnel鈥� says my brother 鈥淐ome on鈥� he says, 鈥淐ome on鈥� and he didn鈥檛 even say 鈥淚鈥檒l carry the shrapnel鈥�. It was a piece (indicates piece the size of her large handbag) it was a different shape but it was not so high, but about that long, and I鈥檓 struggling with this - no wonder I鈥檓 such a tough kid, and I was always in the hospital. Always ill, I was.

Up home we got, finally. Chaos going on, but it was organised. They鈥檇 got tea going on the primus; they鈥檇 got things to eat. Mr. and Mrs. Garrett were sorted, they were still with us, then they went home, and Madge and the children and old Frank, and Mr. and Mrs. Kelsey next door were all right. So that was it.

But then, a few days later, of course, we had to go to the town. The centre of Coventry was a little bit flat. We could climb up, and it was fun. Children, you know, really ought to have been terrified because what we knew as Broadgate was sort of heaps, it was bricks, it was chunks and things. Where Owen Owen had been, where the Hotel Leofric is now was a deep hole. But they鈥檇 put sturdy pieces of thick plank down, well I think they were made of wood or they were metal, but they鈥檇 done it ever so quickly before they let people into Broadgate. I went up there with Mother, we were walking up Trinity Street from where the Coundon bus would have dropped us by the Hippodrome, walking up Trinity Street by where was Owen Owen鈥檚 and I remember my mother distinctly saying 鈥淥h my God, what a terrible smell鈥�. But under Owen Owen鈥檚 I think that was where there was a shelter, an air raid shelter, I think there must have been the dead bodies.

But the people of Coventry got over these things like that and we just carried on.

But around and about, all around us, Bridgeman Road, that鈥檚 just by the Daimler, funnily enough, that was all gone, my uncle never went back to their house because it was slightly unsafe, but it was a beautiful house. On the Common there is what is Coventry Climax now that was all bombed there, Foleshill was bombed. It was total devastation. How they managed to clear it so quickly I don鈥檛 know.

Later on they took us as a special journey, not a treat, a special journey; we went down into town to look at the cathedral. It wasn鈥檛 the day the King and Queen were there, I don鈥檛 think my father was home then, but it was another day and we went to see our cathedral that was so devastated. All the rubble was still there, and we saw it, and the burned cross was there. I remember that vividly, because I didn鈥檛 think that this Hitler guy ought to bomb churches.

This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by Joe Taylor for the CSV Action Desk at 大象传媒 Hereford and Worcester on behalf of Sylvia Fairbrother and has been added to the site with her permission. The author fully understands the site鈥檚 terms and conditions.

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