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We were living in the country area of High Barnett in 1940, more bombs dropped on us than the City of London. It was the way home for the German bombers also the additional attraction of the A1 to the Scotland and the railways to Scotland also.

Our house was amongst fields about 50 houses and one night a German bomber dropped 7 bombs on us, 4 houses completely destroyed and the rest severely damaged. With my brother and my grandmother, we were in the Anderson shelter, my parents were indoors and the bomb blew off the door of our shelter and the windows of the house, the curtains disintegrated and my parents and grandfather were to be seen under the table with their bottoms sticking out!

My father went to help as there were people buried in the wrecks and we were told to go back to sleep, which we did. The following morning it was decided we should go to Wales and take our neighbour and her two boys. First we visited a reception centre for breakfast and clothing, if necessary, and we stayed there until my father decided what had to be done. One of the bombs had not gone off, so it was decided we should go to Wales and take our neighbour and boys (they had already been bombed out from London). We eventually got a train from Paddington, we had drink and some biscuits with us. We stopped many times on the journey, once in a cutting to shelter from an enemy fighter who was strafing the line. Two ladies in the carriage who were with us, one named Nell (from Old Drury — actually from Drury Lane). Eventually we arrived at our valley destination, the station was deserted and all the gates locked, it was gone midnight. Eventually someone came with keys, the bridge was locked, but he suggested we cross the line on the wooden boards between the rails and climb up the other side to the platform. He shone his lamp for us, unfortunately our neighbour and myself were the vanguard of the line when we heard a train approaching, loaded with coal from the colliery. The porter turned and shone his light on to the oncoming train, plunging us into darkness, and our neighbour and I not yet across, staggered off the boards and onto the main line itself. My mother and grandmother pulled and I pushed our neighbour up onto the platform, I was somewhat hampered because I had my new mackintosh on, I had wanted a cape, like Princess Margaret Rose. I had turned my sleeves inside the coat to make a ‘cape’. Our neighbour and mother got most of me onto the platform before the train came thundering through, I was not popular. We walked up through the village, no moon, across the canal bridge and back alongside the canal. Our neighbour had wandered unknowingly towards the water, my mother warned her away and she started to sob ‘not water too — not water too!’

We eventually reached my aunt’s house via a narrow, uphill, track naturally she hadn’t received the telegram but found us all beds somewhere. I sang for a while for the sheer joy of being back in Wales I think my neighbour’s sons could have murdered me!

Eventually accommodation was found for all of us with old friends and relations. After a few weeks, our neighbour had to return to Barnett to take up a scholarship at the boys grammar school for her eldest son. We stayed on and both went to school in Wales before returning to Barnett the following Spring (1941).

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