大象传媒

I was 3 yrs old when the war broke out. I can remember only snippets but they are etched in my memory.
We lived in Finchley, North London.
One of them was during an air raid when the doodlebugs were going, we had to sit on the floor in the passage of our house because there were no windows there to shatter. But the scullery door was open and I looked up out of that small window and saw the tail light go out on the doodle bug. Now as young as I was I knew once that went out , it would glide for a while and then come down. I was petrified!!! It glided up the road about 1/4 mile and hit St.Pauls' Church in Long Lane.
Another time during an air raid we were running towards the Anderson shelter at the bottom of our garden and I could see the bomber coming towards us. As a child my instinct was to run the other way but of course it was wrong. My mother was carrying my younger sister and dragging me by the hand towards that terrible bomber!!! We got to the shelter and I don't know where was bombed that night.
We used to go out into the garden in the morning after an air raid and collect the shrapnel.
When I went to school we were told that if we were closer to school than home when the air raid siren went off we must get into school and if closer to home then run back there. I can remember one day being at the school gates when the air raid siren sounded but I ran all the way home.I hated sitting in those shelters doing my lessons , it was horrible
I was evacuated once. I don't know where we went but my mother took us and as we sat in the village hall waiting to be allocated a family, my young sister cried so much that my mother just wouldn't leave us, so we went back to London the very next day!!! I was so relieved!! I had been terrified of being left there but because I was "the big girl" I didn't cry!!!
My father Peter Talor was in the Royal Navy and both his brothers Sonny Taylor and Edward Taylor were in the army fighting in Burma. He had an elder brother Henry James Taylor who died in the first world war. His name is on the wall at Ypres.
My father's father,stepmother and sister were all in prisoner of war camp because they were holidaying in France at the wrong time!! When they got back my grandfather died of malnutritian and his wife died soon afterwards. My dad's sister came back from the camp with only one eye and crippled in the leg. She was in a train with a big red cross on the roof which was bombed!!!
I cana remember the street parties on VE day and VJ Day even though I was only 8 yrs old.Strange thing is I can't remember my Dad coming back from the war at all.
Whenever I watch the Rememberence services or visit Ypres I get very emotional and am so grateful for all those people who gave their lives for me.

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