- Contributed by听
- Bramley History Society
- People in story:听
- Renee Barlow
- Location of story:听
- Hove, Sussex
- Background to story:听
- Civilian
- Article ID:听
- A4455777
- Contributed on:听
- 14 July 2005
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This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by Bramley History Society and has been added to the website on behalf of Renee Barlow with her permission and she fully understands the site鈥檚 terms and conditions.
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At the very start of the war aged 8 I was evacuated from Shepherd鈥檚 Bush to Cowley in Oxfordshire, we were not very happy there as we were definitely not 鈥榩art of the family鈥, for example on a Sunday we got cold custard and the family had cream!
After about six to eight weeks my father came to collect me and took me to live with my grandparents and aunt in Hove, which was far more like living at home. Initially I went to school, St. Peters, very close to the coast, where many of the lessons were taken in the underground shelters because there were several air raids on the power station and gas works.
After about two years the school closed and I was moved to another school, Southern Cross Junior School, further inland. There were too many pupils to be taught all at once, so my old school pupils only had lessons in the mornings, and the existing pupils had theirs in the afternoon.
One afternoon after school I set off from home to visit a friend, about halfway there I heard the sirens begin to wail. I decided to carry on to my friend鈥檚 house rather than return home. As I reached the bottom of the her road at the foot of a hill a German aircraft appeared not much above roof top level coming straight down the street firing his machine guns. I dived into the nearest garden and under the hedge with bullets flying round me. It was all over in a flash. The lady in the house opened her front door and asked if I was alright. I stood up, dusted myself down and replied 鈥淚鈥檓 OK thanks鈥, greatly embarrassed about lying under her hedge and totally forgetting to pick up any bullets as souvenirs.
In the 1990s the underground shelters at the first school, St Peters were rediscovered and partially restored, in May 1998 a fete was held at the school and the shelters opened to the public for a small entry charge. My cousin told me about the event and asked if I would like to go see them. We went to the fete , paid our money, and went down the steps into the shelter. For some reason I could not stand it and just had to get out into the fresh air, I don鈥檛 understand why as nothing ever nasty had happened to me there in my childhood.
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