大象传媒

This story has been contributed to the People's War by the 大象传媒 Learning Centre, Gloucester, on behalf of Gillian Harris with her permission.

I was nine when war broke out and we were living in Brockworth opposite the Gloster Aircraft Company works. Both sets of my grandparents lived in London and my father decided to go and see them which meant that very fortunately we missed the worst air raid of the war in our area when the GAC, which churned out Hurricanes and Spitfires, was attacked.

Oil bombs were dropped on GAC鈥檚 car park and also on Hucclecote, and other bombs landed in the fields behind Brockworth Church.

My father, being a small man, dug a small air raid shelter at the bottom of the garden. There was a shelf for my sister and me to sleep on and my parents slept underneath. A cousin of my father鈥檚 slept with his feet in the entrance as he was the tallest! How I longed to stay in my warm bed when the siren went, instead of going into that damp, dark hole.

Later in the war my friend and I rather took to a couple of Italian prisoners of war who were given freedom in the village They were camped near the church. We met them and they used to sing us arias and brought us wonderful cakes. The American convoys also used to drop us very welcome sweets as we were waiting for the school bus.

My paternal grandfather who lived to be 101 had a very lucky escape when an unexploded bomb landed on his gatepost. Well, his surname WAS Luck!

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