大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by Deena Campbell from WM CSV Actiondesk on behalf of Marjorie Stephens and has been added to the site with her permission Marjorie Stephens fully understands the sites terms and conditions.

My first taste of war was the day war was declared. The sirens sounded and my mum was soaking a large towel in cold water she said it was to wrap around next door鈥檚 baby if there was a gas attack.

I was working at Gaskell and Chambers in Dale End for a firm making and firing pins for anti air craft shells earning 拢5 a week or nothing to spend it on a friend. I was walking home one night when the sirens sounded. But we just ignored them, until a very angry warden ordered us into the shelter, where we had to spend the night . We had been sheltering under a garage and the street outside was littered with shrapnel.

We rented a house in the centre of Birmingham and then moved to a lovely old house in Ashton Row. It had been a doctor鈥檚 home and the wine cellars were now shelters.

Steps had been installed into the pavement outside to allow access into the shelters.

One night my dad leaned out of the window listening for the planes, but he fell and landed on the pavement steps. He could not move and a policeman heard him calling 87 Ashted Row. He had broken his collar bone and his only grumble was he had to drink his beer through a straw.

漏 Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.