大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People's War Site by Durham Clayport Library on behalf of June Lumley and has been added with her permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.
My younger sister and I were walking home from church on Sunday morning when the first ever air-raid siren sounded, the next thing we knew was some ladies came dashing out of their houses grabbed hold of us and pulled us indoors, such were the days when we looked out for each other. I remember our meals consisted of Spam which we called pink lint and dried egg, if we were lucky we might have chips, a pan full cooked in one nut of lard. It brings to mind the times we spent in the school air-raid shelter with those vile gas masks, I can never forget the smell both from the rubber of the masks and the dank smell of the shelter. I am 76 years old now and can still see in my mind one teacher we had with us in the shelter, the tears rolled down her face as she sang Vera Lynn鈥檚 song 鈥淚 haven鈥檛 said thanks for that lovely weekend, the two days of heaven that we had to spend.鈥� We found out later that she had word that her fianc茅 had been killed. To this day my eyes fill with tears when I think about those War years and I was only 10 years old at the time yet didn鈥檛 suffer anything like some poor children. So we that remember have a lot to be thankful for and must never forget those who laid down their lives for us.

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