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This story was submitted to the People’s War site by Bramley History Society and has been added to the website on behalf of Peggy Degerlund with her permission and she fully understands the site’s terms and conditions.

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I was 14 years old when war was declared in 1939, still at school in Battersea and as my parents were unwilling for me to be evacuated with my school, found myself looking for employment. At first the war seemed unreal apart from a solitary air raid warning just after the declaration, all was quiet. My brother had been conscripted into the navy and many of my friends were, likewise in one of the services. We had all been allocated air raid shelters of varying kinds, and my parents opted for a Morrison Shelter which was similar to a large wire cage with a reinforced top and was erected in our sitting room. We slept in it every night. During the ensuing years we had several near misses from the bombing once the raids started. On more than one occasion, because of broken windows and doors we went to live with my grandmother and there we slept underneath some shops in the cellar area. London was then being bombed continuously, day and night. Towards the end of the war in 1944 when we thought things could not get much worse, the Germans launched the V1 and V2 rockets — Doodlebugs. These were flying bombs, pilot less with flames coming from the rear. They were launched from the coast of France and made a loud roaring noise. Once the noise stopped when the engine cut out all was quiet for some seconds but then it landed causing death and destruction. So it happened one early morning our house was destroyed in one of the explosions. It was an end of terrace and the bomb fell in the garden. The whole house collapsed on top of us. My father had just left the shelter to get ready for work. Fortunately he got into a cupboard under the stairs which saved his life. We were dug out of the debris and had only what we stood up in. There were many people to help us, neighbours and friends provided us with clothes and somewhere to live until we were able to cope. There was a wonderful spirit amongst the people, with everyone helping each other. I can remember many days searching through the rubble of our home trying to find anything that would still be useful. They were desperate times, but how thankful we all were when we heard the final ‘all clear’.

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