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One teacher we disliked was ‘bombed out’ which meant her house was bombed. My father was in the First Aid and Rescue Service and he dug her out, as she had a broken wrist she was away from school for a few weeks.

The girl I sat next to was bombed out three times. You looked to see who was missing in the morning from school. As there were two people in the house to look after me, my mother had to work (that is the Government insisted everyone had to help with the war effort) and my grandmother looked after me. Fortunately, my mother had experience in working in a shop otherwise she would have gone to work in an ammunitions factory. She took the place of a young man who went to the air force.

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