大象传媒

'The Germans are here!' screamed my Mother, as I lay in bed, aged four.Dad was out fire watching (he was too old to be on Active Service, and I knew he'd been in the trenches in WWI, whatever that meant).Mum, my sister Joyce and I dressed hurriedly and in panic. We went downstairs to meet the enemy. What did we find? A barrage balloon had come down on out doorstep!
At nine years old I was waiting eagerly for my birthday party , when, two days before this was due to happen, disaster struck. We'd been living in the shelter (never going to school)when a crate of incendiary bombs unloaded it's contents all along our street. Three bombs fell on our house and did much damage. Dad and sister went indoors and threw burning furniture out of the window. I was hysterical, demanding that my Mother recite the Lord's Prayer, and most of my clothes and toys were burnt. The Air Raid Wardens told us to go to the Rest Centre - good for us we didn't, as that had had a direct hit as well.The stables behind our house were alight, and the horses were crying out in pain and fear.
In the Blitz my Grandparents and Dad's sister were killed when they had a direct hit in Chelsea.Six weeks later, Dad's brother Reginald was killed by a direct hit at his place of work. I can remember all the adults crying all the time, and Dad having to go and identify body parts of his nearest and dearest.My Mum always believed this was the cause of his premature death at the age of 52. After the death of Uncle Reginald his wife lost contact with everybody, and that included her own children.They had two girls and a boy, who had been evacuated to Cornwall. The boy joined the Navy, the older girl, who had been very close to my sister, changed her name and was then adopted by her carers in Cornwall. Mary,the other daughter, was my age and I pleaded with my parents to take her in. They refused. Years later, when she was of working age, her mother claimed her back. We never saw our cousins again - a very very sad time.
It was agreed, after seeing my doctor, that I would go to Ely, Cambridgeshire, to stay with relatives ( I refused to go at the beginning of the War, and Mother said I was too young. My sister had gone to Ely for six months at the start of the War, and returned after what we called the Phoney War). However, I wouldn't go until I'd had my party - I remember nothing of this event.
In Ely I was put into the bottom class (and left there for the duration of my stay).When the Air Raid warning sounded, the children hid under their desks, but nothing happened.I became jealous and unhappy, as my Aunt seemed to prefer the local children. When my Mum visited, and saw the situation, and that my dress was dirty, she agreed for me to come home.
It seemed in London that hostilities were coming to an end - they had had V1s, and attacks were diminishing. When I returned V2s started and the chaos continued.Whole streets in Fulham were demolished. On my return to school I was years behind all the other pupils, and had to struggle to catch up (18 months later I passed the 11 Plus and went to Grammar School).My final memory is of VE (or was it VJ?) Day. The whole family walked the streets of London in the crowds, waving flags and rattling football rattles outside Buckingham Palace.
For years after the War, I continued to have nightmares. And, if ever I was outside London, my stomach turned over when I heard the Fire alarm, which had been the Air raid Warning.

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