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In May 1941, I was 5 years old and my brother was 1 year old. We lived in Dingle, Liverpool, not far from the oil jetty. My father had a road haulage business named C Duff.
I can remember my parents talking about a radio warning from ‘Lord haw haw’, warning people that the next night German bombers were going to bomb the Dingle Oil Terminal and the Liverpool Docks.
My two elderly Grandmothers were living with us at the time, so my father decided that before the bombing started he would take us all out into the countryside in a lorry to a safer place for the night. There were 4 adults and 2 young children.
We all managed to squeeze into the cab of the lorry and we were driven out through Garston, Speke and out towards Widens. WE slept the night in the lorry. We could hear the heavy bombing in the distance.
Early the next morning we drove back through Garston. There was smoking rubble and bombed buildings.
As we drove along St. Mary’s Road, Garston, a policeman walked into the road and waved us down. There were dozens of people on the pavement, mainly women, children and elderly people. They had all been bombed out of their homes during the night.
The policeman asked my father if he could take them to a church hall that was being used as a refuge centre; I think it was in the Park Road area.
There must have been about 30 people, some with babies all sitting on the back of the lorry.
They were all delivered safely to their place of refuge.
When we finally got home, the house was still standing, but all the windows had been blown out. A bomb had dropped in a nearby street killing a complete family.

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