It was december,thursday,around the 13th when my older brother and I went to the heeley picture palace,a Mickey Rooney film when the dreaded notice appeared to the effect the sirens had just sounded and anybody wanting to leave should do so now.
Being lads we couldn't leave and have the girls laughing at us,so there we sat and saw the film through.We pushed our way to the foyer where women and kids were huddled together crying.
"What's up", My brother asked, when for an answer, we heard the scream of a bomb falling.
"Ay Up,"I shouted,"whats that", "It's a bloody bomb,run",We ran for our lives and dived under a parked lorry,my brother,unkown to me hit his head on the chassis and knocked himself out cold.
A great big copper grabbed my legs and pulled me from under,not knowing my brother lay there unconcious.He slung me on his shoulder and planted me on a bench inside the air raid shelter under the railway arches then stood guard on the door.
After a few minutes I managed to get my wits about me and told the copper about my brother,although he was visibly trembling he went outside and brought my brother into the shelter,still out cold.
Later we heard my Grandmothers story where she lay in bed not knowing there was a raid on.She got up to go the the toilet during which time an incendary bomb had gone through four floors and into the cellar passing through the bed during its descent.She climbed back into bed and related how she could see the moon and stars on her ceiling,dementia,I believe it's called.
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