Hi, I'm not actually Hazel. I'm her daughter Gillian. Over many years my mother has recounted numerous stories about her experiences, both as a young girl on the Isle of Wight and later, working in London during the bombings.
Many of her stories were sad and many extremely funny. It seemed a shame to just leave them to disappear into the mists so, over a protracted period, I've managed to get her to scribble things down. I've spent some considerable time editing them and trying to come up with something coherent, entertaining and thought provoking and I shall be posting themed chunks in order to comply with the word count limit on here.
What I found so suprising whilst researching a lot of this was the different experiences people had. My mother, as you will see from her musings had a very busy, interesting and occasionally sad time whereas my father's war was a total washout.