EASTER TUESDAY 1941
In 1941 I was 17 years of age. I lived with my Grandparents because my Mother died when I was 12 and my Father left me to be cared for by my Grandparents. We lived in a large Victorian house in Alliance Avenue at the top of the Cliftonville Road.
Easter Tuesday 1941, I will never forget. We had spent a lovely few days in Portrush and returned home that evening as I had to go to work in the food office the next day.
I was tired and ready for bed when the air-raid siren sounded. I could hear bombs and gunfire — there was an anti-aircraft gun not far from where we lived. We hid in the cupboard under the stairs, but suddenly there was a very loud bang and we soon realised the house was on fire. It had been struck by a volley of incendiary bombs. Grandfather and I tried to put some of them out but we soon realised we could not control the fire, and so we had to get out of the house.
We had a very large garden and we went out as far from the house as possible until it was all over. Suddenly I looked up and to our horror a huge parachute was passing over our heads. I knew it was a landmine and that it would destroy us all and everything around for at least a quarter of a mile. Unbelievably, it landed in an orchard not too far away and made a hole large enough to be a lake.
Our house survived because the A.R.P men helped to put out the fire. I had very few clothes left and my bedroom was gutted by the fire. The one thing that really upset me to this day was the loss of my teddy bear!.
PATRICIA McFAUL
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