I was seven when the war started
I was 7 when the war started. An incendiary bomb fell on the house next door to us, where a lady lived on her own, but luckily she was safe in her shelter. Dad lived next door to her! (My mum and dad lived next door-but-one to each other when they were growing up!)
Harold (my dad's father) was an air traffic warden and used to come and check on us in our shelter. My cousin John and I were evacuated to Mum's aunt and uncle's house in the Lake District for a bit. It was worse when we got back to Manchester. The doodle bugs were the worst -- as soon as the engine stopped, you knew they were coming down. Frightening!
My Aunty Dorothy left hardly any room in the shelter, she wrapped John up so well! Mum struggled to get me out of bed to go into the shelter.
Shared by Janet Reeve, her daughter
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