Always the last one

When the air-raids used to come, because we were a big family, some of us used to stop at my granddad Sylvester’s next door. As a child I remember seeing the searchlights going up and down in the sky - we could see as far as Wolverhampton and all over that way, the sky all lit up. You could hear the bombing and feel the shakes.

I was more frightened by the gasmasks though. I was terrified of them and my father used to run me round the table and say, “I’ll give you a shilling if you stop and put that gas mask on”. It took me ages to put it on, I was so terrified. Even at school, I was the last one to put my mask on and when we used to have to go down the air-raid shelter, they always said “you go down first because you’re smaller and help them down the ladder” so that’s what I had to do. I was really terrified.

Kath Martin was my friend, and we were always going to the vicarage to get a new gas mask; it was pitch-black trying to find our way walking down and it was right along the main road past the coal wall and we had to walk back so we were always glad when we got in.
And the Warden would shout when we opened the door. “Shut that door!” He’d say; “you’re showing your light”

This story was submitted to the People’s War site by Becky Barugh of the BBC Radio Shropshire CSV Action Desk on behalf of Lilian Riedel and has been added to the site with her permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

See more of Lilian and Gottfried's stories:

• Charlie, Have you got a cauliflower?
• Seen from both sides
• Some mothers lads
• When you're young

© Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.