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I was born in October 1940 and was brought up on the eastern edge of Southampton. My father was a woodworker and worked in an aircraft factory. This meant that he was not 'called up' for military duty - but he was part of a local fire watch team. I remember the log book and whistle sitting on the sideboard during those periods. We had an Anderson Air Raid Shelter in the garden. My mother would recount the tale of the day when the sirens sounded whilst she was bathing her firstborn (me) in the baby bath on the dining room table. What a dilemma!! Should she finish bathing me and dress me or whisk me - still wet, wrapped in a towel - down to the shelter. She decided to risk my catching pneumonia on the grounds that there was a chance I would recover from pneumonia. However, if Hitler were planning a direct hit on our house, there would be no second chance. My 80 year old grandfather lived with us. When the sirens went off in the night grandfather refused to leave his bed.

Grandfather did have his uses. He supplemented our rations with vegetables from his allotment in the fields at the edge of town - over which hovered a barrage balloon. He also kept chickens at the end of the garden and, as a result, we always had a bucket of eggs preserved in Water Glass in the pantry. Providing toys for children must have been very difficult for many parents. I was lucky. Father used 'off cuts' of wood from the factory to make a doll's pram, doll's cot and doll's house for me. The house was fitted throughout with wooden furniture, cupboards, beds, dining chairs, tables and armchairs. It even had an electric light in the master bedroom. Mother was a tailoress by trade so she was able to provide pram hood and apron, bed linen and soft furnishings and rag dolls.

Family excursions were very limited. Ours were by bike. I had a seat on father's cross bar. The wooden seat was made by father and padded and covered by mother. Mother's bike had been bought at the start of the war and was completely black - no chrome handlebars.

I was due to be christened at 6 weeks old. Unfortunately, during that weekend, there had been bombing in the centre of town and the relatives were unable to get across town. Mother was determined that the war would not upset her plans so neighbours were drafted in to act as Godparents. These relatives lived close to the dock area and, at times, during the war they used to stay with friends who lived in a small village, Ashurst, in the New Forest in order to have some respite from the threat of bombing. The High Street was badly bombed. The single storey replacement buildings and bomb sites filled with Rose Bay Willow Herb remained for several years after the war had ended. One of the large department stores which was bombed set up again in one of the suburbs on the north eastern side of town.

The grammar schools in the town were evacuated during the war. The 'mixed' school went to Andover - a small town in the north of Hampshire. The 'girls only' school went to Bournemouth further along the coast. The parents of some girls, I knew, chose to send them to the 'mixed' school purely because they considered Andover to be a safer place than Bournemouth. The educational merits of 'mixed' versus 'single sex' was not the issue. The vacated schools were used to billet troops. When I went to the Girls' Grammar School in 1952 the decor was as left by the Army - mid-brown to dado height and cream above. The rooms were labelled in black stenciling on the cream sections. Our school dining room was labelled 'Officer's Mess' until 1955/56 when the school was redecorated.

I don't recall the street party to celebrate the end of the war - but I do remember my outfit - dress by mother and wooden pill box hat by father.

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