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This story was submitted to the People's War site by Vanessa Norris at the 麻豆官网首页入口 Television Centre Remembrance Day on behalf of Eric Spanier and has been added to the site with his permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

Tooting, SW London: 1938/ 39. In 1939 I was seven years old and I remember seeing deep shelters built on Clapham Common. I also remember one afternoon a table was set up in our street and we were all issued with gas mask.

In Sept 1939, I returned from a summer holiday with my parents. We had been staying with my grandmother who worked on the Isle of Wight. We were waiting for a train home from Waterloo station and I remember seeing a newspaper board with the word 'War'.

June 1940- The month I was evacuated. The whole school (Sellincourt Road Infants) marched through streets to Tooting Junction station. I was carrying a small rucksack for my luggage. I remember the cornfields en route and that we changed trains at Exeter. We stopped at several villages and at each stop we got off and lined up in the road so the villagers could take who they wanted. Those of us that remained then re-boarded and went onto the next village. Those of us not selected were then deposited at a commandeered camp belonging to NALGO (trade union). We were put in to chalets to sleep and were fed. Effectively we had no education from here, although at some point two student teachers arrived and we wrote letters home and learnt how to sing 'Frere Jaques'.

We roamed the Downs and cliffs in all directions. No one knew where we were on a daily basis. I've returned since and looked down on the cliffs we climbed down and have been frightened to death! Three years ago I visited Croyde again and through a local vicar I met a man of my generation, who lived in the area at the time. I formed a strong impression that he was somewhat reticent about the evacuees. Afterwards I realised that we 30 plus evacuees had had no contact with the local children and knew none of them. They certainly didn't know us. In essence, when evacuated in June 1940, aged 8, my life as a member of a family ended- with all that means in forming one's personality.

One evening in Sept/Oct 1942, my mother appeared. Our gang were in an underground hide we'd built. She said she was taking me home. I didn't want to go but next day I returned to Tooting with her. I realise it was because she was lonely as my father was in India and Burma in the army.

During the second Blitz of 1942-3 we 'slept' in our downstairs neighbours' coal cupboard which was under our stairs, as this was the most secure place available. The ground shook when the 'Z-Batteries' (rockets) on Tooting Bec Common fired, about one mile away. Like everyone else, when the 'All Clear' sounded we walked to where nearby bombs fell to watch the rescue.

1944- 1945: The grammar school I now attended (Tooting Bec) gave us the option of attending school, but in the shelters dug in the school grounds. Alternatively, we did not attend at all. Like any normal school boy I decided not to attend. Days were spent either going to museums etc. with school friends or roaming local streets where VI's fell, collecting pieces of shrapnel from AA guns.

As there was just one street surface shelter on our street when the V1 and V2 raids worstened, wooden bunks were put in cellars under some local shops. We took bedding and slept there. There were no 'facilities' of any kind I can recall. Most of us caught fleas.

In 1945 I watched convoys of artillery guns heading out of London down the A24. I can also remember that a V2 fell a few streets from home, around midday, whilst I was at school. When I returned home I found my bed pierced by all the glass blown out of the windows. I remember where I was for VE day. We all went to the site of where the V2 had fallen and pulled out all the timber from the rubble. We then made a giant bonfire in the middle of the road. Later that year, father returned from the 14th Army in Burma. He was yellow due to Mapacrine tablets for malaria. He suffered bouts of malaria for years.

In 1946 a school friend and I went to watch a victory parade in the Mall. Being small we saw practically nothing! Central London was saturated with people, wall to wall, across every road. We twice lost sight of each other around Trafalgar Square and Whitehall, although amazingly we found one another again on both occasions. That I have always considered to be the most statistically unlikely event in my entire life. We started walking home but managed to board a tram about Clapham.

Something I consider is now never made clear is food rationing. There were 3 types of ration book. The first was a green for babies and children up to about 8, which allowed bananas, oranges, orange concentrate etc. The second was a white book for adults who had more of the same items. Older children between 8-16 years had books which had the benefits of neither- we had no bananas or oranges at all throughout the war.

After the war was over I had my first steak. It was whale and like fillet, but slightly fishy- it was very nice! I learnt to cook by reading the instructions on packets of US dried egg powder and making scrambled egg when I arrived home from school. My mother didn't finish work in the paint making factory until 6pm.

Some other thoughts on food; horse meat was 'off ration' and could be bought wherever available. It was dyed, green I think, as it was meant only as pet food. I remember being sent to buy a fish to boil up for our cat and was given gurnard, which I'd never heard of. Because of its cast-iron head, I recall using a small chopper to remove it. It is now, I see, a delicacy amongst fish!

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