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When I was about Six And a bit we lived in London east end and one night some time in 1940 we were bombed out of our house.We live in a terrace of five houses we lived at one end.One night the was a air raid and my Mum took me down and we went under the stairs were Mum had put some water ,sweets and a blanket in case we were in there a long time.After some time there was some very loud bangs,all of a sudden the cupbourd was filled with dust and it was hard to breath my Mum tryed to open the door but it was stuck.We could hear a lot of people shouting and we shouted back but nobody seemed to hear us it was very dark and I cried.My Mum said it would be alright and gave me a cuddle I think I went to sleep,Because later Mum said she could see day light but we could not open the door.We started to shout again and again and about dinner time someone shouted back and said they were digging us out.After a long time the door was opened and we saw an airaid warden and he carried me out.Then I saw that our house had been flattened by the bomb the only thing left standing was the stairs.My friend Terry and his big sister had been killed they lived two doors up .Later we had to move to Ipswich to live with my Grandmother.

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