but age does this, the memory. I had written this piece once before, much more vividly, but it too was lost to computer changes. Glad it evoked some memories for you though. I too played in the Municipal shelters, too scary to go far in though, and too wet.
Paula, yes, they really only show the larger shelters and those who wheltered in the Underground railway stations. Seeing things from my end of life, I forget a lot of how scary it was but just now thinking about it, I used to have chills run up and down my spine for many years afterwards whenever they played those sirens on t.v. and films. I am over that now but it took a long, long time. Glad you too liked the story. Also just thought about when myh dad was working in the local Nestlké factory and it got bombed. Evelyn/Bluedragon

Great job, Evelyn. You certainly evoked memories of those times for me. In our street, in the North of England, only a few houses had bomb shelters built into their back gardens. We children would go and play in them in the late 1940's, after the war was over. I was three years old when the war ended, so have no recollection of bombing, probably because we lived in the country, eight miles away from the City of Manchester - so escaped the danger.

For us kids, air raid shelters, or dug-outs, were fun places to play, although dark and dank. We also played with rubber gas masks, pretending we were soldiers.

You brought back the times quite vividly and even for those of us who never saw a blacksmith, the sight and smells could easily be visualized by your fine descriptions.

I love recollections of long ago. You did it beautifully. I enjoy your stories very much and always look forward to your next one. xx

into scary and into a vivid enjoyable experience.

That was interesting to learn that citizens had their own bomb shelters. I had always envisioned [when reading about that time] of public shelters crammed with people - I know the horrific pictures that were shown of the bombing in Iraq during the nights were scary even though I was sitting in America watching.

I am happy you ended with such a nice verbal picture of a blacksmith and the memory evoking smells...p;]