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The night of 1st-2nd June 1941 saw some of the worst bombing Manchester experienced. The nursing home my mother was in was near Salford Docks - obviously a prime target.

It was decided to move all the mothers with their newborn babies to the safety of an air-raid shelter, but because my mother was in the middle of a long and difficult labour, she was left in the delivery room, with just one person - a little old nun (the nursing home was run by nuns) to look after her.

My mother kept drifting off to sleep, and every time she cam back to reality it was like waking to a nightmare. The sky was red, lit with flashes of orange. The earth shook and every minute there were thunderess explosions as wave after wave of bombers came in.

Then things would go eerily quiet and the only sound would be the clicking of the nuns rosary beads.

After one particularly hideous explosion the nun said to mum, "don't be frightened my dear - Our Blessed Lady will keep you safe". When I emerged into the world amid sounds of squalling rage - they decided to call me Mary

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