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In 1940 I was evacuated to Horley, Surrey. I was five and half years old but the memories of that time are vivid.
I remember, in the late evening when the London blitz had started, kneeling on my bed with my brother, aged 12 and the two children of the family we stayed with watching the increasing red glow over in the sky over London. I felt excited and kept bouncing up and down while taking in the glorious sight. Little did I understand that under that glow people were dying and being mained.
The innocence of childhood.
We were there until 1941 and during the spring of that year the daughter of the house and I went to a farm just down the lane where our house was, to collect eggs. On the way we passed a large house where a unit of the Canadian Army were staying. The house was used as the offices and mess for Officers while the men were under canvas in the fields.
On the way back from the farm a German bomber decided to have a crack at the Canadians and flew over with guns blazing. Unfortunately we were just passing the house. Mary, the daughter, pushed me into a ditch and laid on top of me. I can distinctly remember hearing the Phut Phut of bullets hitting the road as the plane flew over.

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