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My mother lived in one of the most bombed cities in England- Hull. The bombs that fell their were rarely reported in the press because it was thought that doing so would give the Germans more accurate bearings. She was a bus conductress and tells so many stories. One of the bomb shelters was next to a cemetery and the drivers always joked "You'll be alright, if there's a hit your mother will be saved the cost of a funeral".
One night they left the bus in the road and went into a shelter when the siren sounded. They stayed until the bombing seemed to slow down when the 2 drivers went up to see if it was safe. They came back a short while later very white faced. They had tripped over something in the dark and though it was a body. It was actually a tailor's dummy. When they got back to the bus it was full of people who had just come out of the pub. They drove a bit further but the bombing started again so they went into another shelter. When the all-clear sounded they went back to the bus but just a little further along the road (about where they would have reached if they had kept going) was a large crater where a bomb had hit.
My mum got married in 1941 on the day Hull was shut down for a mock invasion. The city was divided in 2. My dad had to get through a checkpoint to reach the church, they were looking for Germans and he needed his army pay book to get past them. There was no organist because he was involved in the invasion. The photographer had been bombed the night before so couldn't attend. In 2014 we visited Hull and talked to people who were recording the details of the war. They knew about the mock invasion but hadn't a definite date for it. My mother was able to tell them. When asked how she was so certain she gave them a hard look and said "It is my wedding anniversary!"
Mum was only 17 when war was declared and 19 when she married. She is now 94 and still tells us stories of what happened to her.

Where did they live, Trisher?

My Grandfather was away in the Navy in the war - and my Mum was born whilst he was away. I think him being away in her formative years led to there being a lack of a bond there and they had a difficult relationship their whole lives. He was very lucky though - on one of his scheduled sails he was poorly and in the sick bay and was kept back to get better. His ship sank with complete loss of life!

Alice ex WAAF now 91 joined up at 18 became a photographer dealing with the areal photos which were taken when bombers released their bombs
was 4 years In the WAAF and am still in touch with some ex WAAFs but not many of us left these days
The 4 years service was .an experience not to be missed feel sure it formed my life to what I did after demob! doing 40 years voluntary involvement with
charities now recently retired

My gran had an off-licence shop in the war I believe it was on Kent Street which I think is Holderness Road area (will check with mum). My mum lived with her until she married when they got their own house, but she usually stayed with my gran when my dad was away. After the war they got a council house in North Hull but later moved to West Hull where I grew up. My gran got a prefab on Endike Lane.

My father was in the Home Guard. Plenty to do, especially during the blitz on Coventry, when the cathedral was bombed and ended up in ruins. Much of the town centre had to be rebuilt.
He married my mother during the war. The house they were due to live in was bombed, so was the shop where the bridesmaids dresses had been. His twin sister went to live with his elder brother. That was supposed to be temporary, but it became permanent, just as well, my mother had 5 children. For a long time dad's gasmask was kept in the cupboard under the stairs. We were not supposed to go in there, the 'bogeyman' would get us. Some of the floorboards in there were none too safe.
I remember dad's Home Guard coat was put on top of my bedclothes in winter for warmth.

Both my parents were in the Fire Service throughout the War. Dad went through the Blitz in Plymouth, before being posted back to the Midlands where he met Mum, who was a telephonist.
Mum was a Leading Firewoman, and was sent on several training courses in various parts of the country – she used to tell me about being stationed in a large (requisitioned) house near Andover in June 1944 and I have photos of her and the others on the course doing PE on the lawn .
One night the women had slept out on the wide verandah, and they were woken in the early hours by the noise of planes flying overhead; this was a frequent occurrence, but this time it was different – “They just kept coming and coming, hundreds and hundreds of them, and we knew that the invasion had started”.
The thought of those young women, lying in the darkness, watching the sky dark with planes, and knowing that in the next few days, the War would be won or lost, still makes the hair rise on the back of my neck...

My father in law doesn't talk about it much but he was a POW in Austria for a period, they were kept in the schonebrunne palace (childhood home of marie Antoinette). It all came out after my daughter visited Vienna and was showing him photos and a guidebook from the palace which he asked to keep to read. My mother in law later told me that he was fascinated with how it had been restored but didn't want to tell us he had been there, my niece actually found a photo of him stood at the same fountain outside that my daughter posed in front of. He always said he had been an army ski instructor (a lad from a poor inner city who never went SKIING in his life) but he transpired to be in intelligence, having many experiences from being saved by a gurka, being a POW, to being at arnhem bridge

The fact that this book has been published in conjunction with the children’s newspaper First News tells me that it is going to be an amazing, down-to-earth read, which everyone will enjoy. Fingers crossed I’m lucky.

Oh how I wish I had asked my parents about what it was like for them in the world wars but I didn’t and so that information is, for me, sadly lost forever. They were both born during the first war and so would have been young kids of twenty three (mother) and twenty two (father) when the second started. I know my father was in the RAF and very proud of it too, though I never got to know why he was so proud. So I know he did his bit and so I can be happy only with that.

Mum remembers sleeping on London tube station platforms during the Blitz. She married during the war - the whole community pulled together and pooled their coupons and made lots of it themselves including the dress and the lunch.

I always liked hearing the one about their neighbour, whose husband was in the Air Force. Apparently when he came back after being away fighting, his wife was waiting for him, looking out of the upstairs window, and the first thing she said to him was to shout out of the window: "you look a right mess!"

I was born in 1943, the tail end of the war, so I don't remember any of it. I had two older brothers, 2 and 4 years old. We lived in the country side I'm told that when the warning sirens went off, my father had to go into town. He was a miner, so exempt from military service, and was in the St Johns ambulance. My mother used to get all three children and herself under the stairs, which was supposed to be a safe place. I used to sleep in the clothes basket! When you think how difficult it is to get children to sleep, this must have been very unsettling. We lived by a railway, and my mother did not like the way the engines ignored the blackout , presumably because of the heat from the fire. She thought it would attract attention from planes flying to bomb nearby Coventry. Only one bomb dropped nearby, probably jettisoning a spare bomb before flying back to Germany - unless it saw the light from a train!

My grandparents wouldn't say much about their experiences in France in the first world war but they all came back as pacifists. Same with my parents who were in the forces during the second world war - all they would say was that too many people died and it must never happen again. We never learn do we?

My Mum was born in 1940. She had an older brother and sister and they all lived with my Nan in Dagenham, Essex. Because of the docks, Dagenham was hit on a regular basis so the time came for my Aunt and Uncle to be relocated to the country. My Mum remembers going to the train station and waiting patiently while Nan said her goodbyes to my Aunt and Uncle. As she waived goodbye from the platform, my Mum, who was too young to be relocated, said to my Nan, "Why are you crying Mummy? I thought you wanted them to be evaporated?"

My Mum was at Bletchley Park - which not even my Dad knew until they were in their 80s, and she told him.

She was a Wren and her job involved serving tea to Alan Turing, the genius who was in charge of cracking the Enigma Code.

There's a lake at Bletchley Park, which Turing would circle, deep in thought.

As he walked he would drink tea... and when he finished , he would throw the cup and saucer over his shoulder to the Wren... my Mum... running behind him.

She would then scamper off to make him another cup, which he would collect next time round !

I can remember as a child asking my Dad about the scar on his shoulder at the top of his arm at the front. It was an angry uneven scar.
He was wounded at El Alamein in Egypt. He never told me the full story and now its too late. He was extremely proud of his medals and that he had seen the pyramids and climbed to the top of 'the big one'. As he was joiner he was in the engineers. His nickname was 'snowy' as he had blond hair which was bleached in the sun. He was named in a book about the war.
Problems did last after the war, he was a smoker for many years as cigarettes were given out as rations !!!!!!!! and in his 60's he got facial skin cancer.
Rations did not include sun tan lotion !!!!!!
Mum was in the WAAF towards the end of the war and seemed to enjoy the uniform.
We were fortunate our memories were not horrific.

My mum was in Yorkshire as a child during the second World War. She remembers being put into lodgings with two elderly ladies who told her and her mum off for using the radio as it was using up precious electricity .. they did not understand it was battery operated! They also bought out home made jam as a treat on Sundays but my mum's mum wouldn't let her eat it as it had a film of mould on the top! As it was rationing, my mum was really hungry and found it so difficult to turn food away!

My Mum was a teenager during the second war. I remember her telling me as a child a family friend called Mr Tangy went off to war and never came back. I have always remembered the name Tangy.

my grandma who was born in 1900, used to tell us stories of how she worked in the mill and on the railways during the war, she used to unload and load cargo onto the trains and when she wasn't on that shift she was in the cotton mills working.. in between times she was raising her two daughters and looking after her mother and father, my mom was only 5 at the time and so she had to grow up very quickly, like all children of that era, lucky for them they had neighbours who would look out for them and as the key was always on the latch.... everyone was in and out of each others houses, caring for each others family ( and their garden plots, chickens etc!!) i wish that community spirit was as good now...

My father played in the Royal Engineers military band during the war. I would love to hear some of the stories from the soldiers

My grandad was a gunner in the war. He very rarely spoke of it, but he was a hero. His ship had taken a direct hit, and many lives were lost. He saw 2 of his ship mates I tbe water and ju ped in to rescue them. At considerable danger to himself. Unfortunately both men were lost,to my grandads dismay. He was decorated with a beautiful medal for his courage. He was and always be a hero God Bless Him and all the service personnel who actively gave their lives and continue to do so now. Im proud to say my eldest daughter is an army officer who has risen in rank and is very proud to serve her Queen and country.And has done since she was 16 years old she is now 32 years old has a son who wants to be a soldier like his mummmy

I was a 1950's baby and sadly my lovely dad died when I was just three, in 1955. An operation to resect his bowel due to chronic ulcerative colitis, caused peritonitis and in a moment, quite unexpectedly, he was dead. In those days, children weren't told much about death, or at least, not in my family. He was just there one day and then gone. I have a brass button from his Royal Artillery unifom, a few photos and his pewter cigarette box, which I have always treasured. Over the years not much was said about him, to me, at least, my mother was of the stiff upper lip brigade and clearly thought that she was protecting me (and maybe herself too, bless her) from pain through keeping silent. I did, however, discover that whilst serving in the Royal Artillery, he rose to the rank of Major and through 'gallant conduct' was mentioned in Despatches. I never knew exactly why and so often wished that I had something tangible which I could show my children and grandchildren. Anyway, imagine my delight, when I recently unearthed a large box of ancient photographs and mementos, boxed up and not sorted after my mothers death some years ago, to find carefuly stored in an old yellowing envelope, a letter from the King, thanking my father, a medal...and a special decoration which he was told that he could wear on his uniform on Coronation Day 1953. The decoration still has thread in it, where my mother must have sewn it on for him. In the envelope were his discharge papers and various other items relating to his military service. In 'civvy street', he was an architect and a musician...a gentle man. His obituary notice read ' Tony was the sort of man who never destroyed anything, through glance, word or deed'. He must have found the brutal reality of warfare very difficult and yet on a mission in Belgium, serving with a bomb detection unit, he did something extraordinary. I don't know what it was, but I'm proud of him. I wish that I could have known him.

My Mothers family, lived in the East End Stepney, in the height of the blitz, her house in White Horse Road, received a direct hit, freed from the cellar unharmed, but covered in soot, with no clothes, except what they were wearing,Did the only thing they could do, headed to a relative in Surrey, i remember Mum saying as the train left Waterloo, they looked back and saw London burning
Bought a house, in Godalming, took in lodgers, to help pay, the bills, one was my Dad, one year later, at the age of 40, married, and along came me, so in a round about way, fate brought me into the world.

The heroine of our family’s war was, in my opinion, Dad’s cousin Doris who, as a qualified experienced nurse, chose to join the Territorial Army Nursing Service (TANS) in 1939. Shortly after, in January 1940, a matron and 3 sisters from various hospitals proceeded to France as an advance party for the 16th General Hospital. The main body, including Doris, left Oxford in early February and landed in France on February 8th 1940. They took a train to Boulogne where they were billeted at L’Hotel du Cygne in the Market Square. From there the nurses commuted by van to a surgical unit located in the seminaire of acollege outside the town.
At first the hospital received mainly accident victims as there was little action but the blitzkrieg attack on 10th May changed all that and battle casualties began to arrive. The unexpected success of the German attack and its advance on the channel ports resulted in Panzer forces reading south Boulogne on 22nd May.
The situation was chaotic what with refugees and remnants of French and Belgian units streaming in. The threat to the port had been realised only 48 hours earlier and now there were conflicting demands from evacuating base troops, arriving fighting troops and the organisation of defence of the city.
Nurses were given priority evacuation where possible and Doris and her seriously wounded patients were taken off by one of the hospital ships that serviced the port daily.
Doris arrived in Dover with only the clothes she was wearing. She and five other nursing sisters were sent to a large mental hospital at Great Barr, Birmingham, which had been evacuated to receive casualties from Dunkirk. She had no English money but a taxi driver at Birmingham station gave her a free ride to the hospital as he said he was proud to help a Dunkirk survivor.
Later Doris was based at a tented hospital at Agordat in the Sudan, receiving British casualties from the Battle of Karne. She went on to nurse New Zealand casualties in Cyprus, following the assault and capture of Tunis before she left nursing to marry and have her daughters.
I regard Doris as a wonderful role model for the women in our family – and we have proved to be a strong, resilient group!

My dad was a sweet man, my mum ruled the roost, he never spoke much about the war, he was in the Royal Artillery, he joined up at a very young age, I have all his documents, some a bit tatty now, one of the comments on his release was " This soldier has performed the duties of a signaller with a good record of service, he is clean, honest and trustworthy, and can be expected to do his duties in an efficient manner. That was signed in January 1946, two years before I was born. What a lovely man my dad was , miss him so much, we have a photo of him in his uniform in Alexandria, strange my daughter called her daughter Andrea and my brother called his daughter Alex !,