Some of the lads, including Joe Brown, Aggie and Nelly’s brother, and Jim and Tim Lewis, Derek’s brothers, volunteered rather than waiting to be conscripted. I thought they were ever so brave to volunteer. Mabel Brown was in pieces as she waved goodbye to her only son.

With the help of his pal, Dad built us an Anderson shelter. It took up most of the back yard, but the neighbours were impressed. Lots came to view it and a few followed suit. Viv and I spent hours in that shelter mucking about with our gas masks, eating sweets, playing games and planning our futures. Viv wanted to become a midwife when she left school and I wanted to work in a posh shop that sold fashionable women’s clothes.

Christmas came and went without any drama, then in January 1940 the rationing started. Bacon, butter and sugar were the first items to become scarce. I was used to having three sugars in my tea, so I cut down to one and a half. I wanted to do my bit. I had to really.

By the summer of 1940, our neighbours in the East End were referring to the Second World War as the ‘Phoney War’ because nothing was happening. Lots of my friends who’d been evacuated began to return to the area, including Aggie and Nelly Brown. The laughter returned to our close-knit community and myself, Viv and our pals started to venture further afield again. We’d go over the marshes or Victoria Park. On hot summer days I loved going to Vicky Park. They had a lido there, so I always came home feeling nice and clean. It was better than washing in the sink or our tin bath at home. That took ages to fill with water, so mum would take me and Viv to the public baths once a week so we could scrub ourselves properly clean with soap and a flannel.

All good things must come to an end so they say, and that was certainly the case on 7 September 1940. That was the day the Blitz started. I will never forget the sound of that first bomb going off.

‘Mum. Mum, you upstairs?’ I squealed, as the house literally shook and the cup of tea I’d just made flew off the kitchen hob, scalding my legs. There was no reply and I knew my dad and Viv were out. Petrified, I crawled on all fours inside the larder and shut the door. ‘Help! I think the house is falling down,’ I screamed, as I heard something else smash. I honestly thought I was going to die there and then. I even wet my knickers I’m ashamed to admit. Mum returned minutes later. She’d popped to the shops. The bomb had landed only two streets away from us. Too close for comfort.

Within an hour, Mum, Dad, myself and Vivvy were huddled together in our shelter in the back yard, but I didn’t feel at all safe in there. We could hear screams, smell smoke drifting through the air. I couldn’t help worrying about Aunt Edna. Was she OK? Had she made it to her nearest shelter? Then another bomb dropped and all but ruptured my eardrums. I was terrified at that point, so was Viv. My sister and I huddled together, crying.