As a baby having been born a year after the war broke out,I used to sleep in the hall,in my pram,and dad put one of his socks on the coil of the grandfather clock so that the chimes didn't wake me up. Apparently,I used to sleep during the raids and when the" Doodle-Bugs" used to fly over. They were the bombers that could be heard overhead and once they went silent,it spelled trouble as it was then that a bomb would drop. I remember mum saying she lived in fear when she heard one and hid in the cupboard under the stairs,as she wouldn't go in an air-raid shelter or the Anderson shelter which we had in the garden.
I even remember dad dis-assembling the Anderson shelter and its corrugated material,and where it had been,he planted strawberries. Then began planting veggies and potatoes.
Dad had some Jew friends who lived in Liverpool and he'd brought them to the house once Liverpool was targeted,but his brother-in-law,a staunch communist,threatened to go to the newspapers because dad was sheltering these people. I don't know the full story,but these friends of dad kept him employed for most of his working life.Their way of repaying him.
We were also fortunate at the time to have an uncle who was a steward on one of the Cunard Line ships and who used to bring us produce from the States after his vists there,so as a family during the war,we did pretty well and didn't appear to go without. Some poor souls must have really struggled,and yes,we should look back at those days/months/years and thank all concerned for our lives and for what we have today.
I had the good fortune to visit the war graves in Canberra when I stayed with my family in Australia,and it would make you weep at the thousands who gave their lives so that we could live ours,in peace. The place is immaculate and a credit to those who look after the graves. The Anzacs are very proud of their history and are also extremely patriotic.