Shelters

For most people this was the Anderson shelter in their garden. These were made by digging a pit, placing the curved corrugated steel at the side, bolting together at the top, then covering the whole with earth to further reduce the impact of shrapnel or falling masonry. People kept a supply of candles, bedding and matches in this damp bolt-hole. Torches were of limited use because batteries in those days didn't last long and were very scarce indeed.

We had a Morrison shelter. This was delivered in pieces and had to be constructed inside the house. Four corner uprights were made from heavy angle iron. Sheet steel covered the top and when constructed, it was the size of a double bed.

My parents slept on the top of this every night, and we crawled into the safe space underneath whenever a raid began. Welded wire netting panels completed the structure and protected those inside from masonry and other debris in the event of a hit. When the siren went off, my parents would join me in this little house and we'd painted it a rather jolly peacock green. My father who was a whiz with electrics had rigged up a 126 battery (you know the one with two screw terminals on top) and a couple of torch bulbs. It gave enough light to crawl about. There was certainly no street lighting and we couldn't waste electricity by leaving a main light on, quite apart from the considerable likelihood of a power cut during or after a raid.

If you were away from your home, there were public shelters. These were built in school yards and similar places. My father's secretary went to the post-box a couple of streets away from her home in Grangetown, and when the siren went off, she went to a public shelter. When the raid ended she returned home to find the house had taken a direct hit and her parents, brothers, sisters and neighbours were all dead. As you can imagine, the shock and trauma remained with her all her life. She lived with us for a few weeks while finding a place to live in Grangetown again.