My memories of the war are of course childish ones, I was born in 1936, so was only 3 and a half at the beginning. This means I grew up with life in war time being the norm, I accepted what happened and it is only now looking back that I can compare those times with peaceful ones.
We lived in Coventry and my
father was a chemist so was in a reserved occupation, so when lots of my
friends fathers were away at war, I had mine at home safe. Dad was fortunate
to be one of the very few to have a car, a Lanchester and it was famous for
its whining sound, we lived in a cul de sac and 
Dad
would sometimes come home in the early hours of the morning and he would drive
to the circle at the top of the road to turn round and to come back to park
outside our house, half way down, neighbours told him that it sounded so like
the air raid siren that they got up and went down to the shelters.
Dad's
nocturnal driving was because he was a member of the Royal Observer Corps, he
had an air force blue battle-dress uniform and worked shifts, Mum
was also a member and I remember her looking especially smart in her uniform.
If you have seen the old films depicting personnel working and plotting the
movement of attacking bombers moving onto our territory and the Sptifires being
sent out to intercept, that was what my parents did. Mum was one of the more
elevated people looking down onto the board. They would not have gone out together
as they had me, I do remember us driving to the place where they worked once,
it was an old manor type house in parkland on the outskirts of the city.
Of course Coventry was bombed heavily but I only thought of it as exciting. We would get up in the middle of the night, I would be dressed in my specially made purple siren suit and we then went down into the shelter. Early in the war we went into a neighbours Anderson shelter, you dug a deep hole in the garden put this corrugated iron shed into the whole then shovelled the earth from the hole back on top of the shelter. To be honest I don't remember this, my memories are of sitting in the shelter Dad made in our garden. He built a very substantial shelter from concrete, it took up about a third of our garden and must have been a real hard job to dispose of after the war. I remember bumps and bangs but I was never frightened, however Mum tells me that one night I asked her as I sat on her knee why she was shaking me so much, and she says now that that was because she was terrified. We had minor damage, the coal house door was blown open one night and we often found the skeletons of small incendiary bombs in the garden. The nearest house to us that was demolished was the one at the bottom of the street, seemed a good distance away to me in those days, but on visiting many years later , I was surprised to see it was only 10 or 12 doors away from us. I had a nightmare about that house one night that I can still remember. I went down to play in the ruins and the fireplace was still standing with its rug in front , as I stood there a German soldier came out from under the rug and chased me up the street and I was afflicted with that slow motion feeling when you want to run fast and can only move at though your legs are in treacle.
I remember being taken to see the devastation of the city centre, Owen Owens was the large department store and that was just about wiped out, my memories of it for some time were just the boarded up windows . Of course the cathedral was burned out but I think my memories of this are from visits to Coventry much later when the new cathedral had been built alongside. I do remember how dark the city centre was, no streets as light as day as now, darkness, no street lights and cars had headlights with just slits , nothing must give bombers any aid.
Shortages were a part of life, dentist were few and far between, no orthodontists to straighten out crooked teeth like now, and medical care was in short supply. I needed my tonsils out, ( a fashionable thing , probably frowned on now) and I remember well the day I had them done. Early on the morning, a rather flash ambulance stopped at our door and Mum and I got in, it then went all over the city collecting other children and their mothers. I remember being told to count to ten, and then nothing until I awoke in bed. There were 14 children on 7 beds, top to toe and we all took turns to be sick. At 4 o'clock our mothers were allowed in and we were shepherded to the waiting ambulance . This time not a flash vehicle, but an open backed army lorry. We all sat on our mothers knees, being sick into bowls as we toured the city dropping off children at their homes. First on, meant last off it seemed as I remember what a long journey it seemed until we got back home and I was put into a lovely cool bed. I was about 7 at this time so it must have been around 1943.
My girl friend Shirley had her tonsils out about the same time, but she had hers done at home on the kitchen table.
I have a memory of standing in the back garden gazing up at the sky and seeing it black with aeroplanes, must have been ours or there would have been a panic, unfortunately I am not sure if this is a factual memory or a dream or something someone told me about. Another side to life in wartime was the necessity to take in lodgers, I remember three, a Mr and Mrs Crick who stayed a while and left our family with the catch phrase 'Stand up Claud' as this is what Mrs Crick always said when the national anthem was played. Another was a young lady who left her room full of fleas, we were glad to see her go. The last one I remember was Mr Sugden, he was a great favourite with me, taking time to teach me to sing Silent Night. He worked in local government and was with us quite a long time. Bananas were never seen in wartime England and when my uncle Ken sent me one in a box, (he was in the army and stationed somewhere where they were abundant) I ate it and Mum stuffed the peel with cotton wool and sewed it up again as a joke for Mr Sugden, he was very popular with me. Later I wrote a letter to my uncle Ken thanking him for the banana and I remember my Dad picking it up from where it sat ready for posting and he tore it through, he had just heard that his brother Ken had been killed at Monte Cassino.
Shortages were a way of life, I remember the small squares of butter, margarine and lard and the small allowances of sugar, and the long queues when Isherwoods the butchers had some sausage for sale. Sweets were a rarity but not knowing anything different I did not miss them. I never remember feeling hungry so the food must have been adequate. You were certainly encouraged to grow your own but I only remember the runner beans growing in our garden. Although so young during the war years the feeling of wonder and relief at it's end was very real . It was like a black cloud being lifted and everyone's spirits soared. We had a street party like so many other streets, our cul de sac lending its curving head to this event. Long tables seemed to have plenty of food for all the children and the high spirits made it a wonderful event. For many years after , on observing families out in parks enjoying themselves,people doing their own thing and having the freedom to do so, I always got the feeling how wonderful, so different to those years of my childhood when no one felt free to enjoy leisure, there was always something serious to do, to help the war effort, you were not free to throw caution to the winds and enjoy yourself, too many men were dying across the channel and everyone suffered under this air of oppression. No wonder its lifting gave such elation to all.