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- 17 February 2005
I was eight years old when war was declared (and fourteen when it finished) and with thousands of other children my younger sister and I were evacuated, we went to West wales, that was in the September of `39. We were not there long, about eight to ten weeks, my mother came out to visit us and saw how neglected we were (dirty and lousey)and took us back home in the coach, we were back home before the Xmas and long before the air raids. My Mother told my Father, if we are to die we will all go together.
The bombing started about nine months later, but the particular time I wish to write about happened in May`41, we called it the May Blitz, We were bombed night and day,(nights were none stop)for about a fortnight. The luftwaffe switched from London and targeted Merseyside because the command of all convoys in and out of the UK was based in Liverpool and the following poem is about my personal memories.
FIRE OVER MERSEYSIDE
The searchlights split the skies above the Mersey,
as the sirens wailed away in mournful tune
And as the German bombers shed their deadly cargoes,
they were sometimes in silhouette, against the moon
The ack ack guns replied in deadly earnest,
to put a stop to the bombers awful games,
but the whistling bombs were dropping all around us
and the barrage balloons were floating down in flames.
The sky was red as blood above the Mersey,
from the fierce fires burning all around
and the noise had reached a great crescendo,
as massive loads of bombs all shook the ground.
Incendiary bombs were scattered like confetti
as they firebombed nearly all the towns,
but our Firemen fought those fires just like heroes
and our spirits were never truely down.
Each night we waited for the wail of sirens,
to let us know the bombers had returned
and Merseyside lay battered and was bleeding,
as it watched its homes being blasted, bombed and burned.
Some people stayed in shelters during air raids,
Others stayed beneath their tables or their stairs,
while the night time, was turned around to day time,
by the flashes, of the bombs and guns and flares.
When daylight shone through the smoke, above the river
and the sirens wailed away in monotones,
There were lots of empty spaces between the houses
and rubble had taken the place of peoples homes.
Though the Luftwaffe paid a visit to us nightly
and did its best to blow us all to bits,
some of us did go to meet our maker,
But most survived that deadly Maytime Blitz.
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