"It was summer 1939. I was 8 years old and living in Birmingham - a large industrialised city. Everybody was talking about war, whatever that meant. The way the adults talked, it certainly wasn't good. Apparently it was something to do with Germany, and the only thing I knew about that place was that most toys were marked "made in Germany"!

Everybody was being issued with gas masks - horrible smelly things made of rubber, which you put over your head and covered your face so that you could hardly breathe. In fact, if you put your hand over the holes in the front you couldn't - we did this to test of any air could get in through the sides!

There were special "Mickey Mouse" style masks for the very young children, and the big ones which you could put a baby completely inside. All these were in case the Germans dropped things full of gas on us from planes flying over, this it seemed was "mustard gas".

All the young men were being called up to serve in the Army, Navy, and the Royal Air Force. Sand bags were piled up around door ways of important buildings, such as the council and government offices.

People were given identity cards with a number which showed where you came from, and how many were in the family. There were also ration books. One each, as all food was to be rationed, including such things as oranges and bananas - which once the war started were a very rare sight - but worst of all, even sweets and chocolate were rationed!

Preparations were also underway for all children under a certain age, usually fourteen years, to be evacuated from the big cities which were most likely to be bombed, to the country, and to the outskirts of towns, which were comparatively safe. Whole schools were packing in preparation to leave. My name was down to leave with my school too, something I remember not relishing at all.

Eventually, the schools started to move out. I had got around my mother and persuaded her to let me stay and I went up with a couple of pals who were also not going, to watch them leave, along with the teachers. The schools would be closed. All those children boarding the coaches had their little cases, or carrier bags, and a label with their name and the name of their school tied to their coats, and off they went to the railway station.

With all the children leaving and the men going into the forces the town seemed very quiet and almost deserted. Very few people had cars in those days - even in the cities. Bread, milk and coal were all delivered by horse and cart!

My new found freedom was not to last for long. The lady who lived next door to us was Welsh and came from Builth Wells. Her family still lived there and quite often came to stay for a holiday - especially their elder daughter, who was the same age as my elder brother. They often played together when she was there. By chance she was there at the end of August 1939 and was due to go back to Builth Wells, very soon.

On the afternoon of September 1st I was playing in the street outside my aunts' when my brother came to fetch me. He said I was to go home to pack. My parents and the lady next door had decided I would go with her niece back to Builth Wells the following day.

So, on the morning of September 2nd 1939, Grace and I caught the bus from Birmingham to Llandrindod Wells, where we caught the local bus to Builth Wells.

The following morning, at eleven o'clock Sunday 3rd September, we heard Mr Chamberlain say on the wireless "this country is now at war with Germany".

Holidays had been rare event for me as a child. They consisted mostly of a day trip on a coach, or charabanc, as well called them in those days. So when I woke up on that first morning in Builth Wells to the sounds of birds, it was a shock to see out of my bedroom window nothing but hills all around, instead of roofs and back yards. One thing that stood out, in particular, was the site of Builth Wells Castle, where I was to spend a lot of my time playing and exploring

In spite of the inevitable homesickness, I soon made friends of my own age. Before long, I knew Builth Wells almost as well as any of them. We would cover many miles across fields and climb hills.

There was less restraint in the country, so most of our forays around were without supervision, other than being told not to go by the river. Although, there was a place up the Groe where, when the river was low, we could wade across to the other side.

Apart from the eldest daughter of the family who had brought me to Builth Wells, there was another daughter, who was three years older than me, and quite a tomboy!

Her word was law and woe betide anyone who went against her. She was quite big, and always took the lead in whatever we did, and nobody argues with her. On the other hand she was fiercely protective of anyone in her gang!

The lady of the house "Auntie Gladys" was fairly strict and one did what one was told without question. But her husband, "Uncle Mac". always stood up for me saying "leave the lad alone". One of my many jobs was to take the little hand cart to the farm to fetch manure for his allotment where occasionally I was allowed to help out.

Another of my jobs was to collect logs for the fire and I would travel quite a distance with my little hand cart to places where driftwood or broken trees provided the necessary wood."

Part 2 of Bernard's story...

More stories of World War II from Mid Wales...