I was evacuated to Neath along with my sister from North London when the mini Blitz and the V1's started.

We already had a lucky escape when in our old house, a bomb had blown the wall out of the bedroom while we were inside sheltering. It was thought best we leave London.

I was around five and my sister two years older. Dad was in the army in Italy. Mum had to stay in London, so we travelled to Wales by train as part of a group of children with helpers in charge.

When we arrived at Neath Station we were taken to a school where we sat at desks until picked by a family.

My sister and I went to different families but were not told at first.

I went with the Brown family. Mr and Mrs Brown had a teenage daughter. They had also chosen another boy so there were two of us.

They lived next to open country with the river not far away. I liked it there being able to roam the fields and got on well with the family.

Mr Brown used to shoot rabbits which hung in the lobby. Opposite the house was a stone tower and at evening time hundreds of bats would come out.

I would have been content to stay there but my sister was so upset at us being separated I was sent to stay with her family in Skewen.

Strange that I can remember the Brown's surname but not their Christian names or the name of the place they lived. I never remember going into town while I was there.

One memory is of American troop convoys going by with us children calling from the school playground for gum and sweets.

Skewen has far more memories of the family, father and mother, grandfather and a daughter a few years older than my sister.

I liked the Brown family but this new family were great. I am ashamed that I can't remember their Christian or surname, only that the mother was called Blodwyn.

Although I have not been there for 60+ years and had no idea of the address my memory of it is so good that using Google Earth I am pretty sure the house was in Park Drive.

Then it was the last house on the right-hand side as you came up the hill from the main road next to the field where the milkman kept his horse.

Nearly opposite, laying well back, was a big white house. In the background behind, Drumeau Mountain.

Blodwyn and her family treated my sister and I as one of their own and I enjoyed my time there.

We kept in contact with them till my mother contracted TB soon after the war. She was seriously ill for a long time and we lost touch.

Unfortunately I have only one photo of that time and that is of my sister and Blodwyn's daughter which I have attached.

We hear of evacuees having a bad time but I had no problems of any description. I may not remember their names but I remember the kindness shown to me and my sister by those Welsh families and the other people there.