Wake up to the sirens drone
I was small but not alone
Sound was like a mournful scream
Blinds drawn so our lights are not seen
I am a small boy once again
See my mother's eyes in pain
Dad's in London fire watching
It is wartime no time to sing
We hear the planes up in the sky
Can't look out even if I try
Blackout curtains do make sure
If light seen warden will knock door
Under the table we huddle
Pillows, blankets and cuddle
Quietly I fall asleep
Wake up in bed heard not one peep
Mother must have put me to bed
Now it's morning I'm not dead
So must get up, off to school
Can't miss the bus that is the rule
The bus is late, I can see why
Buildings bombed Mum starts to cry
Hoping dad will soon come back
Working all night he'll hit the sack
Dad arrived when we got back home
Shrapnel gift from a dropped bomb
Showed it off at school next day
Kids crowd around at break for play
I liked watching planes overhead
Or listen to them when in bed
War's horrid I've seen it all
Still recall it now standing tall
Image found at https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b00x543b
My second husband, who was a child in Holland during that war and the German occupation, still flinched in his sleep when a plane went over.
ReplyDeleteThe innocence of a child, waking, "I'm not dead," so matter of fact. I always love reading your wartime memories, Robin.
ReplyDeleteWar is a terrible thing, a monster that rarely lets go... not even after time has gone by. Thank goodness for being able to stand tall (and alive) today. That speaks of a lot of strength.
ReplyDeleteRobin, this is a tale that I would not wish to live. I am sorry that you did, but you told it well. We worried, even in the central U.S, Nebraska, and kept our windows darkened. Subs were off our coasts and Russian planes flew over Alaska, but no bombs for us. California, yes.
ReplyDelete..
I came along during the decade after the war, but I remember bomb sites clearly, my grandparents told me all about the Blitz, my dad about evacuation, and I put everything I learned into my children’s book to give the current generation an idea of what it was like to ‘wake up to the sirens drone’, see the pain in your mother’s eyes, make sure the blackout curtains were tight shut, and spend the night in a shelter or under the table. I like the line: ‘Now it's morning I'm not dead’.
ReplyDeleteLove your war time stories. Something you will never forget
ReplyDeleteI will never understand why men must make war. I still remember Pearl Harbor, and Roosevelt's "the only thing we have to fear is fear itself". Oh, sigh, I'm OLD!
ReplyDeleteIt's one thing to read about it in a textbook. It's another thing completely to live through such trying times.
ReplyDeleteI agree wholeheartedly with Rommy. I remember the stories my grandmother used to tell us of men and war.
ReplyDeleteYou never forget horrible experiences, do you? At least, I don't.
ReplyDeleteThe images of war never leave you...and your recall is quite vivid.
ReplyDeleteMy father never spoke much of WWII, and my husband avoids discussions on the Viet Nam war.
ReplyDeletemy mother sometimes tells stories of life during WW2. fear, deprivation, and boredom - and also imagination ~
ReplyDelete