When I was 5 in 1939 myself, my mom and sister were all evacuated to Pilning near Bristol. It was a farm and they had a sheepdog which we dressed up for my 6th birthday. I also tried my first sip of cider when they were making it. We only stayed for a few months because mom didn’t like leaving dad on his own and she said that we might as well all die together so we went home.
During the war in 1940 my house was down the alley on Station Road and it was bombed out, I lived in a row of six cottages Kingston Cottages they were called at number six. When the bomb fell we were all under the stairs with bad chests because of this mom refused to take us to the air raid shelter because it was so damp. After the bombing dad took us out from under the stairs and took us to the air raid shelter where he then said that he had to go to work otherwise there would be no bread for anyone. Our house was badly damaged and unlivable but number one was completely destroyed, as was half the cottages. Unfortunately these cottages were no longer able to be lived in and were eventually demolished, so we were one of the last families to ever live in one. On Station road was a single story grocer shop which two ladies ran. They took my family to one of their relatives who had room to put us up, they lived in Olton. Eventually dad sent us up to Scotland (where my parents originated) to stay with with my grandma. We were there for about six months and then returned to Birmingham and rented a house at number 3 Station Road, which we were only there for a short time. We then moved to number 3 Sherbourne Drive where we stayed for the rest of the war.