The following are memories recalled by Mrs I Carling, as recorded by Hanover Housing Association in their book 'Tale of the Century' published in 1999.

I was eight years old in 1939 when I overheard the grown-ups saying with dread in their voices that there was going to be a war. It all seemed silly talk and unreal to us children.

Butsoon labels and gas masks appeared, clothes were sorted and packed into a suitcaseand food was put into a carrier bag. Next we were taken to school and joineda long queue of children, all with labels pinned to their coats and holdingbags.

There was a frightening air of urgency; orders were being shouted and it was all very bewildering. Soon it was time for my small sister and I to say a tearful goodbye to mother before we were marched away, waving and crying.

The next thing we knew was that we were on a train to the country. It was a nightmare for us as we had never left home before. We had no idea where we were going and it seemed too dangerous to talk. Every mile seemed like ten but at last we got off and were ushered into a coach and taken to a church hall.

We lined up once again, still with our labels pinned to our clothes and orders were again shouted. My sister and I were taken by car to our final destination and we found ourselves waiting nervously on a strange doorstep, wondering who would open the door.

It was a quiet little lady who looked strict and helpless at the same time. We felt rude to be intruding and we were made to feel this way for the next few years. We were given strict rules to follow and the other children and grown-ups were not too shy to let us know that we were less than welcome.

We shed many a silent tear and our one comfort was the occasional letter from home where we longed to be again. But the bombers continued to travel overhead on the way to London and sometimes we saw the aeroplanes fighting overhead.

We thought the day when we could go home would never come, but it did. At last victory came and we were home in our own beds and waking up to the early morning of the cock that lived in our road.