REGARDING the article of Bernie Clifton’s experience of the bombing raids on St Helens during the Second World War.


I lived in the next street, Alfred Street, and when the sirens went off to warn everyone of German bombers approaching my dad would usher us, my mam, granddad and me under the stairs – he said it was the strongest part of the house.
Most of the neighbours had Anderson shelters in their backyards, but dad had a garage which he wasn’t about to knock down.

When the bombs hit I remember my dad saying – that was really close. When morning came my mates came to tell me that a nearby house had been hit.


The bombed houses became regular playgrounds for most of us kids. In the 40s, unlike today, we had great respect for the police man on the beat, who used to come around periodically, we scattered when he did.


One day he caught me jumping out of the front window of the bombed house, which was smashed, he gave me the best crack around the ear I have ever had and told me to go home and tell my dad, which I didn’t for dad would have given me another.


Incidentally when the ack-ack guns were firing a large piece of shrapnel came down and smashed slates and our wash house roof – happy days!


A few years later at the school sports day at the Cowley girls field I ran against Bernie in the relay – unfortunately he had his ostrich legs on. 


Colin Grundy, Billinge