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Glenn Miller Alive and Well In The UK
Anderson Shelter
V1 Buzz Bomb
One day during an air raid in 1944, I was standing outside our Anderson Shelter, which was
situated at the bottom of our garden. We lived just a mile from RAF Northolt, and our house was in a direct line
with the runway. We would see every day the many aircraft that took off and landed on their way to and from defending
the skies from approaching German aircraft. All very exciting when you're a kid of just seven years old.
But this particular night I had to go and relieve myself, and my father allowed me outside
the shelter if I hurried. As I looked up into the night sky I suddenly saw a red light heading toward us and shortly
afterwards heard the pulsating throbbing of the engine as it grew ever closer. I called to Dad to take a look,
no sooner had he popped his head out of the shelter he called me in and pushed me to the floor. At that precise
moment the noise of the engine stopped and there was a deadly silence…fear now was rushing through us, my mother,
father, sister and three brothers all packed in a 6ft by 4ft corrugated iron shelter. We thought we were safe from
such things as flying bombs and it was only after the war that I realised that the 'tin box' may have protected
us from shrapnel and debris but not from a direct hit of a bomb.
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