My first recall to my life was being with my sister running to see an old lady with one leg, we children all called Auntie Jinnie and her husband Uncle Sam.

Around 1943/44 my family lived in Clara Street, Miles Platting, we spent many nights in the air raid shelters at the top of our street, my dad had made beds for the shelters in his spare time. He worked at Heenan’s on Monsall Road, which made shells for the army. Mum worked at West Gas, which made tanks. The local kids used to go and try to cadge a lift on one; sometimes we were lucky.

I remember when the war ended and the troops came home by train, and stopped in the sidings at the top of our street, a few of the lads got treats off the soldiers. I remember Brian Murray getting cigs, I got some too, and the soldiers threw us tins of sardines and other tinned food.

At the opposite end of our street was the Fire Station, my friend Dave Bull’s dad was a fireman, and we were always getting into trouble off Mr. Painting the Station Officer for going in the drying room.

I was really chuffed one day when Harry Warrell, a fireman knocked on our door and asked my mam could I go to the Fire Station kids Christmas party. I was as black-as-the-hobs-of-hell, because I’d been playing in the shelters, but I soon got a quick wash and clean jersey and was ready!!

Some of the families at the party were, Summers, Gitting, Taylor, Napper Tomlinson and Drinkwater. At the party I was given 100 lead soldiers. Another time I was given a catapult, which to this day I don’t remember seeing it after I took it into the house! I was too mischievous to be allowed out with a catapult!
At new year we rung the bells in the fire engines to ring in the new year, with all our parents gathering round to sing Auld Lang Syne then everyone went home for hot-pot and red cabbage. (Still one of my favourites, even today). Good old days
Bill Woodruff