Your Stories From the Blitz
In the early 1940’s it was my mothers policy to go and see her sister on a Sunday afternoon and of course, I had to go too, walking all the way to Higher Openshaw. It was just the same on Sunday 23rd December 1940, the walk to my aunts. We had tea and were just about to start for home when Jerry called and unloaded a great pile of incendiary and high explosive stuff on the city. We were marooned by this until about 11pm when they all seemed to go home, so we thought the raid had ended and we decided to venture back home too.

We got back to Sandal Street and all was quiet so we went to bed.

There were a few more bangs and then for some unknown reason I was completely under the covers. It was a good job too for there was a massive explosion just over the street and all the windows crashed into the headboard of the bed, just where my head would have been, so I guess I was lucky. That headboard had glass impregnated in it until it was eventually disposed of in the 1980’s! I can remember I spent the rest of the night sitting in the air raid shelter at the bottom of the yard, hanging onto the one dog we had left. I don’t know who was shaking the most, the dog or me.

All night long the banging and crashing carried on and another bomb fell quite close on Hulme Hall Lane demolishing what I think was a Doctors surgery. By morning of course it was all over and everywhere was in a mess. It was only at this time we realised that a parachute land-mine had fallen, Energy Street taking the brunt of it, and this was what had destroyed our house. Unfortunately a school friend, Hilda, was one of those killed in that episode. Both the land-mine and the bomb were less than 200 yards from the gas holder.

Manchester took a heavy attack that night and there were no Civil Defence heavy rescue units here - they were all in Liverpool helping them out!

When the sun came up it was a case of going to the Reception Centre in Ancoats Hospital and checking in before finding somewhere to live. As my aunt had a spare room that’s where we went, and so ended my residential association with the area. As a result of course, I lost contact with my pals at eight years of age, and never thought I would see them again.
Frank Taylor