Oh no! Not the Blogosphere!

It was January and we had had a lovely day at school. In cookery we all made shepherd's pie and I was looking forward to showing mine off at home. Mrs Brady had told me that it was the best one, but she told me quietly to avoid upsetting the others. I liked Mrs Brady; she was always so kind to us all. I think I was her favourite, but she was always careful not to let it show. Whenever she told me about a particularly good piece of work, she would always wink and put her finger to her lips as if to say ‘mum's the word.’

It was dinnertime and we were all excited because that afternoon we were going on a trip to the theatre and I'd never been before. I'd been to the cinema a few times but never to the theatre. We'd finished our dinner and were just tucking into our jam tarts when Mary Miller - the head girl - ran in to tell us the air raid siren had started and we were all to go to the shelters, ‘directly’. Mary was a nice girl, but she did put on airs, especially when she was given something important to do. Just as Mary had finished speaking, a younger girl, who I didn't know, shouted that she could see a plane. We all looked up out of the window and saw she was right. It was flying ever so low and as it shot past the windows, we could even see the pilot. Bessy Green waved at him and he seemed to wave back, but then someone noticed the swastika on the side and screamed to us all to dive down. We were terrified of course and didn't know what to do. In the panic, some ran for Mary and the door down to the shelters, while others - me included - just dived under the tables. I kept my head up and watched the plane. It climbed up and around then headed straight for us again. I was petrified, and watched the whole thing frozen to the spot. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The pilot leaned forward to do something to the controls and then the next thing I knew the world was one huge noise and everything was black and yellow; we had been bombed.