My Aunty


Margie Hofman 


© Copyright 2019 by Margie Hofman 


Photo courtesy of Pixabay.

Photo courtesy of Pixabay.

Aunty, my mother’s sister, lived in a small house with her daughter-in-law and granddaughter. One evening in 1943 they all went up the road to join her other sister and her family as they were all nervous of the bombing.

Suddenly they heard the Germans flying towards London and thought “That’s all right, they are going to London direct and will not bother us. BUT, on their way back, they decided to unload the unused bombs on the countryside near the sea. Aunty’s little house got a direct hit. She came home and the house was flattened in a circle. They heard a noise and there was the pet canary still in its cage.

The government at that time were running out of accommodation and the family were given a large house because the owners had family in America and decided to go and stay there.

The house was next to a field. We used to go and play there.

One day there was an air raid trying to damage a small airfield near by.  The guns opened up and suddenly a damaged plane crashed and floating down came a parachute. The young man landed in the field. Two local men rushed out and started hitting the young German with shovels.

My Aunty ran out and said “Stop!  He is some mother’s son.  My two are in the air force and I would hope they would be treated with some kind action if they came down.

The men stopped and the police took the young man away. He looked at my Aunty and nodded.

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