I remember hearing the siren and rushing out to the Anderson Shelter in the garden. My grandfather had erected it, with what I thought was a little help from me. He frequently hit his thumb and I learnt some new words as he bolted the metal sheets together. He covered the the shelter with earth and built a brick wall at the entrance, to stop any blast. It was always damp and cold and we had frequently to bail it out.
At that time if you earned less than £250 per annum the government erected the shelter free of charge, otherwise they charged 7/6 plus labour. Many people liked to stay in the house during raids and so the Governnment brought out the Morrison shelter, which was like a table but was made of metal with mesh sides.
Our bungalow had a veranda and at night the family would sit out on it and watch the London sky ablaze with colour as the incendiaries fell on the docks. Later we watched the doodle bugs chug across the sky on their way to London. There was no mistaking their sound. Occasionally their engines would cut out and we would dive to the ground and wait for the explosion. Later there were the V1, which nobody heard until they exploded.