- Contributed by
- broom2
- People in story:
- Herbert James Broomhall
- Location of story:
- Birmingham
- Background to story:
- Civilian
- Article ID:
- A2855379
- Contributed on:
- 21 July 2004
In the early days of the war my Father and Mother, my brother and I were to be found in the Anderson air raid shelter that my Father had erected in our garden. It was concreted in with a blast proof entrance, steps down and a protective door, a masterpiece for someone who was a sales clerk. We used to lie awake listening to the bombs and shells, and the drone of the planes as they bombed our City. When Mother decided she would like a cup of tea Dad would creep up the garden and into the kitchen and feel about in the dark to make it. He was a heavy smoker and even on these occasions had a lit cigarette in his mouth.One night on such a excursion into the house, he had a nasty shock. As he bent over the table feeling for things in the dark, he suddenly saw a burning cigarette end coming straight at him and he ducked to avoid it, but in the eeriness of the night and the bombing which must have put his nerves on edge it gave him a real jolt. The explanation was so simple and afterwards caused great mirth - his shaving mirror on a stand was on the table and what he saw was the reflection of his own cigarette end!
My Mother was a devout born again Christian who trusted God to keep us safe. Every night she would pray for protection for her home and family. Most schoolboys in those days came to school showing off their shrapnel found in their gardens. My brother and I searched our garden high and low and never found even the tiniest bit of shrapnel. Coincidence?
The local men were to be trained in firefighting, particularly in relation to incendiary bombs. The night before German planes dropped a stick of them right up our road, and the local men learned fast! Enquiries from neighbours made it clear that there had been an incendiary in every garden in our stretch of road, but none in ours. Coincidence? Try telling my Mother that, if you make it to heaven that is - and you can if you choose to accept that the Lord Jesus died to forgive your sins, and accept Him as your Lord and Saviour. The joy of being a Christian excels all others - and I speak from over 60 years of experience.
© Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.



