Leave that wasn’t

I was meeting my boyfriend (later husband) coming back from leave at Street Station, it was sometime before 1942. He was in the army based in Norfolk. I was in Fenchurch Street when London was first set alight. The siren went off and I made my way to Liverpool Street station, and lucky enough he got off the train. We got a bus to Barking but couldn’t get any further, so we had to spend the night in an air raid shelter already packed with so many people; we had to stand all night. You could hear the bombs dropping, the ground shook so much people fell over. The next morning my boyfriend phoned his regiment, and they told him to return to Norfolk.

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