Zane’s diary entry

7th November 1940

Dear diary,

Buried in my sleep, mum woke me up. I could hear the screeching air raid siren alarming us about the bombs. Reluctantly, I walked downstairs. The air raid siren was whistling like a kettle overheating. Dawn, my older sister, was doing her homework. When she saw us she stood like something bad was going to happen. Mum closed the blinds and the lights.

As mum opened the door the cold wind came running in like a stabbed rat. I put on my torch. Mum said to go under the stairs, I lit the candle. It was so silent that it was like time stood still. Dawn picked up the knife. The house was creaking like a german had stepped in. She stabbed the wall while she squealed, we all laughed.

Then we heard the bombs, carpet bombing. I counted slowly, after every six seconds a bomb dropped. My little sister was shivering in fright. My older sister however, kicked the door open and went outside and started to dance. I went along with her. We suddenly stopped. Mum came out and put her arm on my shoulder. We glared at the bombings. We finally knew that this was serious.

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