My mother told me about a holiday we had during the Second World War, in St Ives in Cornwall. I myself had no memory of it. My father was rarely at home during the war, serving on the works side at various military airfields in southern England. But they managed to take a short holiday with me one year. Maybe I was two or three years old. And St Ives, not an obvious target, then received its only air-raid during that war. A German aerial attack force returning from Coventry, a munitions target, made their return by a more westerly route. They dropped a bomb on the gasometer, causing an explosion.
