Another WW2 child’s story

Along the main Coventry road in Birmingham, at regular intervals, stood brick built air-raid shelters. Waiting for my mate and with nothing better to do I was staring at a paper poster on the wall of the shelter next to me. "What if," I thought, "I tore it down in strips, would they stay straight?" The first strip was darn near perfect and excited by my new found skill I began to tear the second strip. That's when the sky fell in and I found myself crumpled on the ground with a terrific pain in my right ear and my head ringing like a church bell.

A booming voice sounded from somewhere above me, "Haven't you got anything better to do?"

Looking up I found the biggest policeman I'd ever seen standing hands on hips over me.

A large meaty hand reached down, grasped my pullover and hauled me to my feet, not too gently brushing me down, "Right, now bugger off and behave yourself."