I think, when I was ten, I got to Sheffield with my Grandma on one of the December 12 -14 1940 days of the Blitz when Sheffield had been hit so hard. We had come from Birmingham, New Street. In Sheffield, we had to walk (carrying our luggage) through the bomb-damaged streets (where firemen and rescue personnel were still working) to another station in Sheffield to carry on to Doncaster (where my aunt was living). No one stopped or directed us at any stage of the day - they were too busy. Smoke and desolation everywhere.

My question is, why would we have had to change stations at Sheffield to go on to Doncaster? Did we have to walk far?

This is not a joke - at the distance of 70 years and living in Santa Fe, New Mexico - it all seems like a strange dream but I know it happened. I kept telling my Grandma not to worry!