Story 3

We all slept a little late; Mother cooked bacon, eggs, and fried bread for breakfast, which I hungrily wolfed won so I could go into our back garden to play—just like any other Sunday.

and the only adult other than my Mother and Father who talked to me as though I were a grownup and not a ten-year-old boy

"Why are we going to have a war with Germany, Mr., Threfall?"

Yes, please, Mr., Threfall."

"Have you heard of a man named Adolf Hitler?" he asked, taking a bit of his fruit.

Meanwhile, Britain and France did nothing, believing Hitler's assurances that this wold be the end of his territorial ambitions in Europe

"I think I understand now, Mr. Threfall, "I said.

They were exasperated at their government's do-nothing attitude and it's total failure to prepare for the coming confrontation.

"We're at wear, Mr. Threfall," he shouted as he ran. "We're at war!"

After about ten minuets had passed the wailing broke out again, only this time it was a single, high-pitched note. "That's the all-clear signal," dad said. "Well be alright now." Mum sighed with relief.