I have never forgotten the night spent in the cupboard under the stairs in our Poringland cottage during the 1942 Baedeker raids.

My mother's relations had arrived the previous day to avoid another night of horror in Norwich and we all were accommodated like peas in a pod.

As the bombs rained down on our village we huddled under the stairs and I for one felt our last moment had come as the old cottage shook like a jelly for an hour or so. We all survived, severely shaken and next morning our relatives hurriedly departed, glad to return to the safety of home.

MORE: Poignant service remembers the victims of the Baedeker Raids in NorwichI was despatched on my bike to try to retrieve my father's horses which had all decamped in terror during the night. My task was complicated by the closure of roads surrounding the village by bomb disposal squads removing unexploded bombs, but I was pleased to return much later with all but one of our animals — the missing one having been killed in collision with an army lorry as it careered away in the darkness.

Life then was able to continue as normal.

Peter Buller, Lime Close, Harleston