Thanks for the link to the story, Ron. Reading it reminded me of a story of my Mum's. She was at her sister's visiting when my eldest brother was an infant - some time between Nov 1944 and May 1945. A bomb or rocket (sorry cannot recall exactly) - fortunately a dud - came through the roof of the house landing in the lowest level. Whilst debris and glass flew, no one was injured. The netting over the bassinette, in which my brother was sleeping, was covered in shattered glass.

When visiting us in Canada, during a horrific Prairie thunderstorm, another of her cousin's told me that she and her husband had been married on a Saturday, and on the day his marriage leave ended their home was destroyed by a bomb. They were standing in the reinforced entryway kissing goodbye. She said while it was a miracle that they survived, she was always afraid of the sounds of thunder and lightning afterwards, as they reminded her of the sounds and feelings from that day.

Michelle