The Devil's Advocate wrote:I fondly recall one Sunday morning, back in the day, when the siren went off (obviously a malfunction or human error, probably the second) but I rushed into the room to see if there was anything on the telly, but the short time it took me to realise Armageddon wasn't happening that day, it was forever engraved in my memory.
I grew up in North Manchester, my parents' house overlooked the city from a hill about 6 miles away. I vividly recall hearing the siren going from time to time, clearly drills of some sort, but spooky as hell and a little confusing as I'd only ever heard that particularly haunting form of siren in black & white WWII movies.
I also recall at about age 7 being absolutely terrified by a news report which explained the various degrees of damage if a typical Soviet device were to detonate over Manchester.
And yet I still handled it better than Generation Snowflake handles anything.