Every month the air-raid would sound-off, long and loud, signaling a bomb threat. It was routine, and I didn’t think much about bombs dropping — it was like a fire drill. Of course, I didn’t understand the potential danger of a  nuclear bomb. If I heard the siren alarm go off on a non-school day, I didn’t do anything but take note of the siren. If I was at school, I ducked under my desk and clasped my hands behind my neck, face to the floor. Perhaps a prayer would have been better. (I had desks like this until 6th grade:)

Los Angeles county built these attack-warning sirens in the foothills around the valley where I grew up — all part of the protection we got from the County Office of Civil Defense. Huge, 180-horsepower sirens sounded off as part of our regular bomb drill — I still recall that sound. Here’s the culprit, the one I heard, overlooking La Crescenta, California:

You had to stay away from windows and cover yourself — protect your face and skin from breaking glass, and a sunburn that you would never forget (until you were dead.) But I don’t remember being told this part.

I think the siren was the two-tone sound — going up and then down.

Some sirens were one-tone.

The Soviet Union tested its first nuclear bomb in 1949, and the U.S. thought they might use it. Duck and Cover became part of the Civil Defense Drills that all of us had to practice every month.

They made movies to teach us as well — the famous “Duck and Cover” produced by the Federal Civil Defense Administration. There was a cartoon character — a turtle named Bert that taught kids how he hides in his shell for safety when a monkey waves a firecracker over his head. Hmmm… no wonder I was confused and not too worried.I asked my husband if he remembers doing the drill, and he replied, “of course, it was a chance to see a girl’s underwear.” Yea, we wore dresses. Never thought of that. See, men are visual, even when they’re young.