Surrounded by retired air chief marshalls and other top brass at the Shoreham Air Show, I explain how even kids learned to recognise the contrasting engine sounds.

They knew the sounds of the Messerschmitt 109, Dornier 17 and Heinkel 111.

My listeners look suitably impressed. Only those of us who actually witnessed the Battle of Britain in 1940 could discuss with such authority the frightening firepower of the German Luftwaffe.

I was nine years old when the sirens sounded for the first time on September 3, 1939.

Organiser Don Bean and his team of volunteers do a marvellous job staging the Shoreham Air Show.

It all began in a car park at Shoreham Airport in 1985 and is now one of the biggest in the country.

Last year, they raised £70,000 for Royal Air Forces Association charities and expect to do even better this time.

Crowds flocked in over the weekend to watch Spitfires, Hurricanes and other surviving warrior planes of the Second World War perform aerial acrobatics, reminding us of the Battle of Britain 60 years ago.

I would have loved to tell the spectators how we used to lie on our backs on summer days and watch dog-fights going on overhead.

We were relatively safe as evacuees in the Hertfordshire countryside, but the carnage going on 30 miles away in London was so horrific we would often hitchhike home to check whether our loved ones were still alive.

Night raids were the worst. Time and again the East End was turned into a gigantic fireball. The noise was hell on earth.

Imagine lying on a mattress, clutching a blanket inside a dank and poorly lit concrete shelter, while outside heavy anti-aircraft guns fired shells every few seconds.

Interspersed with the ear-splitting crack of artillery came the deep rumble of bombs.

It shattered buildings and shook the earth in what seemed like a never-ending earthquake.

Schoolboys like us found war both frightening and exciting.

We did our best to appear brave when our mothers and sisters, shaking with fear as bombs landed nearby, clutched hold of us.

My own family was "bombed out" three times, though spared injury thanks to the air raid shelter.

One of our neighbours - he was related by marriage - preferred to stay in an armchair by the fire.

He lost an eye when the mantelpiece fell on him.

I'm sorry to say that there was nothing glamorous or heroic about those of us not involved in the battle.

Mostly, people simply went to work, eked out their rations, smoked too much and got on with their lives.

The real heroes were the RAF pilots we have been honouring over the past few days.

Terry's battle of words It's a brave man who would dare take on my old colleague Terry Wogan in a battle of words at the BBC, as senior producer Stuart Murphy is discovering.

Murphy is under fire for calling Wogan arrogant and out of touch. The genial Irishman had suggested in a Radio Times interview that the Beeb was buying people rather than ideas and then putting them on the air every ten minutes.

"It doesn't know what to do with them, or sticks them into everything they can to get their money's worth," grumbled the DJ, who is something of an icon at the BBC.

In my time I often upset people at the top who objected to my accent, but Wogan had no such problems.

I used to refer to him sardonically as He Who Can Do No Wrong.

Mind you, Wogan is not infallible.

His star has waned at the Television Centre, which ex-plains his return to Radio Two, though he still makes a bob or two as the presenter of Auntie's Bloomers and the Eurovision Song Contest.

More to policing than extra PCs I learn from a reliable source that Sussex Police are much farther ahead in their hunt for the killer of Sarah Payne than might be supposed, though they aren't able to divulge details.

Good news indeed. We all want to see the evil person responsible behind bars. An arrest and conviction would give a tremendous boost to the campaign by Sussex Police to promote good relations with the public.

This presents Chief Constable Paul Whitehouse with a dilemma. While the public is clamouring for more policemen on the streets, the police view is that random patrolling is not the best way to beat crime.

"More bobbies on the beat cannot be an end in itself," Mr Whitehouse says. "Very high among our priorities is to need to improve our effectiveness in targeting criminals and tackling problems that lead to crime."

There are signs of a revival in police fortunes. Recruitment is at its highest level for years and the fight against crime is showing better results.

The trouble with in-laws Tony Booth, the Scouse Git who drove Alf Garnett potty, has been upsetting his son-in-law, Tony Blair, by demanding restoration of the link between pensions and average earnings.

The PM said: "I don't think it would be the first time I've had a bit of grief from Tony."

That goes for a few of us. Years ago Tony Booth was what we called a 'Loony Trot', - a left-wing firebrand inspired by Leon Trotsky.

But he's a lovely character. Ellen and I have fond memories of sharing a cottage in Bourne-mouth with him and Pat Phoenix, of Coronation Street.

She married him in 1986, days before she succumbed to cancer.