I didn’t think those drills were done at all in the 60’s. I remember my first grade class in Vancouver, British Columbia in 1954, when the siren went, we trooped down to the basement in lines boy-girl-boy-girl...and put our toes against the wall, buried our heads in our crossed arms. In the first grade, it was more frightening to be wedged between two girls than to think of a fireball of white light. Funny how these thoughts never leave you. I can’t imagine what it must it have been like for kids on both sides experiencing real bombs. Anyway, they stopped doing them and I never did another in my life, just that year of my first grade in ‘54.
Seriously, I do remember the fear of going to sleep at night for years after. The bomb dropping in the middle of the night became my monster under the bed.