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This story was submitted to the People’s War site by a volunteer from ´óÏó´«Ã½ Radio Berkshire on behalf of David Buttle and has been added to the site with his permission. David Buttle fully understands the site’s terms and conditions.

We lived right opposite an Italian prisoner of war camp. I was about 8 years old in 1945. I can remember them bringing the prisoners coming in. They came in army vehicles. They came in drabs, every 2 weeks. Where they came from I don’t know. At weekends they used to let them out, mother (Lillian) used to take one in every weekend. They used to bring over articles they used to carve out of wood to pass the time. We had figures, carvings of animals and then when the war was ended they put on a street party for us. They waited on us. I wouldn’t remember their names.

They were quite well looked after at the camps. My mother’s house was right opposite the guard entrance. From my bedroom window I could see the compound, they had proper huts and a cookhouse. There was a fence round it but no high wire like in German camps.

When they bombed Bristol at that time we could see from Bridgewater the sky light up orange. Mother used to take us down the garden to the shed to watch hundreds of bombers come over. When they used to come back they used to drop incendiary bombs. Two came through the French windows and burnt all the furniture in there. I was in the house, they were fire bombs. Father (Earnest) was in the home guard and he knew how to put it out. I’ve still got the two cases at home. Very few bombs fell on Bridgewater, only ones which were dropped on the way back from Bristol. I will always remember seeing a plane come down into the fields. The local farmers captured the German (1942 — 43).

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