大象传媒

Before D-Day in 1944, I was a twelve-year-old schoolboy. It was an exciting time - spotting aircraft, seeing tanks on exercise, and watching the Commandos in our village, who were billeted in several pubs and other local establishments. They sometimes carried their Commando knives strapped around their legs.

I was able to recall the sight and sounds of RAF planes. The Mosquito was my favourite, which often did some hedge hopping in our area. The Lancasters passed overhead from their Lincolnshire bases, having flown inland, then turned outward-bound to enemy territory. We counted what seemed hundreds.

'Somebody is in for it tonight,' my Dad would say.

Quite by chance, I was at a busy railway junction near my home when an American troop train pulled into the station and the engine began to take on water. I walked along the track side by the train, and the American soldiers on board were anxious to find out where they were in England. I said, 'Twenty miles from Nottingham,' and spoke of being near Sherwood forest. They all seemed to have heard of Robin Hood. Then came the goodies - bars of chocolate, and a doughnut or two. Believe me, these were rare treats in those days.

More conversation, then the whistle sounded as the train pulled away, en route eventually to the south coast. Word spread, and the subsequent trains had quite a schoolboys' welcome. The station staff then made us leave the area, and we watched from a nearby bridge.

I should add that the occassional British troop train came through, and we only managed to get a corned-beef sandwich, which was tasty then.

After a few weeks the troop trains ceased. When I later read of the D-Day landings, and the great loss of life at Utah and Omaha beaches by the Americans, I wondered if I had spoken to some of those friendly, and generous men.

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