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During the war years, my elder brother Albert was not in good enough health to join the forces. However, he wanted to do something to help, so he joined the Salvation Army.
Albert was, in fact a very rough diamond of a man, and religion had never so far been a part of his life. He could always be seen at that time selling the ‘War Cry’ on Saturday evenings in the various public houses around Willesden Green.
One night he woke up and suddenly remembered he had left his bike at the citadel leaning on the railings. He quickly got dressed and walked to the Salvation Army hall — about 1 ½ miles away. To his delight, he discovered his bike was still outside where he had left it. He then went into the hall to say a thank you prayer to the Lord for the safe keeping of his bike — when LO AND BEHOLD — when he came out his bike had been stolen. That then was the end of Albert’s religious convictions. He had to walk all the way home again in the middle of the night and never went to the Salvation Army again.

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