´óÏó´«Ã½

One night one of my Brothers came home on leave, when the rest of us were in bed. We had acquired a dog in his absence which promptly bit his leg.
What an home coming!
When the war ended I remember the bonfires in the streets and the men, who had survived, were dancing round with their wives and sweethearts singing;
‘We’ll make a Bonfire of Old Hitler.’
Mine was probably a happy war, as I was too young to appreciate the enormity of it all, but was glad it was all over. Walking up to the Clock Tower and seeing the Bovril sign switched on was better than the Blackpool illuminations. I miss the sense of community and despite its privatations the humour in those dark days.

‘This story was submitted to the People’s War site by Rod Aldwinckle of the CSV Action Desk on behalf of Ruth Burford and has been added to the site with her permission. The author fully understands the site’s terms and conditions.’

© Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.