大象传媒

My father went of to the war in 1939. After his initial training he was sent into the REME as a motor mecanic. That was the last we saw of him untill 1945. He was then Captain Firth.
During the war there was a large air raid shelter right out side our front door, but my mother would never go into it during air raids.
She used to say that if she was going to die it would be in her own home. Instaed we would go under the stairs. My mother said that when ever houses were bombed the stair was nearly aways left standing. So that is were we spent most nights througout the war.I used to listen to the adults talking at night and the most common saying when air craft went over was " its OK its one of ours" they knew from the sound of the engins what kind of plane it was. The thing that still sticks in my mind was the sound of the air raid syrons to the day I still turn cold when ever I hear one. I remember that the all clear as it was winding down would sound like some one running thier fingers over a piano key board.
My mother used to get letters from my dad. tThey were in the form of a photostat about six inches square. My dad at that time was serving with the desert rats in the desert. There he was mensioned in dispatches to the king. In was not untill he was 86 just 18 months before he died that he would tell me why. But only then did he just give me scetchy details. It turns out that he walked into a mine field to guide out a collom of lorries that had wondered in. He got them all out apart from one wirerless truck whick blow up.
The letters that we sent to my dad he used to make note around the outside figures of casualties ours and the germans and other little notes about the was. I still have somr to this day. I have one or two other things he carried during his time in africa and later in Itali from where he was demobed. I remember that night he got home. I saw the taxi pull up outside our house. I was playing in the street. I went into the house and this man stood there in uniform, a complete stranger. My mam turned to me and said "this is your dad"to me he was just another man I did not know what to say there was no bond there. It took many years for us to become father and son. There was always some thing missing. I sill moarn for the dad I never knew.

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