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We walked home each day from Findern School to Stenson. Two six, or seven year olds, with little idea what war was all about. A few army huts, a single gun and searchlight in the far corner of the field next to the row of cottages we lived in, was the closet we got to the reality of the situation. We saw the posters saying WALLS HAVE EARS, and were convinced that Jerries lurked in wait, listening for us to give away vital information! All the arms had been removed from the old wooden signposts, and finding your way in a strange area was almost impossible. As Peter and I reached Gypsy corner, by the end of Frizzams Lane, we saw a very tall man on a very small motorbike riding towards us, his big khaki overcoat flapping around his long legs. He stopped and asked us the way. We looked at each other and sent him in the opposite direction! We had both decided he must be an enemy. When he had gone Peter had said 鈥� Did you see the Swastika sign on the inside edge at the bottom of his coat?鈥� I wasn鈥檛 convinced, as I had seen nothing, but I was not going to admit it either.

The poor man was probably a serviceman trying to visit his friends in a strange area, I have often wondered who he was and if he had found the right way.

Towards the end of the war German prisoners came to work on the farms to help with the harvest. After years of being told how big, ugly and evil all Germans were I was amazed to find that they looked like ordinary people, spoke a little English and were glad their fighting days were over.

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