大象传媒

LIBERATION DAY; 9th. MAY 1945.

I was born on 10th. July 1942, so was not quite three when this day happened - .the anniversary of which to me, through the rest of my childhood and perhaps even now, had and still has, more potential to excite than Christrnas Day or birthdays.
We lived in Camp Collette Nicolle lane in the Greenlanes. It was a beautiful morning when Mum and Dad, in their best clothes, set off with me in the push chair. I found it quite strange that Dad was out walking with us for walking for pleasure was not very good thing for working men to do as it used up vital energy and induced hunger but I didn't know this at the time and was only intrigued by the novelty of it.
As we approached La CoIinette / La Porte at the top of St. Jacques, I had hoped to see some Germans, for they usually stopped to smile at me and say a few passing words when Mum and her sister walked my cousin and me along that way - this despite Mum's warnings that it was not a good place to linger, owing to the danger of R.A.F. raids, this area being the naval headquarters for the Occupiers. Today, however there was not a German in sight but just some strange looking men in strange looking clothes. They were, in fact, British sailors. My disappointment was quickly assuaged when one of these men, all friendly, came over to Mum and Dad and, before I knew it, had given Mum a piece of 'glass,' which she then persuaded me to put in my mouth! It was the strangest thing I had ever had and had such a strong taste which almost burned me - I was having the first sweet of my life, an acid-lemon boiled sweet.
We walked along past the Richmond Hotel with crowds of Guernsey people beginning to walk towards Cambridge Park. Other soldiers and sailors began to speak to Mum and Dad and Mum was crying. Dad was given a cigarette and was chatting away to these strangers. Little packets of biscuits were dropped into my pushchair and Mum was eagerly opening them and gave me an enormous round thing with patterns on so that I nibbled at my first Rich Tea biscuit.
The crowds were lined about three deep on.Cambridge Park as lorries with big red crosses on them - military ambulances - drove round and round to the accompaniment of cheering and clapping and the sounds of bands playing. By now, this enormous Rich Tea biscuit which I had been nibbling, made my mouth very dry so that one of the soldiers to whom Dad had been talking and who later became a friend of the family, as 'Uncle' George Gill of Army Intelligence, took us into Castle Carey, carrying me down flights of stairs into a room full of ladies wearing headphones and typing so busily that they were not able to speak to me. Uncle George brought me the biggest glass of water I had ever seen - a pint glass, as big as my head!
I think it was later that day - probably the afternoon - we went to Candie Gardens and sat in the old auditorium with its glass roof, cast iron pillars and open sides. On the stage were a number of military figures who one by one, stood up and were clapped as they went up to a microphone on a stand. Each time this stand had to be adjusted according to the height of the person speaking and.l recall being highly amused when it slipped down almost to the floor so that a woman in uniform had to come and adjust it and tighten it before the embarrassed speaker could start agaIn.
I think it was the same day we went to the entrance to Elizabeth College in The Grange, where a crowd of Islanders had gathered. I watched quite bemused as jeeps went past and on to a 45掳 slope towards the Garages and the Rue des Freres and disappearing from sight, to my infantile imagination, were going over some steep abyss. Presumably they completed a circuit and kept repeating this manoeuvre but to me it seemed like an endless convoy of vehicles going to their destruction.
I can't think why, but I seem to remember that day, we went to Les Banques end of Track Lane and sat in a tiny tea room to eat raspberries or some such fruit - perhaps it was tinned - and milk from willow patterned bowls. I was intrigued that the milk turned purple.

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