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By kind permission of the Author

Salvaging was currency with us,
Both fun and lucrative at one fell swoop.
Clean washed jam jars at a ha’porth each,
(Tizer bottles fetched a ha’penny too.)
Saving bottle tops and empty cans,
Flattened cardboard boxes stacked in piles,
Newspapers too, no thought of fire hazard,
Unpicking woollens to be knit again
All grist to the mill. Acquisitive, we gave
No thought to how our elders felt until
We saw our grandma’s face, that iron day
The salvage lorry came to take away
Her precious gate and railings round the bay.

‘This story was submitted to the People’s War site by ´óÏó´«Ã½ Radio Merseyside’s People’s War team on behalf of the author and has been added to the site with his/ her permission. The author fully understands the site’s terms and conditions.’

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