大象传媒

My clearest memories of that period centre on the Victory celebrations. there was the day, overcast skies, when our street, Forester street, was suddenly ablaze with fluttering things suspended across the road, like so much red and white and blue washing. people of all ages were in the street, dressed in their best clothes. Children raced about excitedly, while grown ups stood by, laughing and joking. Down the centre of the road, near Hill Brow, was a long row of tables and chairs. men, women and children began sitting at the tables then, without warning, my father placed me in a high chair near one end of the row. slowly surveying the scene, I became by turn, astonished, bewildered and horrified. Surely my father didn't expect me to eat food surrounded by strangers? I wished to escape, to find "mummy" but I was trapped. Yet when I did see my mother there was no comfot. for she, the traitor, was carrying a huge wooden tray, from which she was serving food to other children.

Lastly, one day during the celebrations, my father took me to the top of green Lane and held me aloft, above a crowded pavement. in front of us was a slow moving line of noisy, oily and hot vehicles. they were open topped tanks and jeeps and they must have been part of a parade. The rank crews and other soldiers were smiling broadly and shaking hands with people from the crowd. suddenly a pretty young woman clambered onto one of the tanks and kissed one of the soldiers. Yes 1945 was truly a memorable year for all of us!

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