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This story appears courtesy of and with thanks to Liverpool Diocean Care and repair Association and James Taylor.

At the age of 6 years I was sent with my yonger brother and younger sister to a farm in Llanidloes.
Nobody wanted to take three young chldren the eldest being 6 years old all together.
so two sisters agreed to take us. My brother and I went to one farm and my sister to the other farm. We all went to the same little school.
My dad who was in the Cheshire Regiment came to see us once in Wales when he was on leave before he was sent to Africa.what with the rationing back in england my dad asked for ham and eggs for breakfast, dinner and tea.
when he left Wales he was suffering from carbuncles and boils on his neck with the richness of the meals.
I enjoyed my stay in Wales on the farm and I kept in touch with the two sons and daughter of the people that I stayed with.
It was a working farm so there was plenty of jobs to do around the place- milking, collecting of eggs, sheep shearing and the like. the farm also had an orchard so we always had a good supply of fresh fruit.
Mr Davis the farmer was a master butcher so he could kill his own animals. I used to go with his old Ford car into Newtown on Saturday to sell butter, chickens, eggs, fruit- it was a good life.
I didn't want to come home.
I have been back a few times.
the farm is still there - run by one of the sons.

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