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15 October 2014
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VE-day in Prestonicon for Recommended story

by Harold Pollins

Contributed byÌý
Harold Pollins
People in story:Ìý
Harold Pollins
Location of story:Ìý
Preston, Lancashire
Background to story:Ìý
Army
Article ID:Ìý
A2100637
Contributed on:Ìý
02 December 2003

VE-day in Preston

Early in 1945, while I was an Unpaid Lance-Corporal company clerk in a unit in Helmsley, Yorkshire, I saw an item in orders to the effect that volunteers were required to be education instructors for what was to be called ‘The Army Education Scheme for the Release Period.’ This was in anticipation of the end of the war when soldiers would be released gradually into civvy street.
As a result I went on a course at an Army Education College at Bamber Bridge, near Preston. (This place was, I heard later, the site of a famous battle between white and black American troops.)
I remember an introductory talk by the Brigadier in charge of the course who gave us some preliminary instructions in teaching methods. One story he told was of a vicar whose notes for a sermon were discovered. It was a well prepared sermon, with clearly-written notes in the centre of the page. In the margin to the left were written various instructions to himself, such as ‘Read such and such part of the bible.’ One instruction, written in thick capital letters in red ink stated: ‘Argument weak here, shout like hell.’
On VE-day we had the afternoon off and three of us went by bus into Preston. We had to be back by 5 pm and later that afternoon we realised that we might be late for the bus to get us back in time. We hurried to the bus stop where the bus was standing. My two friends ran quickly and jumped on board. I was slower and was horrified to see the bus start off before I got there. I managed to run quickly, my beret falling off, and I jumped to get hold of the upright pole on the back platform. I lost my footing, my hand slipped down the pole and I was dragged along. The conductress who was standing on the platform rang the bell and it stopped. I ran back to get my beret, then stood on the platform, panting heavily. The conductress spoke: ‘You shouldn’t have done that. You might have been killed.’
I replied, still puffing, ‘Well, that’s my business.’
‘No it’s not,’ said the conductress, ‘Think of all the forms I’d have had to fill in!’

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