大象传媒

As you walk up Charles Street, one of the main thoroughfares in Leicester from Humberstone Gate, there is a large building on the right hand side. It used to be the Council Offices but during the war, I remember visiting the there with my Mum. We went down this big yard into a door on the right, then into the lift to the top floor and join the queue. When we got to the counter, my Mum was given a tin of Oster Milk and a waxed-over packet of dried egg powder. The only time we had a fresh eggs was when the chickens in the back garden laid them but on one day, we got back to town and my Mum asked me to fetch something from the yard, but instead of doing what I was told, I went to the chicken coop to see if there was any eggs and this big cockerel just flew at me and pecked me just above the left eye. I was rushed to the infirmary and was told that had the peck been half inch lower, I would have been blinded. I never went near those chickens again and was quite content to eat dried egg for the rest of the war.

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