大象传媒

As I was not born until 16 August 1943, I remember little about the Second World War. I was born in a thatched cottage in Nether Heage, Derbyshire and lived there until 1948. My father was in a "reserved occupation", meaning he wasn't called up into the Armed Forces. Instead, he spent his days helping to produce wire at a works in Ambergate, and his spare time in the Home Guard (Dad's Army). I can remember him wearing his uniform and being collected by a lorry from outside our cottage, and wanting to go with him. As the War had finally ended the day before I was 2 years' old, the Home Guard must have continued for some time afterwards. He told me that during one night shift at work someone had left a chink of light showing which lured a German bomber to let off three spare bombs on his way home from bombing Sheffield. Some of the men went into Ambergate Wood to see if they could find something as only two had gone off. Next morning they found the crater close to where they had been looking.
One of the other bombs went off near to Over Lane, Belper and killed a donkey - it also blew my cousin's father-in-law off the outside loo! Fortunately he was unhurt.
I can remember my sweets being rationed after the war, but we were lucky in that my Mother was able to make clothes for us from the good bits of her old clothes. This way she was able to swap her clothing coupons for food coupons. By the end of the week they ate sandwiches made from just bread and jam, so that we children could have the butter.
Mother's youngest brother, Arthur Gordon Gadsby, joined the Sherwood Foresters, eventually being sent to Singapore. He was captured by the Japanese, and died in Kinsaiyok Camp in Thailand on Monday 26 July 1943, aged 25. We always asked what had happened to Uncle Arthur and my father told us that he had died because he didn't have enough to eat.
Ten years ago I was shocked to read in the Derby Evening Telegraph that he had died of dysentery, and that his grave had been seen by Colonel Harold Lilley. I have since found information from the Commonwealth War Graves Commission web-site that he was moved to the War Cemetery at Kanchanaburi along with all the bodies from the southern section of the Burma-Siam railway.
I never knew this uncle, and can only imagine what he and his comrades must have suffered. My mother never celebrated VE Day - the war with Japan was not yet over. I was too young to go to the parties and she also kept my 4-year old brother away as she felt so much grief at the loss of her brother. Whenever there was a War Film on the TV she could never watch it

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