大象传媒

I was born two years after the war ended. My father didn't speak very much about it, and he died of alcohol poisoning in 1970.

He came from Newcastle upon Tyne, and was a bricklayer. In 1939 at the age of 20 he was called up and joined the Northumberland Fusiliers. I'm not sure of when, but he then volunteered to join the parachute regiment and was accepted. There are a few stories, but the one I most remember him telling me is when he dropped into somewhere in Italy and got captured by the enemy.

Because he was a parachutist he wasn't treated as an ordinary POW but as a spy. He and the rest of the troup, who were also captured were bundled into a truck and taken into some woods. The truck stopped and the guards ordered their captors out. It was a collective thing, all of the captives realised what was about to happen. All my father ever said was they legged it, fast.

All he ever told me about what happened next, was that he was helped by some people.

In 1956 when I was nine he took me to Italy. We visited little villages in the mountains, and walked through woods. I often wondered how my father - a bricklayer from Newcastle, could speak such fluent Italian, and was so friendly with lots of local people.

I have no photograph, but he was my dad.

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