大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by Claire White of 大象传媒 Scotland on behalf of Robert Mooney and has been added to the site with his permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

In 1942 I was seven years old and living in Glasgow. Like every kid, you bemoaned the scarcity of sweeties. You got one sweet coupon per week from the ration book to take to the the newsagent. If you were lucky, the newsagent would give you a McGowans toffee bar in exchange for your coupon. Most of the time there wasn't any chocolate, marzipan, caramels or boiled sweets available.

One winter night my Uncle Wullie came to visit us at 84 Dykemuir Street in Balornock. Uncle Wullie brought a small brown suitcase with him. He walked into the middle of the living room and plonked the suitcase down on the dining table. The whole family gathered round. Uncle Wullie opened up the suitcase and it was filled with dozens of giant bars of Cadbury's milk chocolate. I stood with my mouth open because this was the most wonderful sight I had ever seen.

I wanted to jump in and eat the chocolate until I turned green, but the suitcase contents were divided between family and neighbours. My mother was kind-hearted and had rules and principles about that sort of thing. The chocolate lasted for weeks because it was carefully rationed.

Uncle Wullie was a cook on a merchant navy ship that travelled between Glasgow and New York. In the USA there was no shortage of anything and, through some double dealing, he returned to Scotland with a suitcase full of booty!

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