大象传媒

Ny earliest memories are of the war. It seemed then, that there was very little else of any importance.
My parents were living in Priestfield which is just outside Wolverhampton and close to Bilston. We lived in a terraced house which backed on to the Mars Iron Works. There had been serious air raids on the Midlands and I had my first memorable experience around autumn 1941.
My mother took me to the shelter in the street. It was one of those brick ones with a dog-leg entrance door. After sitting there for a while, bored and mischievous, I slipped away to the door. There were a few men standing there and I could see out between their legs. Almost immediately a string of incendiary bombs struck a row of houses almost opposite. At almost the samr moment I was dragged back into the shelter by my mum. The next morning we all went to look at where the bombs had landed. There was this funny burned smell everywhere and in one of the houses, clearly visible, was a charred and blackened banjo. To me it seemed the ultimate war souvenir but I was led along protesting.
For all the things that have happened in my life, the great experiences and the wonderful life I have led, that banjo still comes back to haunt me.
Shortly afterwards mum and I moved back home to Ireland. We crossed from Heysham to Belfast on the night ferry and arrived about seven in the morning. As we docked we came alongside another ferry (possibly the Glasgow one) which was packed with service girls.. WAAF's and the ATS i think.. and on that cold grey morning they were standing in row upon row on their ship and singing "When Irish Eyes Are Smiling". That is an enduring memory. I only have to hear the tune and I'm back on that ferry 60 years ago.

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