大象传媒

MY STORY

My story beings one dark winter night in November 1946; it must have been around bedtime because we were all wearing dressing gowns, by all, I mean Mum, my baby sister Louise and myself. I distinctly remember Mum's dressing gown, it was a lovely shade of baby blue and was made of quilted satin, long with a nipped in waist -she had gorgeous dark hair and the pale blue of the gown made it seem even darker, our gowns were fluffy with collars and rope-ties - mine pale blue and Lou's red......

There was a knock on the dooor, voices and then total confusion - Mum opening letter (telegram?) - tears - wild instructions for us (my sister and I) to kneel and pray to God for help - more tears - Daddy's been hurt!!! It was 25 November 1946 and I was nearly a big girl - just 6yrs 10mths old.

The next few days (or even weeks) are blurred and confused - people coming to the house - stays over with Gran and strangers -adults weeping and tears - tears - tears... Not one person actually told us that Daddy was DEAD and that we would never see him again. Once, I remember, Mum had gone somewhere, it must have been only a couple of days after the dressing gown incident; we were staying with Gran, sitting in front of the fire, me on the floor beside her rocking-chair. She was reading the paper; a picture of Daddy flashed before my eyes and I eagerly pointed it out - her response was a hurried "You don't want to look at that - it's nothing". I've since learned that it was an article in the local newspaper reporting the death of Capt. F. Bowers, Royal Signals in a hospital in Berlin, - MY DAD.

I suppose, on reflection, they (the adults) were only trying to protect us - but, were they really. I remember long afterwards when Mum had re-married, thinking "what will happen now if Dad comes home?" I, being obviously too young to understand, confronted my Step-dad with this concept and even he tried to protect us from the truth and said "Oh! I would just go away" - Poor Step-dad!

How I wish everyone hadn't been quite so protective - I never really knew my father, he was enlisted on 14th February 1943 - I was just 3yrs old and my sister Lou no more than a babe-in-arms at 17mths - He had a couple of leaves and there are photographs, but I have only vague recollections of the happy times. However, even now, an evocative smell (the odour of army serge for instance) will trigger an emotion or an old photograph will reach into the depths of my mind trying to recall the occasion in detail.

My story is not one of evacuation or bombs and blackouts or even food shortages - Mine is one of a confused little girl who was denied the chance to say "Goodbye Daddy - 'night God bless".

漏 Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.