大象传媒

I can vaguely remember my mother making knickers from the silk parachute acquired from the Junkers 88 plane crash at Upcott Farm. I hated them! They were soft, but big and floppy, and certainly not white, but a yellowy cream colour. I never knew if this was due to ageing or the natural colour of a parachute. No-one else had them, so I was different. I never wore them unless it was really necessary. I think also my mother made a blouse or two for herself, although I have learned since, that the making of such clothes were not allowed.

For all my childhood years, before the invention of 鈥渟elotape鈥�, all our packages were tied up with the silky strands pulled out from the parachute ripcords. As a young child I helped to pull the fine strands from the cord and roll them into tiny balls. It seemed to go on for miles, and often became tangled. It was put to very good uses at Christmas time, but I remember having great difficulty in securing the knots, as the thread was so fine and slippery! Someone was always required to place a finger on the knot to hold it secure before the second knot could be tied. Short lengths were used to tie the Christmas decorations onto the tree.

I had no idea how the parachute worked, or what the cords were for. It was not a subject for discussion, but something that always seemed to be there, pushed away at the back of the drawer. I think my parents regarded the pieces of parachute as a great prize, valued enormously in those early post war years. Times were obviously hard and anything, which could be re-used, or salvaged from another situation, was a natural progression towards perceived economic survival.

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