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New Cumnock, during the war years, had nothing of strategic or military value, yet from time to time soldiers appeared. Two such were Lal and Emil. Lal Aylott — Albert, to give him his Sunday name — was a lance corporal in the Service Corps. He and his squad were billeted in a local hall, and neither they nor we knew why.

My mother felt sorry for these young men, many of whom were homesick and apprehensive about the future. She invited them in batches to have supper with the family, although this was difficult at a time of food rationing. Lal became a firm favourite with his quiet manner and his loving stories of a wife and family left behind in London.

He and his fellow soldiers were missed when they moved on. It was much later that we learnt that they had been waiting to embark at Gourock on ships that were to carry them to do their part in the North African Campaign.

Lal never forgot my mother, and he kept in touch over the years. He returned to Scotland to visit his old friend when she celebrated her 100th birthday, and at that joyful reunion the intervening 50 years just melted away. He still keeps in touch with me now that mother has gone. He is now in his eighties — but to me he is still Lal, the young soldier who crossed our path over 60 years ago and gained a special place in our hearts.

Emil Eisele was also a soldier — a German prisoner of war who was billeted at Pennylands Camp in Auchinleck. For some obscure reason he was brought with others to New Cumnock, where they spent their days on a vacant site over the hedge from our house.

As my mother watched them come and go, she saw only young men far from home and loved ones. Just as she had treated our own soldiers, she offered her hospitality to the POWs. Many a full teapot and batch of scones, or whatever could be spared from our rations, was handed over the hedge. It was usually Emil who collected the goodies, and although he and mother had no common language, they forged a link that lasted long after the war.

Always at Christmas came a card and letter, both signed: ‘Von ihr POW Emil Eisele’. It fell to me to translate the letters and send a reply in my best, albeit stilted, Cumnock Academy German. Eventually, the cards stopped coming. Who knows why? However, although Emil was a German, he was never a foe. Like Lal he was just a young man conscripted for a job that led him to New Cumnock and a Scottish lady who offered her humble, non-judgmental friendship.

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