大象传媒

Canterbury had a large open-air swimming pool and before the war, my Dad, a local baker, would often take me swimming there, with me sitting in the metal frame of his trade bike, normally occupied by a great basket. Early in the war the pool closed for reasons I can't recall, but connected with an outbreak of polio, then termed infantile paralysis and I remember feeling very anxious when about this time we were given some form of prophylactic treatment at school, including a throat spray, which left a long-lasting unpleasant taste.
The pool however was left filled and although taking on an uninviting green hue, continued to be used by boys and girls and I remember at least one occasion, close to D-day when our swimming activities were joined by a number of Canadian soldiers who seemed very glamorous to us with their well-cut khaki battledress and attractive accents. One man really caught my eye, he was dark-skinned and very handsome and a daring diver to boot, making the creaky old spring board really work. He wore a blue bathing slip which I realised later was of nylon, one of the new synthetic fabrics new to us. It made our baggy woolen costumes look very sad and we were extremely envious of this film-star-like figure.
Like the author of another schoolboy memory, I later wondered how many of these fine young men finally returned to their homes.

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