- Contributed by听
- Liz Bartlett
- Location of story:听
- Tilehurst, Reading, Berkshire
- Background to story:听
- Civilian
- Article ID:听
- A5924379
- Contributed on:听
- 27 September 2005
1945
It is VE day (Victory in Europe) and there is a party going on in our street. People are kissing and cuddling. People are dancing. I am dodging about between the grown-up legs, amazed at all this unaccustomed night time activity. There is a bonfire on the green, Vera Lynn is singing on the gramophone which is perched on somebody鈥檚 wall and my Dad is looking for me; I should be in bed. Our house overlooks the green and I can see the bonfire from my bedroom window. Eventually I get tired and get into bed but the celebrations go on long into the night.
One day, coming home from school, my brother and I see marching soldiers. They are Americans who are billeted in a camp not far from the school. They throw us sweets; little boiled sweets with holes in the middle which we have never seen before. The next day, in school, we are each given a tin of drinking chocolate to take home. It is delicious and we dip our wet fingers into it all the way home. It is much nicer than the cocoa we are used to.
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