大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People's War site by Jenny of The Stoke CSV Action Desk on behalf of Arthur Lowe and has been added to the site with his permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

Adventure stories, especially science fiction, I read extensively during my teen years.With the formation of the Local Defence Volunteers, forerunner to the Home Guard, came my chance to volunteer, was accepted and became a dispatch rider, probably because I owned a new bicycle.
Our company's task was to man a Pill Box located at the junction of Moston Lane and NuthurstRoad, Manchester and CHQ was the Simpson Memorial building on Moston Lane. My main duty consisted of carrying messages between our post and CHQ.
It was my second night on duty that I cycled to CHQ to pick up the rosta for the following week. On reaching the building I could not see a sentry. Intruders? My youthful imagination worked overtime. Hiding my bike in the privet hedge I moved stealthily to the rear of the building and climbed through the ever open toilet window.
Once inside I sidled along the passage wall, entered the kitchen and paused nervously, listening for sounds of movement. A long, agonising minute passed; tense and trembling I inched forward. Suddenly a brilliant light dazzled me, mounting panic gripped me.
"Who are you, what are you up to?" The voice was loud and menacing.
I tried to sound angry, but my voice faltered.
"Who are you? You shouldn't be in here." The torchlight vanished and the ceiling light came on revealing a person of about five foot in height. He looked hard at me, then; "Aren't you one of Albert's lads?"
I nodded, dazed.
"Well, you cheeky,young imp, I am your Uncle Tom, Your Dad's brother. I take it you are our dispatch rider?"
Again, I could only nod; a normally chatty kid, confusion and residual fear held me tongue tied. Being the tenth born of eleven siblings, the only uncle I knew of was a maternal one.
Explanations over, Uncle Tom gave me a welcome cup of tea. He, I suspected, was the sentry and mentally I chided him for leaving his post. Discovering an uncle was exciting, but excitement soon faded, for less than two years later, I was a Far East Prisioner of War.

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