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We were staying in Falmouth with a great uncle, First Class Petty Officer Kinsman as he once had been. He had fought at Jutland during the Great War. We often spent holidays with him.

One night towards the end of the war, we were woken by the sirens and hooters from the ships in Falmouth Harbour. The noise was terrific and continuous; we guessed the reason, dressed quickly and made our way down to the town.

Great rejoicing was going on. Some Chinese sailors were carried shoulder high through the streets. Eventually we made our way back up Killigrew Hill to my uncle’s house. When we reached there, people were standing at their doors. The scene was lit by lights from the houses. From someone’s radio came ‘Land of Hope and Glory’. My mother had been a professional singer and I will never forget her singing the words to that music in her beautiful soprano voice. People listened in silence, some with tears in their eyes.

Like our family, some had lost relatives. We lost an uncle in Penang. He had lost his only son in the Western Desert.

I remember that night. I remember also the hospital trains coming into the station with their ashen faced passengers. I remember also that the same station being badly bombed with loss of life.

At school we lost a fine young master in the RAF.

I saw in the night sky the great armada with its gliders on the eve of DDay. Finally I remember the lights going on again and the peals from the church bells proclaiming the end of the war.

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