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Memories of VE Day began for me the year before the end of the war.

I belonged to a local concert party with the usual mixture of artistes, comedian, singing duo, monologues etc. My part was to sing and tap dance to popular numbers.

We had an evening booking at Nottingham General Hospital (Hogarth Ward).

The party arrived to find the corridors full of wounded soldiers, also a huge, round ward full to overflowing with the same sight, very upsetting for us all to see.

We were asked to continue with our performance as best we could so, amid the chaos of wounded soldiers, stretchers, bandages etc, we did. To be honest I think we were the last thing these poor souls wanted to see.

None of the party were prepared for the sight we saw of the soldiers, many still with mud on their boots, arms, legs, heads swathed in bandages, often with blood oozing out of them. Yes, a very disturbing experience, and in those days we had no TV coverage to prepare us for these sights.

On returning home I fled to my bedroom and sobbed until my father came to comfort me and explain to me about life, war and people. A great help to me at the time.

Because of the distress it caused me, and unbeknown to me, my father contacted the hospital the following day and asked permission to take me back to see these soldiers when their wounds had been attended to and generally been cleaned up.

The hospital staff, doctors and nurses must have worked very hard, even through the night, because the difference from the previous day’s concert party visit was truly amazing. All the soldiers had been cleaned up and dressed in nice clean clothes but many were still waiting to be shaved.

There were many shapes in plasters: legs, arms, torso and all bandages lovely and clean. The hospital corridors had been cleared and were all spick and span too. It was as though the day before had never happened.

My father talked to the soldiers and began to make notes. It followed that they required magazines, newspapers, cigarettes, paper to write home (many with their arms or hands in plaster needed help to do this.) My father’s idea was that anything I could do to help them would also help me get over this experience.

So began the task of knocking on friends’ doors and asking workmates collecting cigarettes, magazines etc. I made visits to the hospital 3 or 4 times a week to take these gifts.

As the soldiers’ injuries improved I took them by bus to Long Eaton where I lived.(Wheelchairs were left at the flower shop near the bus station). They visited my Mum at home for a cup of tea and sandwiches. (How Mum, on rations, was able to provide this amazed us all). With the hospital’s permission some were allowed to stay overnight, all sleeping in one room either on chairs or the floor. They were very happy to do this for a change from hospital routine.

In the mornings Father’s duties were to help those with arms in plaster to shave etc,and the soldiers who were able helped each other.

One day our visit to a cinema caused quite a fuss when 8 soldiers arrived still with arms, legs etc in plaster casts. Trying to accommodate and seat them all was a real event!

On VE Day I took my sister Joan to the hospital to join in the celebrations. Some soldiers had been discharged by then so numbers were smaller but with those who were left we listened to Churchill’s speech sitting on beds and eating cake that my mother had made for them.

After the speech we heard many funny stories of their experiences especially from 2 Scottish lads who came from Peebles. Later Mum and I were honoured and pleased to be invited to Chalfont St Giles to the wedding of one of the soldiers, Jimmy, to his girlfriend Mary. Pleased to say we are still in touch with them.

So, thank you to my Mother and Father for caring and guiding me through the war period. I am sure this is what helped me to work for local charities. Working with members of my adult education ‘Keep Fit’ classes I have raised money for many causes around Long Eaton. This I continued to do until I retired aged 74 years.

I shall always treasure these wartime stories and memories.

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