大象传媒

This is Philip Lords story: it has been added by Jim Lord with permission from the author who understands the terms and conditions of adding his story to the website.

Come on, my sister Jean said. There is an American convoy coming through the village, let's go down to see it. I was put into my pushchair strapped in securely and was pushed down Tower Road Earl Shilton to see the soldiers in their lorries. We parked ourselves right on the kerb, and with quite a few others we watched the convoy as it made its way through our narrow High Street. Unbeknown to us, we had come out in such a rush, that we had forgotten to latch the gate. Eager to find us our black spaniel " Tess" rushed down the road but could not stop at the bottom, and we watched horrified as an American lorry ran straight over her. My sister was crying as an American soldier got out of his lorry and pulled Tess on to the other side of the road. We could not cross the road owing to the volume of traffic. Across the road was Balls the butcher's, he had seen what had happened, and he went straight to Tess. Unfortunately there was nothing he could do for her, he shouted across the road that he would put her in a sack and tell your Dad to come and fetch her. We did not see the rest of the convoy, we went home very sad. When our Dad came home from work he was told of the tragedy, he and I took the barrow down to fetch Tess home for the last time. She was buried in our garden and it was the time of the year when daffodils have to be planted. Her grave was planted with daffodil bulbs, and when we left that house some years later that patch of daffodils reminded me of the dog that I lost.

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