大象传媒

87 is the number of my house - not my age - I'm 69. I was nearly 9 when my Dad came home. For 6 years there had been just me and Mam so I wasn't happy when this "stranger" came into our home. Of course I had no idea then of the terrible ordeal he had been through.
My little brother was born the following year and I loved him. Dad was very strict when we were growing up - especially about not wasting food (understandably).
After my mother died I helped Dad with his laundry etc. and he came to us for Sunday dinner. We grew closer but he never talked about his war experiences. It wasn't until I was clearing his house after he died (aged 90) that I found his diaries and felt so sad reading about his terrible march to freedom.
Even though he survived, the long separation of the war years had an effect on our family.