One Sunday afternoon, during the second world war, I was sent to the front room of our house to look for soldiers. they were battling through the snow, which was nearly up to their knees. some on crutches and some with arm in a sling. They'd come by Midland Red Bus from Marston Green Hospital to Birmingham. They wore washed out hospital uniforms, R.A.F blue very faded. The tall men鈥檚 trousers didn't properly cover their ankles and the short men鈥檚 concertina'd over their shoes.
They jostled each other as they came through the front door in Small Heath. Mum and Auntie Muriel came to greet them. we all went thought to the back living room and got them seated at the indoor air raid shelter. The "Table" came in handy for a number of people, about ten of us.
The hospital had send mum some money for food, the rest she provided. We were fortunate that Grandad Bentley had relatives in the USA, Australia and South Africa. We'd get very big tins of fruit now and then, which mum kept, also hams. Once open the hams were difficult to keep as we hadn't a fridge, I think some were given to the neighbours.
Once tea was finished we went through to the front room. The soldiers got out the photo鈥檚 of their families. I was interested in the children of my age, which was eight. One R.A.F. man asked me to sit on his knee. I said 鈥 not thanks I don鈥檛 feel like it a the moment but it鈥檚 not because of your leg鈥.( he鈥檇 only got one leg). All the men laughed and said 鈥漷hat鈥檚 put you in your place Bill鈥.
Auntie Muriel kept a visitors book, which she took back to Halifax, Yorks. A few years ago I tried to trace her and Uncle George but they weren鈥檛 the right Margatroyd鈥檚 in the book.
I鈥檒l always remember the front room with us all sitting knee to knee. The flames from the fire lighting up the men鈥檚 faces on that cold winters evening. There countries were so far away. Poland, France, Canada, Australia. I like to think their English friends gave them some happy memories as well.
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