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Your Story: The Kaleidoscope of Youth |
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Our destination was Fulham barracks in London. I liked the barracks. The gates were closed and we were under guard. When I had nothing better to do I used to watch the guards. I did not think they could see me – or for that matter anything else – from under their extraordinary head-gear, that seemed to cover half the face. It would have been easy to escape I though; not that I was considering this. In the barracks, there were beds and food, one could eat as much bread as one liked and each person was issued a daily portion of margarine and jam, and that was just for breakfast. There were two more meals each day. This was a great improvement on the last few months. The Red Cross gave me a blue and white cotton dress, so I no longer had to stay in bed when the one that I had arrived in was being washed.
Once deloused and with our real identities established, we were told that we were free to leave the barracks. I was not that keen to do so. After all, one does not lightly give up the certainty of three meals a days. I clearly remember the bowl of lentil soup which was all we had day after day when we live din Paris. Even if there was a lot of food in London, I did not see how we would pay for it. My father, too, had reached England but had disappeared again and all we knew was that he was somewhere with the British Army. My mother, as yet, had not found a job and we had run out of possessions to barter.
As it was, things turned out much better than I had expected. Living in London was fun. We walked for miles, looked at Parliament and Buckingham Palace. Bombing had not yet started properly. The huge barrage balloons floating over the city created a sense of security. Our life was becoming more normal again and my mother began talking about my going to school.
Words: Lady Danusia Trotman-Dickenson
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