Dad’s coming home

When the war ended, I was only eight years old, so I don’t remember much. I remember my mum was crying when we got home from school and she told us dad would be coming home soon. The war was over.

We lived in a village in Nottinghamshire, so everyone got together, women baked, all the children collected stuff and a huge bonfire was built. We had a party as the fire burnt.

We carried going into the air raid shelters at night, it was great.

Mrs Wilson, child during WW2.

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