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My father had told me many times about the celebrations for the relief of Mafeking in the Boer War. The day the 1st World War ended, as a 5-year old I was sent home from my school in Coventry to celebrate; I passed Belgian refugees hanging out flags. So in the 2nd World War I always hoped I would be somewhere with great celebrations. In May 1945 I was in Italy just outside Verona, washing my shirt in an irrigation ditch. There were not many of us as I was in the advanced HQ of the 5th American Army. A British soldier came along and said 'The war finito' and then repeated it louder. I said 'Thanks mate'. He said 'I'm sorry I thought you were Italian.' And that was how I learned the war in Europe was over. No party. All we thought was 'when shall we be going home?'

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