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My family tells a story of how I tried to sabotage the war effort. I was born in 1943 and lived at the time with my mother, maternal grandparents and two uncles. My mother and grandmother would sit me in my high chair as a toddler while they worked in the kitchen to prepare the midday meal. One Monday morning as they were doing the family laundering, I apparently mischievously reached out and grabbed the box of Persil soap flakes that had been left by the sink and sprinkled them over the very small piece of beef that was destined for that days dinner. Horrified at what they found and unable to replace the meat due to rationing, my mother and grandmother proceeded to delicately wash off the soapy meat and prepare it for the men of the family. She tells me she was unable to eat dinner that day and did not relate this tale to her brothers and father until much later. Whether there were any lasting aftereffects from this we did not hear but the story has been repeated many times and gives everyone a good laugh.

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