- Contributed byÌý
- wee_Joyce
- People in story:Ìý
- Joyce and Mary Neil
- Location of story:Ìý
- Queens Park, Glasgow, Scotland
- Background to story:Ìý
- Civilian
- Article ID:Ìý
- A8153633
- Contributed on:Ìý
- 31 December 2005
May 8 1945
Some places and date just stick in your memory no mater your age; such was May 8 1945. I had just had my second birthday the month before and my father, serving with the British Forces in North Africa, had sent me a bouquet of daffodils as a present. Some say you can't remember things at that early age, but I'm of the opinion that if the image is intense enough you will remember.
The day was warm and sunny and mother and I had decided to make the most of the beautiful spring weather and take a walk south to Queens Park in Glasgow. I loved the spring, as everything was so dynamic and new. Spring flowers were just coming into their full riot of colour and the smell from the blossoms on the trees was heady even at that age.
We had circled the lake with the beautiful white swans and were getting ready to head back to our home to start dinner when suddenly there was a different air to the park. People were becoming more animated. Suddenly a "Bobby" raced over to us, "Mother, have you heard the news?" he cried as he approached. Normally, alarm would have been the reaction when you saw a Police Officer running, but this man had a jubilant air to him. I remember the look of surprise on my mother's face as she stood open mouthed, just staring. When he reached us he grabbed a hold of her hand and then mine; had his smile been any wider the top of his head would have fallen off as he told us his news. "The war is over." He laughed as the tears streamed down his face. "The war is over," he yelled! Suddenly we had all joined hands and started to dance right there in the middle of the park as the swans glided silently, unknowingly past in their majestic parade across the lake.
It took a while for his news to register on my young brain. This meant no more air raid sirens, no running for the shelter with the smelly rubber gas masks, no more terror, just flowers and peace - forever. Now I would not have to worry that the "Germs" were going to come out of the hedges in the park and shoot me if I forgot to wash my hands. What a wonderful day; every day should be as bright, warm and as much fun as that final day of the Second World War.
© J R King March 18, 2003
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