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My Mum took me to liverpool Street Station, to 'see Dad off to fight the Germans'. I was about six years old, very upset, very confused and very teaful. A Redcap (Military Police) came over and told me to stop crying and be a big brave girl for Mummy and Daddy. i was six years old for heavens sake!!! some time later Mum and I were on our travels again. this time to Gravesend in Kent. He was ready for embarkation to Europe. It was dreadful, Mum was crying and Dad looked so ill as a result of all his injections. He said he was one of the 'lucky' soldiers. Lots of them had passed out as a result of all their needles. Off he went and served in France, Africa and Germany, ending up at Belsen, a time he never spoke about. Bearing in mind our name, I wonder why. Mum and I were lucky, Dad came home.

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