johnh Posted June 6, 2014 Report Posted June 6, 2014 Every year, D-Day reminds me of a little incident in my childhood. I was eight years old in 1944 and I was on my way to school. Walking down Walton Hall Avenue towards 'The Crown', which is where the East Lancs Road started. Coming down the East Lancs Road heading towards Liverpool centre came a convoy of American trucks, each one filled with soldiers. I am sure that they were on their way to embark for D-Day. I stood watching them pass when I heard a shout from a truck that hadn't yet reached me. When it came level with me, two soldiers threw a load of sweets which came down like rain. I waved a 'thanks' and started to pick them up. I filled all my pockets but there were still loads left on the ground, so I had to stuff them down my jumper. There were sweets, chocolate and chewing gum, easily several months of sweet rations. I legged it home and unloaded all the sweets onto the table. My mother's jaw dropped open and when I told her what had happened she had a weep. Every year I think about this incident and hope that the generous American soldiers who threw the sweets survived the war OK. Another story on 'sweet rationing'. On the day the Government announced it was ending me and my brother raced up to the local sweet shop to experience the novelty of buying sweets 'off ration'. When we got there we found a queue 20 yards long outside the shop. When we eventually got in we found that the shopkeeper, in an effort to ensure that everyone got some, had introduced his own 'rationing' system. The only problem was that it was less than the official ration! Louis, Romey 1878, Matt and 1 other 4 Quote
Sibdane Posted June 6, 2014 Report Posted June 6, 2014 Thanks for this, johnh. Being an American, I hear/receive a lot of stick about politics, and it often feels like the world hates us. Back then it seems like we weren't just out for ourselves. It's nice to hear something positive. Quote
Matt Posted June 6, 2014 Report Posted June 6, 2014 (edited) Thanks for that John, brought back memories of my Grandad and his tales. Visited the beaches at Normandy a few years ago and had a paddle in the sea. We didnt stay long despite my dads protests, we didnt feel comfortable. His argument was that this was exactly the reason they had fought for; freedom. I got it but still, not comfortable kicking a ball around where countless thousands died, which he understood. We took an ice cream and stared off for a while as a family, knowing that my Grandad only had to had been part of the landing party instead of the Navy and none but my dad would've exisited. Its an intense experience standing there and looking around knowing what happened and what couldve happened. Very sobering. Edited June 6, 2014 by Matt Quote
Popular Post Mogsy Posted June 6, 2014 Popular Post Report Posted June 6, 2014 My grandfather was born on June the 6th and was in the Normandy landings on his 21st birthday so never forget this day. It doesn't bare thinking about what he saw and went through. He hardly ever spoke about it, he was such a quiet man. I could never imagine myself being in that situation when I was 21. So much respect for what they did. Love and miss you Gramps! Matt, Sibdane, rubecula and 2 others 5 Quote
rubecula Posted June 8, 2014 Report Posted June 8, 2014 My grandad was in first war at the Somme Quote
MikeO Posted June 8, 2014 Report Posted June 8, 2014 My grandad was in first war at the Somme Mine was at Passchendaele (and many others) and my dad was just too young for WW2 (born in 1929) but I had two uncles in the navy, don't know if they played any part in D Day though. rubecula 1 Quote
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