- Contributed by
- Silver Surfers
- People in story:
- Trish Bull (nee Perry)
- Location of story:
- Nuneaton, Warks
- Article ID:
- Contributed on:
- 14 August 2003
Just before my 5th birthday, after the end of the war, I had the best present ever, my father. I had never seen my father as my Mum was 3 months pregnant when he was sent overseas. He fought in North Africa and was taken prisoner by the Germans outside Tobruk and transfered into Italian hands.
My mother used to tell me about what was happening to him, how he was transferred again back to German prison camps, although I was only very young I can remember this, she wanted to make sure I knew him as well as I could. I was lucky enough to get a photograph which I treasured.
On the day concerned I can remember my Mum and Grandmother decorating the house with flags and streamers, I sat on the wall and waited for what seemed forever, but as I was so young time had no meaning, suddenly a taxi stopped, a very thin man in army uniform got out, I ran to him flung my arms around him and yelled "My Daddie's home, My Daddie's home"
When I was growing up Dad would tell us stories about his experiances as a prisoner, he was moved about from camp to camp. He used to say he could write a book, unfortunately he developed cancer and became less mobile, I got him folders and paper and said he should write his book. The book was just a booklet as he died at 70. My son printed his Grandfathers book on his computer and copies are now in the Royal Worcester's museum the local library and museum.
(Copies are available E-mail firstname.lastname@example.org
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