Dad's Homecoming

I was born in 1943 and my brother in 1944 so neither of us had any recollection of our father until the end of the war.

We lived with my mother's parents in a terraced house in Long Street, Stoney Stanton, Leics and all that we knew of Dad was that he was away from home in the war.

He was actually in Port Said in Egypt working as a medical orderly in the Medical Corp. He used to joke that the only medal that he won was for topping the batting averages one summer in Egypt - but he would never talk about the men that he helped to treat that were injured.

The only "contact" that we had was the monthly food parcel. Dad always seemed to be able to give up some of his cash in return for tinned fruit or vegetables and these would duly arrive once a month with a letter.

Living with my grandparents, my Mum, brother and me all had to share one bedroom. And then the night of the homecoming. I think that it was in 1946, but I remember lying in bed with my brother when we heard the sound of metal footsteps ringing out on the pavement, to be told by Mum that "this is your Dad coming home".

Of course, we had never met this person called Dad and so my brother and myself hid under the bedclothes and never did see him until morning.

Needless to say, it was a strange feeling living with Dad for the first time - not made any easier living also with our grandparents.

However, soon the house next door came up for rent and in we moved. My Mum and Dad remained in Stoney Stanton for the rest of their lives and died in 1997 aged 83 and 87 respectively and, other than brief hospital stays, had never had a night apart from that homecoming on.

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