A Texan VE Day

On VE Day, 1945, I was 6 years of age and my parents took me to the West End. We went through the West End and down to Buckingham Palace, where we saw the King, the Queen and Winston Churchill. By then I was very tired so they said, “It’s time to go home.”

We walked across the park, Green Park I think it was, and we got on the Underground, probably the Piccadilly line at Green Park station, to go to Manor House. I can’t remember walking across the park but my father always knew the most convenient tube station and line! The Underground was absolutely packed and being 6 years of age, I decided to entertain everybody. The only song I knew all the way through was ‘Deep in the Heart of Texas’ - I have no idea why I knew it - so I stood up on the seat on the train and started singing that song. Unbeknownst to me, all the American troops on the train were from a Texas regiment and they went absolutely mad. They were clapping and shouting, and the next thing I knew they all came up to me as we reached their station (King’s Cross, I think), and started giving me money. I had so much money that, well at 6 years of age, I thought I was a millionaire! There were ten shilling notes, pound notes, two shilling pieces, two and sixpence pieces, everything. They were just giving me money! It was unbelievable! I can’t remember what happened to the money, but obviously my parents took it off me and I believe it was put in the bank. The soldiers weren’t wearing fatigues or a dress uniform, but a smart one of a greeny-khaki colour which American troops used to wear, and they all had a big Texas flash on their shoulder but I didn’t realise that beforehand. To the best of my knowledge, I’d never done anything like that before.
It’s something I’ll never, never forget - that day and that regiment. That’s why I’ve called my story ‘A Texan VE Day.’

We didn’t go up to the West End very much during the war because it wasn’t all that safe, and part of the time I hadn’t been living in London because I kept moving round the country, either to keep me safe or keep me out of mischief, whichever way you like to look at it! For most of the war I was living in Alison road, Hornsey, North London, where I still live, but for part of the time I was evacuated. First of all, I went to Portland in Dorset which was one of the most dangerous places in the country, being a big naval harbour. I then came back home before going to live with my father’s brother at Great Baddow which is just outside Chelmsford in Essex, for about a year. Then I returned home and for the last part of the war I was here when the doodlebugs and the rockets were coming over. I used to stand and watch them.

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