To the editor:
War in Europe broke out in September 1939 just nine days after my 11th birthday.
I was aware my paternal grandfather died at the Battle of Gallipoli, Turkey in 1915, and that my father, turning 18 in August 1916, served in the trenches in France for two years.
This terrible war ended with the armistice of Nov. 11, 1918. It became known as the First World War (Note: the 1981 Australian film Gallipoli is well worth watching at this time.)
My memories of the Second World War (WWII) were recorded in my daily diary, often written in an air-raid shelter in Edinburgh, Scotland with anti-aircraft guns firing at German bombers flying overhead to bomb the ship-building yards and Atlantic Sea terminals of Clydeside near Glasgow.
War in Europe ended in May 1945. This extract from my memoirs illustrates the post-war euphoria in Britain.
“As I turned 17, WWII had just ended, and I was listed as a spare in the organ society’s booklet. On the afternoon of Christmas Eve 1945, a small red post office van drew up at my parents’ home in Edinburg. The driver sought my services to play the evening service at Fountainbridge Church where he was an organist.
“The GPO had a policy of delivering all mail before Christmas. There was a backlog at the sorting office, hence his request. The minister told me he didn’t expect a large congregation. He was wrong. Across the wide cobbled road was the Palais de Dance.
“Word got around of a service in the church and dozens of dancers crossed the road to fill the large church to capacity. I pulled out every stop on the organ to make it heard over the lusty singing. I believe the outpouring was a release after six years of war.”
Neil Duncan
108 Mile Ranch
