I Remember – 1945 © 2008 Beryl Dyson

What were you doing? In which town were you?
When peace was declared fifty years ago,
Marching or flying? In khaki or blue?
Out in the fields when the message came through?
A kid in short trousers, the sick and the old,
Can you remember without being told?
We sat on a sofa awaiting the news,
Just as we listened to Lord Haw-Haws views.
On the table, a bottle, of gran’s parsnip wine,
Nothing much more, we were rationed that time.
The old black-out blind hung tattered and torn,
Clothes that we wore were clean but well-worn,
Gasmasks in boxes graced the arms of our chairs,
With an old battered case at the foot of the stairs.
More people arrived, some stood near the door,
For gran’s parsnip wine or the news, I’m not sure,
The old wireless crackling, emitting shrill sounds,
Someone twiddling the knobs till the station was found.
Out came a message from dear B.B.C.,
It’s over! It’s over! We all shouted with glee.
Dad uncorked the bottle, a strong man was he,
Then poured out the wine as if it were tea.
A hush, as my granny who seemed to me quite bold,
Raised her glass to “the dear ones who would never grow old”.
Light shone from the house windows, I remember that night,
With no-one to tell us to ‘Put Out That Light’.