A London Interlude The war not quite over.
In June 1945 I was rushed into hospital and almost straight onto the operating table, three days later I was back on the table again for further operations of which I do not have much memory. My first real memory was waking up feeling so ill that I hoped I was dying to get it over with. A wounded soldier from the next bed was holding my head over a dish and saying get it up you will feel better, I may have done if there had been anything to get up. ...
For the rest of this story click on the attached Comments
Frank
For the rest of this story click on the attached Comments
Frank
posted by Anonymous at 2:55 pm
3 Comments:
Frank - couldn't have been you good looks down in London - must have been your dancing.....
Frank
I very much enjoyed reading that piece. Well written end evocative of a bygone era. The time of spivs and Pashas, those awful oval cigarettes.
Hi Audrey
I see that you now must have read the FAQ since your Comment. I got your request to join and you have been sent an invitation to do so.
Post a Comment
<< Home