After all the celebrations marking the end of the war had died down, life settled down to normal in Malta and we went to school and took part in all the usual childhood activities without the threat of bombs and suchlike.  Then an event occurred which we didn’t like much, my father was posted back to England.  We hated being without him and were really excited when the day came that we boarded the Caernarvon Castle, the ship which was to take us to England to join him.   There were six of us children by then, as my youngest brother was born in January 1946, together with my mother and grandmother.  We loved being aboard ship   it was really exciting although I must admit to falling out of bed one night after begging to be allowed to sleep in the top bunk.  I was happy to settle for the lower bunk after that!   We had a wonderful reunion with my father at Southampton; it was the first time he had seen our new baby brother. Then we were off to Scotland which seemed like a real foreign country to us.  My father was still in the Army at this time, but had been seconded to the Ministry of Supply, working in the Glasgow area.

We lived in a large rented house in the village of Langbank on the bank of the River Clyde.  Our house, which was called Riversdale, was next door to the church and we loved it. It had a large wooden outhouse with a loft which we used as a playroom and a separate peat-store, and backed onto the railway line.  It s a miracle that my older brothers survived this period, they were so fascinated by the railway that they were always scrambling down onto the track and leaving coins and suchlike on the lines for the trains to run and over and squash!  All the trains of course were driven by steam then, and one of our regular games was when we heard a train coming, racing along to the bridge which was about 50 yards from our house and try and be on the bridge when the train went under so that we got the benefit of the smoke!

My two sisters and I attended the little village school, which was just two classrooms attached to the Headmistress’s house.  My older brothers travelled by train (to their great delight) to school in Greenock. We loved our little village school, there was a big fireplace in each classroom and during the Winter months a roaring fire was kept going (this being the only form of heating).  We were allowed to place our school milk inside the big fireguard first thing in the morning so that it was warm when we drank it mid-morning. I still love warm milk, and I’m sure this dates back to that Scottish school milk.

We had our first Halloween celebrations in Langbank, something we never did in Malta. We joined a band of other children, dressed in fancy dress knocking on every door in the village asking to be admitted for our Halloween. Once indoors we had to sing or dance or say some poetry, after which we were presented with a small gift of a cake a sweet or an orange, all very innocent and enjoyable. If today I ever hear the song  ‘We’ll Gather Lilacs In the Spring Again’  I’m immediately transported back to that evening for this was the party piece of the oldest girl in the group and we thought she was very grown up; I think she was about 12 or 13!

As the winter of 1946 took hold we had lots of new experiences, remember until this date we had lived in Malta.   We tried skating on frozen ponds with borrowed skates (not very successfully, as I remember).  We also had our first chilblains what horrors they were!  Then came the most exciting moment of our lives to date, it began to snow, the first snow we had ever seen! We could scarcely wait to get out in it, to make snowmen and snowballs and generally have fun.  Because the snow was so deep my brothers couldn’t get to their school in Greenock and I remember the day they met us outside our school with some sledges they had borrowed and took us sledging on the nearby fields, it was wonderful. We often went reluctantly indoors when it got dark with frozen hands and feet, and my father would take off my wet shoes and gloves and bring life back into my hands and feet with his warm hands it was a lovely feeling. My older sister made a huge snowball which we rolled down the garden path and it stayed in position by the front gate for weeks and weeks. You may remember our house was situated next door to the church, just a fairly low hedge in between. One Sunday my oldest brother called us out into the garden in the early evening where he had amassed a big pile of snowballs. He persuaded us (although I don’t think he had to do much arm twisting) to crouch down behind our hedge armed with snowballs and bombard the churchgoers as they went to evening service.  We were busily engaged in this great activity for quite a few minutes (which was taken with very good humour by the recipients) when we suddenly realised we were being bombarded from the rear   it was our Dad!   He had come along the village street, seen what was happening and decided to give us a taste of our own medicine.   A wonderful snowball fight ensued after that!

Our family made some wonderful and long lasting friends in Scotland   the villagers made us very welcome when we arrived and we were sorry to leave in 1947 when my father was posted back to England and we moved to Kent, the Garden of England but that's another story.

Submitted by Doreen