At the outbreak of war in 1939, my dear father was in the local North Staffs Territorials and was sent down for training on Salisbury Plain, before embarcation for the continent. He came home around Dunkirk time, I believe, health shattered, but survived.

My dear mother and I came to spend a few weeks in a nearby village – I think the name was Wingfield? The family we stayed with were named Ray. The father was an old soldier and the daughter was named Doreen. I remember her lighting the way upstairs at bedtime with a candle and I was frightened of the shadows.

I went to the village school for that little while. Everyone was so kind, and the following Easter, when we were back home, a box came by post for me – so exciting.! It was from the schoolmistress and pupils, an Easter egg, chocolate but surrounded by primroses, packed in moss.

I have never forgotten it, but sadly have never managed to get down your way again, but very warm regards.

Patricia Garrett (nee Colclough), Gerards Way, Ashley, Market Drayton.