Hello Jo, The street parties at the end of WW11 will never be forgotten by those of us who enjoyed them.  I certainly have memories as clear as if it were yesterday.  Someone would offer their piano and a few strong armed men would manhandle it into the street and the singing and dancing would continue well into the night and no-one thought to send us children to bed or even keep an eye on us so we had a whale of a time!  Earlier that day everyone would have brought out any spare wood or anything that would burn and a bonfire would be kept ablaze for hours in the middle of the road, food which had been hoarded during the war was generously pooled and it all made for a night to remember.  My overrriding feeling was of absolute joy that  hopefully it wouldn't be too long before my father would return from the war after 4 years away.  Most of my friends father's returned before mine and I was very envious of them but at last my turn came and I was given the customary day off school to celebrate his safe return.  Memories which will last to the end of my days. Janet

On Thu, 13 Jan 2011 20:36:11 -0000, Janet Cuff <bgmjcuff@yahoo.co.uk> wrote: > The street parties at the end of WW11 will never be forgotten by those > of us who enjoyed them. I certainly have memories as clear as if it > were yesterday. Someone would offer their piano and a few strong armed > men would manhandle it into the street and the singing and dancing would > continue well into the > night and no-one thought to send us children to bed or even keep an eye > on us so we had a whale of a time! Thanks for sharing your memories of the street parties at the end of the war with us, Janet. My sister told me a little about the parties for homecoming servicemen, which she attended. She said that my Dad was always in the band so she danced with my Mum. My Dad played the piano and the accordion, so I expect that he was much in demand at these parties. I have just dug out some of my Mum's memories from that time. Here they are: When the end of the hostilities came, we couldn't believe it, we had become so used to hardship that one could not think that life would ever be normal again. There were street parties. We were still rationed, of course, but somehow the tables were filled with food. There was dancing and singing in the streets and we made bunting from odd bits of material that had survived the war and strung these everywhere. The goodwill was wonderful and we were glad to be alive. The party spirit went on for a long time and, as each man was demobbed, a party would be held in that street with all the flags flying to welcome the hero home. When our own prisoner-of-war came home after being five years away, he was a stranger to his children. At first, they didn't know who he was because he didn't look like the picture of their Daddy, which they had kissed every night of their short lives. The suffering was there. He had been on a long hunger march and was very changed. He didn't look like a young man any more. Josephine -- Josephine Jeremiah www.ianandjo.dsl.pipex.com