A Fish Supper.
Rationing was at it's height at the time of my story and there was little to put on the table.
I was probably about 13 or 14 when returning from school one day, I got off the bus by the fish & chip shop opposite the then Melbourne cinema. An open lorry was delivering fish packed in ice in open boxes, at my feet was a very large flat fish, which must have fallen from one of the boxes. I picked it up and pushed it under my coat and ran to my home in Hart Road. My mother rebuked me for stealing but the fish ended up in the kitchen sink being washed and prepared for a feast. No-one knew what it was but it certainly tasted wonderful in those hard times.
At some time, probably about 1941, a billeting officer came to our door seeking accommodation for RAF personnel.
Both my elder brothers were away in the forces, one never to return, and we were told that as we had a spare bed in my room, we must take one airman for a given period.
The airmen were being trained as boot repairers in local factories.
We had two billeted with us at different times and we had to provide them with a breakfast and evening meal; extra rations and a few shillings per week were made available for this purpose.
I know that my mother exchanged Christmas cards with one for many years
By D. Neal