Alhough I have not seen Bill for many years, as with anybody who has a huge influence upon one's early years, he has never been far from my thoughts.
Bill for me, is synonymous with all the joys of childhood. Living in the countryside, free to roam unrestricted without a care in the world, I and my older brother - along with almost every other child in Kersbrook - had an idyllic life. Exploring, making 'hides' and rafts, which never would float properly, 'scrumping'; spying on unsuspecting adults, it was really Bill's dad's farm that was the icing on the cake. Digging potatoes; collecting eggs; talking to the cows in the milking-parlour and watching Bill's mum making clotted cream in the dairy and playing 'chase' through the myriad of sheds and barns it was a magical place to be. And Bill's birthday parties, huge fire burning in the massive fireplace and a table piled high with what can only be described as a feast, were legendary!
When I think about the young boy Bill I can hear his laugh and see freckles, bright shining eyes, and a cheeky grin. Never silent or sullen, walking the couple of miles to and from school with him was always a pleasure.
There was a war on but I don't think we were really aware of it until the day we walked down the little hill to the farm and found an absolute crowd of American soldiers with all their equipment settling into one of the barns. For the next few days it was like Christmas! Giant cans of peaches and pineapple; peanut butter, which we had never tasted before, box after box of chewing-gum and numerous pairs of nylon stockings were pressed upon us with instructions to, "Take these home to your Mom". When we got the gifts back home I think our Moms were even more pleased and surprised than we were.
Childhood doesn't come much better or more carefree than mine was so, thank you, Bill, without you as my friend it wouldn't have been half as much fun!
God bless you.
From Joan (Acland) Rogers.
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