Jard was a 6 year old boy in 1945, his parents had been evacuated in 1939, when he was just a small lump in his mother's belly. He was now eating cornflakes, in the moors of Dartmouth, he was listening to the daily war report, and the second he heard the words: 'we have won the war' he ran up to his parents bedroom. They were of coarse still asleep. He jumped on their bed and shouted, 'MUM, DAD!'
'Ugh it's too early in the morning, go back to bed!' They replied.
'I have news from the war report, it's over. We have won!'
'What?' 'Oh go away stop joking around again.'
'I'm not this time!' Listen to the radio if you don't believe me!'
'I believe you Jard, now, you know the deal, when the war ends, we go back to London.'
'But mum-
'No buts, we are going back, you can get started on school, we'll help you all the way.'
'Fine! What should I start packing first?'
***************
The next day, they had their final walk on the moors, packed the final belongs, and left.
On the train, Jane and David, Jard's parents, tried to teach him some school work, they had a lot of trouble, but blamed it on the six years of no schooling. They went past a lot of farms, fields, abandoned plots of land, and most of all, bombed buildings.
Of course it was a very happy time, but also it was a very sad time. Lots of people had died, or been injured, lost their family, friends, and homes and as Jard was sitting on the train, he had been thinking about all this, and how he was so lucky to be alive, have no friends or family dead, and have his house stay standing. His parents had just moved to England from America and had just bought a house, in the suburbs of London, they didn't know any of their neighbours yet, and their families had sadly all passed away earlier in their life.
