One of my earliest memories of Yarmouth was going with my mother down the High Street, and seeing the German P.O.Ws walking down the High Street.  I guess it must have been at the end of the war or just after, but they had the diamonds on their clothes and typical German field caps.

Another memory that really sticks with me; we had been given a lift, my mother was taking me to Newport. Transport was very meagre in those days, and we’d got a lift with a friend of the family in a coal truck, in the front.  And this coal truck used to deliver – I guess they picked the coal up from Yarmouth from the quay – delivering to the Hamstead POW camp – this sticks in my mind.  We drove into the camp through the gates, and at that point, when the lorry got in the camp it broke down.

I remember the lid of a vehicle up, and a huge host of German soldiers gathering around. One young soldier,-  even to me as a small child, he seemed young,-  held a kitten up at the window of this truck, showing me this kitten.  Now as I’ve got older I realise the vehicle wasn’t so interesting, but my mother was. She was quite a looker with red hair, and I think it was the excuse to see a lady.  I have no idea how we got out of that situation, but that incident just sticks with me. Rod Corbett