PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll
Whole village would go up to the big house each Christmas. Mr Gregory would bundle the kiddies in the haycart, the adults following on behind in best suits and hats, all brushed and buffed. There’d be plenty to eat, hams and cakes and the like, beer for the men and port wine for the ladies. Proper bright and shining days.
Then war broke. And there were no men to drink the beer. Poor Mr Gregory passed on the first day of the Somme, both his boys too, though one was underage.
Oh for those bright and shining days back.