I was invalided out - a boy when it started and an officer when it ended. I went back to the theatre because I couldn't think of anything else to do.I have a strong recollection of that first Christmas after the War and the period between Christmas and New Year There was mad, lunatic behaviour in Piccadilly Circus Everyone went bonkers I had never seen so many people go bonkers. It was only a relatively short voyage, but it was amazing what friendships were struck up between the children and the crew. We hadn't any extra food on board, so we voted to let them have it; and we took our mess tables up to the upper deck - we were round about the Equator - and served them our Christmas dinner.They were absolutely overwhelmed by this generosity because this was the first time they'd had freedom, although the War had ended in August, and this was their first meeting with white people in over four years.

However, in view of all these refugees on board, a movement grew among the crew that it would seem a little disgusting if we were all sitting down to chicken while the refugees were given normal Navy rations. They were being taken from Padang in Western Sumatra round to the capital, Madana; they were mainly women and children because the Japanese had separated them from the men.We were going to have a Christmas dinner on board and the cook had purchased a load of chickens from the Naafi: each member of the crew was going to have half a chicken as his Christmas dinner, and naturally we were all looking forward to this. We were out in the Far East and we were transporting a group of Dutch ex-prisoners of war who had been held by the Japanese. So, to find this atmosphere of friendship and to have had this amazing coming together of people is something I'll always remember.Bill Leadbeater, leading hand in the Royal Navy.I was on a ship called the HMS Prince Albert. It was a wonderful experience because at that time, only six months after the end of the War, we were still under orders not to fraternise, and a lot of young Nazis in Bavaria were still attacking our troops and laying ambushes on the autobahns. We drank punch, and he brought some cigarettes, which were like currency in those days, and I had some chocolates I remember there were some children there, too.

I remember there was a great big barn, and as we drew near I could hear music. Inside were some circus riders with horses, dancing to music - it was an amazing scene. It turned out that they were either circus people or gypsies, and that they had managed to hide these trained horses first from the Germans and then from the American army, who wanted to requisition all good horses.Robbie knew these people before the War and had somehow got in touch with them, and they had asked him to come along on Christmas night. I can remember very clearly that a friend of mine whom I met there, an RAF officer who had been in the hands of the Japanese, had been in Czechoslovakia not long before the War and had made a lot of friends there.On Christmas night he invited me to drive with him into the Black Forest - it was a very snowy night - and after a while we came to a farm of sorts in the middle of the forest.

It was a masterpiece of culinary deception, accompanied by several glasses of excellent red Algerian. Facing the night again an hour later, a few stars had made a furtive appearance, and hope was reborn.Daphne Park (now Baroness Park of Monmouth), officer in the WTS.I was serving in Germany in the mixed Anglo-American-French unit. For those of us on the wrong side of the barrier, a well-known Soho speciality was bleached horsemeat disguised as escalope de veau. Whether you dined at the Savoy or the humblest of eating houses, the limit was five shillings. As ever, there was huge scope for manoeuvre here, so that many of those unable to take their meals at home did quite well, although the majority fared badly.On Boxing night an amiable young spiv attached himself and led me to a restaurant in Romilly Street. Here, peering through a curtain dividing the privileged few from the rest, I spied one of the guardians of the nation's destiny - instantly recognisable from his many newspaper photographs - who was busying himself with five shillings' worth of pheasant. I had come straight from Austria in the aftermath of defeat, yet here, after a long- delayed victory, the mood was hardly less drab Food shortages were worse than in wartime.