Memories of a Minesweeper

| This is the 422nd story of Our Life Logs | I was born in 1908, the third of four children, two boys and two girls, in Birmingham, England. I can still remember the smell of the city streets before there were cars. Trams and horse-drawn carts trundled past, merchants delivered goods daily, as we lined up to buy coal, bread, milk, and fish from them. If … Continue reading Memories of a Minesweeper

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