LET'S GO 1951.

CHILDREN AT PLAY IN 1951 AT ALDERSHOT BARACKS

Go sit outside
in the sun,
Auntie said,
don't be stuck inside
on a day like this.

So I went outside
and sat
on the black
iron steps
leading down
the stairs
from the balcony.

Dancer Auntie's dog
sat beside me
his chin
on my shoulder
wetting my shirt.

The parade grounds
were on my right,
sergeants
were barking orders
to soldiers marching below.

I stared at them:
heads turned,
arms straight as irons.

Then Elsie,
Auntie's friend's daughter,
came up the stairs,
one foot at a time,
her small hand
gripping the black
iron rail coming up.

I watched her
stepping towards me,
her head downwards.

Dancer growled;
hush,
I said,
raising a finger.

He groaned,
watching as the girl paused.

She looked at me:
why is he here?
She said,
pointing at the dog.

He's protecting me,
I said.

From me?
She said.

Guess so,
I said.

Send him away,
she said.

Dancer groaned;
go lie down Dancer,
I said.

He got up
and walked along
the black iron balcony,
and sat
by the back door.

Elsie eyed me,
then walked up
the remaining steps:
Mum said
I had come
play with you,
Elsie said,
looking down at me
as I sat.

Do you want to?
I said.

If I have to,
she said,
sitting down
beside me
on the step.

If I don't
I'll get a slap,
she added,
looking at me.

What you want
to play?
I asked.

She looked out
at the soldiers
marching below:
what is there
to play?
Have you dolls?

No no dolls,
I replied,
we can ball
if you like.

She pulled
a face:
boring ball games,
she said.

I can get one
of my toy guns
and we can play
cowboys and cowgirls,
I said.

Boring boys' game,
she replied.

What do you
want to play?
I asked.

We could play
hide and seek,
she said,
you hide
and I won't seek you.

I looked at her
5 year old face
with my 4 year old eyes.

Let's ask Auntie
for some milk
and biscuit,
I said,
and listen to the radio.

She nodded
her head
and we got up
and she said:
let's go.