Something to Remember: Winnipeg woman recounts childhood in WW II London

When Winnipeg Fort Richmondresident Peggy Halsteadwas born in the U.K., the Second World War was just beginning.

Her recollection of growing up surrounded by bombshelters, the sound of guns, food shortages and constant explosions is laid out inTeddy 'N' Me,a book Halstead wrote about being a child at the time of war.

With Remembrance Day approaching, Halstead shared an excerpt of the bookwith CBC's Terry MacLeod.

It's explains why one man comes to her mind each year on Nov. 11, even though she met him once, decades ago, asa little girl at London Bridge station.

"I do not know his name. In fact, I do not remember meeting him. But, every year I think of a small gesture that became a family legend," Halstead said, reading from the book.

She calls the story the only memory from war her mother would ever talk about.

"I don't know where we were coming from or where we were going, but halfway up the dark, damp stone staircase the air raid sirens sounded and almost immediately came the sounds of planes overhead and the thud of bombs exploding."

Halstead said at that moment, her mother picked her up and ran to the station forecourt.

"The semi-circular forecourt was lined with shops with double-fronted windows [and]deep doorways Mum ducked into one of these doorways with me;terrified,screaming, in her arms. There was one other person in the doorway: A policeman, whoalso had taken shelter there," she said.

"Mum tried to soothe me, but I was nearly hysterical with fright and beyond soothing. In those days, people with essential jobs; firemen, air raid wardens, policemen, were issued an extra ration of chocolate bars to keep up their energy."

Halstead described thechocolate bars as "thin, mere slivers, really. Six little squares of fairly unpalatable chocolate."

"But with all sweets being strictly rationed, they were something civilians rarely, if ever, saw," she said.

"According to my mother, as I cried inconsolably, the policeman reached into a pocket, pulled out one of these chocolate bars and handed it to mum, saying, 'Here, Mrs. Give this to her. She needs it more than I do.' He walked out of the doorway in search of other shelter or to carry on with his duties."

Halstead said she barely remembers it, but the familiarity with the area she gained by growing up nearby allowed her to visualize it later in life.

"The only real memory I have is a fleeting impression of my mother trying to quieten me, putting something unfamiliar in my mouth and the taste of chocolate mixed with the saltiness of tears."

Decades later, Halstead is still emotional while reading the experience out loud.

"It overhwhelms me," she said.

"Every Remembrance Day I think of him, his generosity, and I say a silent, 'Thank you.'"