Brought up firstly in Dagenham before moving to Belfast, Ted Tierney, who was born before the Second World War, recalls his schooldays.

With progression through school I realised all too soon that the men in sailor suits (a reference to the sailors on the ferry) were not wearing children's outfits with intent only to amuse. But with the astuteness of children knew not to question the mantle of Santa, especially if productive adults were on the scene.

Then came geography. At first I thought that geography was only an arts class, to impart colourful impressions onto paper. But things took a different turn when being told in all seriousness that there was iron inside mountains.

So while walking back home from school, as the local Cave Hill came into view, I thought how odd it was for the workers of Belfast to make up iron girder scaffolding to make up a mountain. The workers in Dagenham making cars made a lot more sense.

On realising that we had an accent, in those days rarely heard in Belfast, I soon learned how to speak properly. With 'Aye' being the proper word for yes. M'Da and M'Ma easy to acquire, with 'Mummy' the worst aberration of all bringing on some dark looks.

Being taught at a Christian Brothers school was a happy time, especially with the singing classes which required no academic stress, but holiday time, oh what joy.

Energetic street games galore with most road traffic of the day no problem, the traffic easily outrun. Every evening arriving home (and to bed) utterly exhausted to the delight of our parents.

However, as the time neared to take the school Leaving Test the 'what if I fail' thoughts began to mount. The arrival of the Air Raid sirens put paid to all that, casting all those fears aside.

No school, gas masks, evacuation and no sweets was one thing. But sensing the unspoken fear in the faces of the adults around us caused some slight unease.

Evacuated from the town brought yet another world to our fingertips. The beauty and freshness of the countryside, sounds and smells and yet another accent ringing in our ears.

All bolstered by the continuing absence of SCHOOL. New songs to be learned, stories to hear and kindness from everyone all around. New friendships to be forged, unending walks around country lanes.

Blackberries, heather, bluebells the perfume of turf fires, freedom of the fields and soft bogland, farm livestock, small creatures of the wild all heady stuff along with timeless meandering at will.

Then the onset of teenage years arrives at last, as does the end of this epistle as best remembered as from the eyes of a child.--- That's it, from Des and Ed Tierney.

Ted Tierney, Co Antrim, 2001