In those days we all burned coal to heat our homes. The choice was stark; either freeze to death or stoke up the fire and put up with the fogs of the winter months. This particular Christmas Eve such a blanket of impenetrable fog lay across the land. It was a real pea souper and all forms of transport soon ground to a halt.
Like most other people, I cut short the customary work place celebrations and made for home early, on foot. Several of us, who were heading in the same direction formed up into happy band of travellers and braved the elements in good humour together.
'Who's leading us?'
'Jenkins.'
'Bloody hell! He's blind as a bat.'
'He says he can smell his way home.'
'Crikey! we'll end up in the gas works.'
And so the jovial banter went on for a mile or two until the cold bit into our ears and the horrible smog stung our throats. Gradually our number thinned as people turned off to go their separate ways home and then, at last, it was my turn to wish my friends bon voyage and a happy Christmas before turning left along Church Lane towards Glade Street where my house stood. The fog seemed to be getting denser with every step and very soon I realised that I was completely lost. The only sensible thing seemed to be, to carry on walking until eventually either I bumped into some familiar landmark or met some other traveller who might be able to put me on the right path. I stumbled on shivering with cold and having to stop to cough at more frequent intervals until I could go no further. Then as I sank to the ground cold and exhausted, I noticed the faintest of glows coming from a few yards away. I struggled to my feet made one last effort towards it. There it was in all it's glory, a house with all lights blazing as if to act as a lighthouse in this sea of smog. Somehow I managed to get to the front door and slumped hard against it.
A lady asked if it was those carol singers, again? And would they like come back later after supper and sing round the tree for them.
Somehow I managed to gasp 'Help.'
The door opened.
'Oh! you poor love,' the lady exclaimed 'Sid, Len. Give us a hand will you?'
Sid and Len, two big youths, practically carried me in and set me down by the fire.
'He's all in, Ma.' Len said, but Ma was already on the way with a glass of brandy.
'Drink this up, love, and you'll soon feel better.' She said
Looking round the room, I could see that they were half way through their evening meal.
'Don't let your food go cold, please, I'll be fine sitting here near the fire.'
'Set another place for him, Dad.' Ma said to the old gentleman sitting in the corner
'Oh no! I couldn't really,' I said 'I wouldn't dream of imposing further on your kindness. As soon as I get some feeling back in my legs, I'll be on my way.'
'You aren't going anywhere in this weather and certainly not on an empty stomach,' Ma directed me to the table 'let it be never said that the Merrymans refused a lonely traveller shelter and sustenance .'
'That's right Ma,' Dad said 'come on lad tuck in.'
What began as 'Not much of a meal really.' In Ma's words, was as welcome as a banquette to me.
'The babies are sound asleep, upstairs.' Ma said pointing at the ceiling.
As I looked round the table at them all, Ma and Dad, the two sons and their wives. I couldn't help but think that this is what Christmas is all about:: the family; no matter what the circumstances: a time of coming together, if only for once a year.
At around midnight, a breeze sprang up and the fog cleared.
I thanked them and said I'd better be on my way.
'Where do you live, son.' Dad asked
' Glade Street,' I said. Then seeing their puzzled faces I continued 'you know the little road off here.'
'There's no Glade Street off here.' Len said
'This is Church Street, isn't it?' I asked
'Church Street is miles away.' Dad said and Len added 'Yes, about four miles away, to be precise.'
'Don't worry lad,' Dad said 'Len will take you across to the garage and Charlie Lockhart will get you a taxi.'
In less than an hour I was safely tucked up in my bed and soon asleep. Next morning I related my adventure to my wife.
'People are kind, aren't they?' she said gently
'Well, they certainly were. I think I'll go over there this morning and thank them again.'
'What a good idea! I'll come with you' she said ' Perhaps we could take them a little gift. Will you be able to find the house again?'
'I know roughly where it is and we've got tongues in our heads. There's a garage, opposite.'
After a few enquiries here and there we finally found the place. I recognised the garage but strangely there were no houses at all on the other side of the road.
We pulled onto the garage forecourt
'Are you sure this is the one?' my wife asked
I was asking myself the same question when Charlie Lockhart came out of the house next door.
'Certain,' I said 'that's Mr. Lockhart.'
'I'm sorry, sir,' He said 'but we're closed for Christmas.'
I wound my window down.
'Happy Christmas Mr. Lockhart.' I said
'Do I know you, sir?' he asked
'Yes, if you remember I came in late last night and you phoned for a taxi for me.'
He looked puzzled.
'Did you say last night, sir?'
'Yes, Len from over the road brought me in.'
'Len, from over the road?' He asked. Then he hesitated for a moment, leaned down and said quietly.
'I don't think so, sir.'
'I tell you he most certainly did. You must remember ' about midnight ' I was lost in the fog and the Merrymans took me in until it lifted.'
'You say the Merrymans, sir?' he asked
I nodded.
'Yes the Merrymans,' I said ' Ma and dad. Len and George their wives and the three babies.'
He looked very uncomfortable.
'Last Christmas Eve.' He started 'One of those V2 rockets hit their house and blew the whole lot of them, babies and all, to kingdom come.'

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