The first time I heard Vera Lynn it was 1938 and I was wanking into a pair of my late father's breeches.
We didn't call it wanking then - we called it shaking hands with Master John Thomas. The cum-sodden items of clothing were to be dispatched to Germany as an example to Jerry of what true British spunk was. Every able bodied man was expected to do his duty in that respect.
We thought it would put the fear of god into Hitler and his cronies, but unfortunately the boat carrying the soiled clothing was sunk in the English channel.
The kind of music we listened to at that time was very tame. The Yanks had songs like 'Do the Crab, Mama' but on these shores 'I caught a glimpse of ankle' by the Barry Masters Big Band and 'Oh Father, will you chaperone me to the dance?' By Mary Williams was about as smutty as it got.
When 'We'll meet again' came crackling over the Radiogram, it seethed with underlying sexual tension. I used to have pretty racey conversations about Vera Lynn with some of my chums in the 4th Armoured Division. We used to discuss how much we'd like to marry her, move to a nice village in Surrey and raise a small family. Those conversations used to steam up the barrack windows, I can tell you.
