Bringing home the bacon

My father served in the Royal Navy and, in 1943, was drafted to HMS Bonaventure, a converted merchant ship which was used as a depot or mother ship for midget submarines - X craft as they were formally known. By the end of the war, the Bonaventure was in the Far East and was (I believe) used to transport Australian POWs back home. It was not until late 1947 or early 1948 that the ship returned to home waters and my father was once again able to be a part of the lives of my brother and me. I would have been at school by then, having last seen my father when I was little more than a toddler. I suppose it was hardly surprising that when I was told to kiss my father goodnight, I went straight to the photograph on the mantlepiece, not having registered that this strange man in my life was my ‘real' father.

In those days there were still food rationing and shortages of all sorts of goods in the shops in England but my father had taken the opportunity of buying various items while he was away. There was a dinner and tea set he had seen being unpacked in a store in Sydney. He had told the assistant to stop unpacking it and to repack the rest as he wanted it. It seems almost unbelievable now that the china had been made in Birmingham, sold in Sydney, and returned to England as that sort of crockery was just not available in England. (I learned only a couple of days ago that immediately after the war only white china was allowed to be sold in Britain: coloured crockery was for export only.) My mother still had a few pieces of that set when she died five years ago. My father bought so much while overseas that the ship's carpenter had to make a special chest for it and my father had to get one of his ratings to help carry the chest from the taxi into the house.

My memory of what was in the chest - other than the dinner set - is now very hazy: after all, it was more than 60 years ago! I seem to recall a tin-plate humming top and a clockwork model dodgem car that reversed when it bumped into something - also tin-plate. Neither of these could have been found in England. The chest is still in use, my brother and his wife using it to store blankets and so on, but I fear nothing else survives from that home-coming except for an envelope, a souvenir first day cover sent to my father when he was in Hong Kong by (presumably) one of his suppliers in the colony. I don't really know why I kept it - I am not a stamp collector - but a few weeks back I decided I should try to find out what it is worth. I stumbled across a company that would provide free valuations over the web. All I had to do was scan the envelope and send an email. I received a very swift response. In better condition, the envelope would be worth about £10. I might, I was told, find a less discriminating buyer on Ebay.

So I signed up to Ebay and posted the envelope as for sale with a starting price of £5. It has sold for £12.50 - so my father did bring home the bacon.