Remember When? reader Gerry Hird shares memories of a wartime childhood in the district

SOME time had passed since, at the commencement of the Second World War, my parents had decided that I should be evacuated to a farm on Baildon Moor, thus being away from Bradford, which they thought was bound to attract German bombers.

The fact was that during the whole course of the war only one bomb was dropped on Bradford - on Lingards department store - and no-one was injured.

After spending three years as an evacuee, my parents saw no reason why I shouldn't return home.

My return home gave me chance to resume friendships with school mates, and most weekends were spent returning to the farm where I'd lived as an evacuee.

My mother was a keen walker and one walk was not to be missed was the walk on Whit Monday. My father managed to dodge out of it so I was recruited to take his place.

My mother, with me in tow, would catch a tram to Saltaire and walk through the village, past the library where I would climb up and sit on one of the stone lions. We continued over the railway and the canal, passing Salts Mill on our right and the mausoleum on our left. There was another bridge to cross, over the River Aire. I was a little in awe of this bridge as the river formed a sort of rapid underneath.

We made our way to what was to me a major attraction on the walk; the Shipley Glen tramway. As the truck on the bottom started to move up the rail the one at the top moved down. The passengers shouted and waved at each other as the carriages passed one another. I found it quite a thrill as a 13-year-old boy at the front, pretending to be the driver.

At the top of the railway was a small amusement park. My mother patently ignored its presence. Having ridden up the railway, we walked towards the Glen, which is quite a sight. I would have liked to climb the rocks but mother marched me on, we had a long way to go. After the Glen we took a path through fields and the yard of Glovershaw farm.

We crossed the Bingley - Baildon road and along a track leading us through Golcar farmyard. The thing I particularly remember about Golcar farm is you could buy junket; a concoction made from milk and rennet.

There followed a long walk through fields and a road alongside the moor to Dick Hudson's public house. Here was a path which led towards Ilkley; roughly two miles in length. My mother and I weren't the only ones on the walk. The route we'd taken from Saltaire to Ilkley was a ritual for many on Whit Mondays.

You could stop and gaze around and see chimneys and houses in Bradford, quite some way away. If you were lucky you might see a hen grouse with her chicks - little bundles of black and gold down, scurrying after their mother.

Having crossed the moor we made our way into Ilkley where a treat awaited - ice-cream. Not just any ice-cream but Stones ice-cream, in a class of its own.

A train from Ilkley station took us back to Shipley and the tram home. I suppose I was a reluctant companion for my mother, but on reflection I did enjoy myself and take great pleasure in the memory.