In 1954 I was 12 and living in Liverpool with my mother and sister, who was 11. My father had been killed in the last week of the war while trying to evade capture after his plane had been shot down. Life was becoming increasingly difficult, as my mother was often ill as the result of a childhood illness.
Finally. she was unable to look after my sister and I. With great sadness, and not knowing fully the implications of her actions, she signed us both up for a new life in Australia as part of a mass exodus of orphans and children from poor families.