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This story was written by RJ Seddon in 1995:

A family discussion on the wartime Blitz of Liverpool turned to the burning of the Liverpool Museum in May 1941. I recalled, as a 15-year-old youth, seeing the huge Native American totem poles lying outside the gutted interior. This led to a Sunday afternoon visit to the museum by my wife and me, with the sole purpose of seeing the totem poles and verifying if they were the original wartime salvaged relics.

We parked close to the Steble Fountain and, looking up at the Wellington monument, I noticed that the iron balustrade on the plinth below Wellington was heavily strapped together with scaffolding tie bars and clamps.

The site of the balustrade instantly brought back vivid memories of VJ night, August 1945 — which nearly ended in disaster!

Celebrating VJ Day from up high

My father had been demobbed from the forces after victory in Europe and returned to his civilian employment with Liverpool City Council Lighting Department. He arranged to take me and my younger brother into Liverpool city centre to see the celebrations, with a promise of a very special treat.

With a Lighting Department colleague we were led through the milling crowds to the base of Wellington Column. Choosing a quiet moment, Father’s colleague unlocked the door in the base of the column and we slipped in. We climbed the staircase up the inside of the column and opened a door at the top to emerge on the plinth just below Wellington. The sight of the cheering crowds below, wildly celebrating the complete end to the war, with Liverpool ablaze with lights, was exciting beyond belief. For over half an hour, unseen in the dark at the top of the column, we walked around the plinth taking in this fantastic once-in-a-lifetime scene.

My brother and I leaned on the balustrade to look down at the crowds, when we discovered to our horror that the balustrade leaned out with us and was taking us with it to join the crowds below! We must have yelled very loudly, for we were both grabbed and hauled back by our escorts, very, very shaken. Examination revealed that the old balustrade posts had rusted away in their stone sockets. Very carefully we descended the column stairs to rejoin the crowds, locking the door behind us.

This is a memory two brothers will never forget and one no one else in Liverpool shared on that unforgettable VJ night, high over the city centre. Today, looking up at Wellington, could it be they’re only just repairing the railings 50 years later?

A broken bicycle

The evening after VJ day I decided to visit the Wirral with a 15-year-old school friend to see the celebration fireworks and bright lights of the ships across the river and docks.

Our cycles were rather war weary, sadly in need of new tyres and other war shortage spares. My Rudge Whitworth cycle had odd wheels, one brake, a fixed rear wheel but dynamo lights that actually worked. My friend's cycle was a converted old shop carrier minus the basket frames and no lights.

We cycled through the Queensway Tunnel (no toll taken) and apart from the chain jumping off the carrier cycle every few hundred yards, had a splendid evening watching the celebrations in Birkenhead dock area and Hamilton Square.

The journey back through the tunnel was going well until we passed the Liverpool dock exit and started the climb up the gradient to the Old Haymarket exit. Then, CRACK! The carrier cycle’s chain had snapped. We sat on the raised wall in the tunnel and pondered. The broken oily chain and our two trouser belts joined together made a temporary towrope and by changing places continually we emerged in the Old Haymarket, exhausted. After a long rest on the tramway reservation below St John's Gardens we started for home down Scotland Road bound for Walton, a four mile journey, one on tow, no lights on the towed cycle and a very bumpy ride on the Scotland Road sets.

Policemen whistled and stopped us on several occasions for having no lights on the towed cycle — but passed no comment on our predicament!

Looking back it seems a very long time since cycles were allowed in the tunnel and the light traffic was courteous and gave plenty of room to cycles.

The VJ celebrations leave longer memories because at last the war really was over. Fifty years have passed but the memories are still clear.

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