SLIDE 0525
My Grandmother with a tank.
Yesterday's selection of pictures finished with a rather spiffing picture of her standing in front of a rather natty cream and maroon coach in the corner of a foreign car park that was forever tarmacced, at least until such time as they built something else upon the site, and also featured another guest appearance by Grandmother's rapidly becoming legendary "Holiday Handbag" that seemed to go everywhere.
Unless it didn't.
Unless it didn't.
Normally, that picture would have been considered "solo-post worthy" in itself, but as it's immediately followed by this rather wonderful image, it's been reduced in status and returned to the chorus line to await another chance to shine.
It is a nice picture, but, hey, you know, I can't do a single blog post for every picture, can I?
We'd be here forever...
Anyway, you can still see the back of that coach poking out behind the back of this bloody great American tank, presumably a relic from World War Two, and exactly the sort of thing that would appeal to my Grandfather's love of all things engineering-y.
You can. of course, understand completely why this would have drawn his eye. I mean. coaches are ten-a-penny, but the opportunity to take a snapshot of a great big battle machine must have been almost irresistible.
If it had been me, I might have got a whole roll out of it, then spent half a day tracking down an over-priced Kodak outlet because of suddenly having holiday-related film-anxiety issues, but there you go.
Meanwhile, I'm beginning to suspect that both these pictures were taken in a car park in a square in Belgium and so, until I'm informed otherwise by some complete stranger ("I know that house... The top floor is the flat in Dorking where I was born...!"), let's assume that...
Two goldfish in a tank ect, etc, etc...
ReplyDeleteSorry, I thought you knew. It's Bastogne.
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