THIS week for Looking Back we are revisiting a man's childhood memories of the Second World War.

Arthur Watson has recalled his memories of being an eight-year-old during the war whilst living in West Bay, as remembering the wonder of the American dream through the presence of the US Army some 75 years ago.

Arthur said: "I came to West Bay in 1939 soon after the war broke out as my father had to join the Royal Navy and he thought we would be safer in Dorset.

"We started off in the Coastguard cottages on the East Cliff but then moved to the West Cliff.

"There was a military and naval contingent from the start and there seemed to be a signals unit of Welshmen camped on the cliff edge near the old lime kiln."

Arthur remembers that his movements in the area were rather restricted due to tank traps and barbed wire being scattered nearby.

Across the sea, Arthur remembers gazing out towards Portland, and seeing the "greatest" free firework show as German aircraft attacked Portland Harbour and were met by the anti-aircraft defences.

He also remembers being excited when a Heinkel, which carried secret equipment, crashed in to the sea just below his house and the crew had to get the home guard to find out where they were.

Arthur said: "They thought there were in Spain and were greatly surprised to be in Dorset."

One of the crew died in the crash and is buried in Eype churchyard.

The most exciting day, Arthur recalls, was when he found a full-scale practice landing was underway on East Beach.

Arthur said: "Huge tanks had taken up position throughout the area, including three that were parked next door to our house. "The crews had odd shaped helmets and strange accents that we had never heard before.

"They talked to us, hauled us up on the tank and I had my first ever banana and stick of Wrigleys gum.

"Soon 'gotanygumchum' was our favourite greeting."

Arthur since learned the men could have been Canadians rehearsing for the Dieppe raid.

American presence in West Bay came some time later, when Arthur's family was roused by a group of friendly but similarly accented soldiers asking for brooms and cleaning equipment.

Arthur recalls: "The house opposite that was later the home of the late Keith Maggs, become the Officers Mess and numerous other houses were occupied. "A mess hall and cook house was quickly built and thus began one of the most wondrous times a child could have with these wonderful warm-hearted soldiers from another planet treating us like the families that they had left behind."

One thing Arthur remembers about the soldiers is that war was only a word to them, and mayhem had never truly entered their minds.

He also mentioned that these men soon became surrogate fathers, uncles, brothers and true friends to everyone in the camp, with the soldiers sharing everything they had with the locals.

Thanksgiving Day in 1943 was a moment that stuck out for Arthur, as all the children were invited to the mess hall for their first ever Turkey Dinner with all the trimmings.

Arthur said: "The Americans tried to include us in activities and once I was strapped to the back of a top-sergeant for a cliff climbing exercise. My mother nearly had a heart attack."

Life was not always so easy however, with German aircraft launching several attacks in Bridport.

For security reasons, not many photographs were allowed to be taken in the West Bay area, meaning there was not a lot of pictures to refresh Arthur's mind.

Then one day it all changed.

He said: "One day we woke up to an unbearable silence, D-Day. Everyone had simply vanished, nothing left, no goodbye, the wonderful, cheerful, funny, generous linchpins of our young lives had gone without a word.

"Just a few debris remained as memories."

Arthur said that the significance of D-Day had escaped his young mind, and ended a magical time that will never be repeated.

Three soldiers that got close to Arthur and his family, Lieutenants Rush, Rice, and Gilbert, were some of the first ashore at Omaha beach and all died.

Arthur said: "One day alive in the beauty of the Dorset countryside, almost the next, dead or dying on a French beach for a cause that they had truly begun to believe in.

"We were shielded from the true horror of what happened because there was nobody left to communicate the dreadful news. "Their families were told but would never have known how deeply involved with the local community their sons and husbands had become. "The news of the true horror of that day on Omaha slowly trickled out but the exact fate of these brave and wonderful soldiers was never known to us. We were just too young to know that war was not an extension of cowboys and indians."