When you ask someone how they’ve managed to live past a century, you’re probably expecting something like “early nights” or “a dram of whisky now and then.” But for 106-year-old Leslie Lemon, the answer is far more delicious, and delightfully British.
“Custard, custard, custard! Rhubarb from the garden and custard, that’s my secret,” declares Mr Lemon with a grin. “You can’t beat it. I have it every day and I want it every day.”
And honestly, who’s going to argue with him?
No Pills, No Aches, Just Pudding
Living in Aylesbury, Buckinghamshire, this great-great-grandfather isn’t just enjoying his twilight years, he’s thriving. No regular medication, no complaints of aches or pains, and he still sleeps soundly. The man seems to be made of stronger stuff, possibly thickened with a bit of Bird’s custard powder.
From the Trenches to Bergen-Belsen
Leslie’s remarkable journey began in 1919 in Ealing, west London. He was the fourth of five children, raised with what he calls a “bossy sister who taught me right from wrong” and a love for cricket.
With war looming, his father nudged him to enlist. So at just 20 years old, Leslie joined the Royal Engineers in 1939 and went on to serve through the entirety of World War Two, leaving as a corporal in 1946.
“I remember the comradeship,” he says, recalling a moment in the trenches when a frightened young lad asked him to pray. “That saw me through, looking after him. We were all scared, but we accepted it. We were lucky, it was touch and go at one time.”
In the final stages of the war, Leslie was stationed at Bergen-Belsen concentration camp, one of the darkest places in human history. “It was terrible,” he says quietly. “The Germans left, and the British took over. We helped as much as we could.”
Years later, in recognition of his role in liberating France, the French government awarded him the Légion d’honneur, their highest honour.
Love, Loss and Life After War
While posted in Cambridgeshire, Leslie met Doreen, the love of his life. They married a year later with his best mate, also called Leslie, as best man. The couple had three children: Michael, Mary and Richard.
Tragedy struck early with the loss of daughter Mary, aged just 10, to hepatitis contracted from polluted seawater. “You never get over it,” Leslie says simply.
After the war, he took a job as an “office boy” at the Inland Revenue in Luton, the only job he could find. His wife worked at the Vauxhall factory nearby. He worked his way up and eventually retired in 1979, aged 60. “I’ve now been retired longer than I ever worked,” he says with a chuckle.
Still Going Strong
These days, Leslie is surrounded by love, eight grandchildren, nine great-grandchildren, and two great-great-grandchildren. They often visit to play cards (especially whist), and just two days before his birthday this year, they threw him a special family barbecue.
His younger son, Richard, now 73, beams with pride: “He takes on a bit of stardust through his longevity. We’re all very proud of him.”
The Lemon Life Philosophy
So what’s Leslie’s secret beyond the custard? It’s not just about dessert, it’s about attitude.
“Take things as they come and be prepared to adjust,” he advises. “Don’t be too set in your ways. I’m quite happy as I am.”
Oh, and in case you were wondering, he’s a lifelong Luton Town supporter. And yes, he’s very much been there, done that, and bought the T-shirt.
