Halcyon days of the 1950's when life for kids was a continual adventure and we

were free to explore the beckoning world as long as we were home before dark.



When you are getting closer to the exit door like I am you start looking back to when you came in, remembering all the people and friends you knew in years  gone by, who they were and what they did, and in my particular case, being a member of ‘ALPHA ONE’ : three Special Forces school chums. In doing my share of reminiscing I made the mistake of meddling with the past and even though I am now in my seventies, and thought I was beyond major upset, my meddling gave me a savage jolt that will haunt me till my dying day. It also means I now have to tell you about Gordon. I could just tell you the basic facts but it’s far too complicated for a simple explanation because, like everyone involved, he was a product of our time; those exciting post war years during the 1950s.


So you need to understand those more innocent schooldays set in a different age when it all took place. It was a unique time in the history of our country when the town was being rebuilt after the ravages of war. Bombed out sites were being slowly cleared, to make way for the new and for schoolboys it was a truly exciting period. Part of my own schooling was down by the docks and its near proximity to all the reconstruction activity provided opportunities for the mechanically minded to keep an eye on the various work sites and perhaps inspire the next crane or digger model for those with a Meccano set, or maybe encourage an interest in the new style of architecture.


The aftermath of war and what we saw in films and comics was firmly embedded in our childhood with both the cinema in it's newsreels and feature films and also in the comics we read.  Although it might not have seemed like it at the time, things were steadily getting better and we were living through a period of positive change.


In this book, my personal memoir, I have tried to capture the spirit of  the time by describing not only various aspects of our childhood but also the games we played both in the school yard, local parks and as we funnelled through a nearby woodland homeward bound from the Saturday morning Odeon cinema club. I have discussed friendships, our impressions of school life in general, comics, books and what we read, our hobbies and collecting fads and how, even at a very young age, we were indoctrinated into our Welsh identity, our heritage and what it meant. My own secondary education took place at the Technical school down by the docks which has now become the Dylan Thomas Centre. Being a former town hall it was a very grand building so I have taken the opportunity to described its labyrinthine interior, some of the masters and the antics some of it's happy band of unruly pilgrims got up to when they should have been paying closer attention.  


Thus - having set the background to our awakening world and being mindful of my opening remarks, I shall now attempt to set the record straight on what my meddling with the past stumbled on. An event that took place over 50 years ago: an innocent prank that was not what it appeared to be; having unimaginable consequences. Consequences that rippled across continents, tearing the heart out of my precious boyhood memories and turning them to dust.



Bernard Andrew

Telephone:

029 20867364


Price: £8.99

(NB:+ £3 P&P)

geoffrey.blewis@spybook.uk