During the 50s the defence of the realm relied heavily on the resources of the folk completing their National Service.
My father was one of those men – he served in the RAF and was stationed at a Radar Station at Worth Matravers in Dorset.
It was here, during the 2nd World War, that Radar first bounced around the airwaves. There’s now a memorial to that work, atop a cliff. On the day I visited it to take the photo, the area was shrouded with an eerie mist.
My father’s recollections of his time at Worth are always entertaining. And of course it was the RAF that brought him to Dorset where he met my mother.
She worked in the library of Boots the Chemist. Lending libraries had yet to be established and for a small subscription it was possible to ‘rent’ a book.
Her knowledge of books is far greater than mine. Moonfleet is one of her favourites – a great tale set along the coast near Weymouth. I tried to read it as a child, but failed. Last year the Stewart Granger film based on the book was on TV and I decided this was my chance to enjoy the saga. I fell asleep.
I daren’t compromise the safety of our country by revealing too much about my father’s time in the RAF. Suffice to say we survived!