On being a boy in 1950’s Gibraltar

Gibraltar.   There was an old Sherman tank to the rear of our crumbling block of flats.  It  served as the centre piece of a children’s play area.  It was wonderful.  Of course the tank’s open hatches had been welded immovable, and you couldn’t swivel the turret, or raise, or god forbid, fire the guns.  But... Continue Reading →

Website Built with WordPress.com.

Up ↑