Old Friends
My name is Tony Kreit, and this is my Writing-box. This is not a commercial site. It is a place where I intend to Exhibit as much of my own work as possible as well as entertain myself, and hopefully other people. I make no apologies for this because I enjoy writing, but I also feel that there should be havens on the internet where one can simply stop to think awhile and not be pestered commercially by random adverts. This is my place and yours! Don’t get me wrong! I love the internet it’s wonderfully informative, but one cannot go anywhere without the commercial experience following you around. updated 15/December/2019.TK.
A Road Ran Through It’, is an important part of my story and is the first book that I wrote and published on Amazon, but it is not the first part of my story. That honour goes to the second of my published books and bears the title Childhood’s End.
A Road Ran Through It, is a young man’s story. It takes us back to my times of rebellion against my enforced induction into the Royal Air Force in 1960. It is also about the realisation that some strong opinions that were fostered against the military authorities by me, at that time, may well have been founded on a deeply ingrained political bias that had existed since the Second World War, which ended when I was six years old! The story also centres on some of the various extra-curricular activities in which I engaged in order to diffuse the boredom that derived from doing the, for me, totally boring and uninteresting job to which I was assigned during my service. For one example I had always wanted to learn to shoot a military standard weapon. I managed to do this both to a high standard as well as to a degree that actually and completely satisfied my desire to learn to fire weapons. I have not held, nor have wanted to hold a military grade weapon in my hands since the day that I left RAF Bircham Newton for the last time.
I describe my initial sense of mistrust of all figures of authority in the Royal Air Force. During the forthcoming two years I began, very unwillingly at first, to gain a wider perspective on the RAF as a more caring organisation than I had envisaged. I also entertained a growing realisation that the majority of my RAF colleagues, of all ranks, wished me no harm and that, moreover, they were often quite willing to go out of their way to make life easier for me. In fact, my mind is quite clear that I would not have been unhappy to stay in the service except that there is no way that I would expose a wife to the rigors and discipline that would exist for a marriage lived in a military environment. It is for that reason alone that I write very little about Joyce in this book.
My RAF service was never truly tranquil. It began with my unfortunate medical experience in Holborn even prior to my very reluctant entry into training at RAF Bridgenorth on the 4th of July 1960, yet another momentous day in History!
During the story I tell of moments of outright rebellion such as my AWOL periods during every weekend, but one, of my initial training period at RAF Bridgenorth. I also tell of moments of downright anger between myself and certain officers and senior NCO’s such as: the allocations officer at Bridgenorth, The sergeant I.C. boxing training at Kirton-in-Lindsey who I outwitted, The Warrant Officer I.C. trade training also at RAF Kirton-in-Lindsey who outwitted me but to a totally unexpectedly positive conclusion.
I had downright arguments with the final allocations officer at Bridgenorth, a further angry exchange with the RAF dentist at the RAF Hospital at Ely. Then there was the initial angry feeling towards the young officer who, I felt, embarrassed me in my ‘library’ domain but for whom I finally felt compassion, to good end I am happy to say. To my shame I also managed to offend two of the nicest men one could hope to meet: the first was the Station Warrant Officer Mr. MacFarlane who I managed to offend, jointly with others over a ‘Training Command’ sports event {full details in the book but I was truly ashamed of myself} The second offended officer was my own section Warrant Officer Mr. Rubin over his arrangement for me to spend a month at RAF Uxbridge, again I was ashamed of myself when I fully understood how kindly the intentions had been.
There are several short stories within this longer story. They tell of anger, of resentment, of misunderstanding. On the other hand, others tell of kindness, of social learning and simply just how well people can resolve misunderstandings in environments that are not immediately prepossessing.
As the story unwinds, we begin to get glimpses of the dysfunctional quality of our life at home. During those two years I gained a wider perspective on my parents. It was a window on the almost complete lack of tenderness that had existed between them for most of my life, a life that had been akin to living within a perpetual war zone. It had, this had moreover I realised, been much worse for my sister than for me. She is eight years younger than I and did not experience the happier war years and the few years after, which were lived in a more relaxed style despite the very immediate effects of the War.
Towards the end of the story, I tell of the rapprochement, which enabled me to construct a long-awaited denouement with some members of my family, in Manchester, many of whom had been ‘dead’ to me for the whole of my life. I also open, to some detail, the unwelcome realisation that a large part of my family was both socially and personally dysfunctional. There are light-hearted sections in all parts of the work. In many ways it becomes a feel-good story. The concluding chapter rounds off, particularly well in my view, this element of my two-year experience of service for ‘Queen and Country’.
Please note that it is my intention to donate any profits that I make from the sale of any of my books to the Charity ‘Cancer Research’ Tony Kreit 17-07-2024.
