I looked up and saw a cheerful bright moustached face with twinkling eyes smiling at me. It was Mike O’Neil and the start of a great friendship that spanned over a decade through all sorts of experiences. I had found a friend and a real tough soul mate who was to stand by me in all sorts of trials, tests and dangers.
Here was a man with a terrific  personality, well educated, exceptionally good-looking with a real spirit of adventure . He had got completely paralysed with  polio at 18 and had fortunately overcome it, and vowed in future to live his life to the full. At the beginning of the War he had joined the Navy Air-Sea Rescue, then transferred to the RAF flying   Mosquito Fighter Bombers  His twin brother had been at Bradfield with me, though I did not know him,   whilst he had been At Pangbourne Nautical College 4 miles away. His Father had been in  India so we both shared an Eastern Childhood colonial background. We went off and had a drink and kept in close touch for the time being whilst we found our feet.
I managed to now get a job on an irrigation project, with no pay but the prospect of a very good return of half the profits as the scheme came to fruition. The scheme was sound and would have done me well but for the fact that I fell out with the lady of the house. She was mad that I beat one of her boys who had a habit of flicking me with a wet towel when I was soldering with a red hot iron    Her husband was on my side, except that he  reckoned I had not thrashed him hard enough as he was a little pest! Anyway the husband was forced to choose between her and her ‘anti-beating’ principles, or me…..so I moved out and back to Salisbury.

Here I met another two people with whom I was going to be friends with. The first was Dickie Stack who was in partnership with a couple of others running a road transport business which was just starting to get off the ground. He lived a few miles out of town and I was able to lodge with him. Whilst over in England the previous year he had met a man called Outwin, who had written to ask him if he could offer him a job as he did not have enough money to put down for his Entry permit. Dickie wrote back that he would give him a letter of offer, but  on the strict understanding that  in reality he could not offer him a job as his business was too small at that stage.  However he would put him up for a week or two, whilst he looked round for something to do. Outwin turned up complete with girl-friend who had in fact paid his passage out, and after three weeks of eating and drinking at Dickie’s expense he turfed him  out and told him to find a hotel somewhere, which he did. However a few days later he could not pay the Hotel Bill and someone tipped off Immigration who came round to the hotel and looked into his status which traced back to Dickie who was now in hot water. The official sympathized, but said that this was a serious offence, and Dickie would probably get six months for false documentation and misrepresentation, but as the Public Prosecutor was away in Bulawayo  and could not deal with the  case  immediately, it would be heard in a couple of days at 4 pm.   This meant that Dickie was in real serious trouble and had to clear out fast and so we both decided to head for Northern Rhodesia (Zambia).  Mike O’Neil also came round and when he heard that we were heading North, he too wanted to join us. Frantically everything Dickie had was sold, trucks, furniture  etc all went and we piled into my Plymouth and headed north 150 miles towards the Border at the Kafue Bridge. Luckily when we arrived there the Border Post was open, but there was no one there, just a note chalked onto the Blackboard.  “Sorry no one here. Cars please fill Form A, Passengers fill in Form B”. Dickie took one look and said it did not apply to us and so we drove on  out of trouble  easily and over the border  into a new life!  Once at the border we declared ourselves to Immigration and Dickie left us and took the night

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