1 Please note that the views expressed by our contributors are not necessarily the views of the Association

2 ODA Contacts President Mr. Cledwyn Jones

Chairman Warren D. Martin ‘Kwetu Bach’ 4 Gorwel Llanfairfechan LL33 0DS Tel: 01248 680398 E-mail: [email protected]

Secretary Elfyn M Edwards 3, Cae Mair LL58 8YN Tel: 01248 810340 E-mail: [email protected]

Treasurer Gareth V Williams Llwynysgolaig Ffordd Gwyllt Llanfairfechan LL33 0ED Tel: 01248 680770 E-mail: [email protected]

Welsh Affairs John Bryan Jones Heulfryn 7 Victoria Rd Old Colwyn LL29 9SN Tel: 01492 515558 & fax E-mail: [email protected]

Committee members Barry A Wynn 7, Ffordd Islwyn Bangor LL57 1AR Tel:01248 353851

Information Technology Don Parry-Jones 21 Laurel Avenue Bangor on Dee Wrexham LL13 0BQ Tel: 01978 780005 E-mail: [email protected]

Co-opted members with responsibilities for recruiting younger members

Paul D Smith Patrick R Hemphill 5 Parc Derwen Springhill The Green George Lane Denbigh Glemsford LL16 5TJ CO10 7SB Tel: 01824 708017 Tel: 01787 282307 E-mail; [email protected]

The Newsletter Editorial Team and Archivist

(See page 38 for contact details)

3 The President of the ODA Mr. Cledwyn Jones. Conducting the singing in

At the 450th. Anniversary Service On Friday April 20, 2007.

4 Chairman’s Letter.

There has been some sadness since the last Newsletter with the death of our previous Chairman, Dr Gareth Griffith and two of my old class mates, Robert Llewellyn and Basil Roberts. A good turnout of Old Dominicans at Gareth`s funeral was a source of some comfort to his wife, Marian and sister Medi. We spent the whole day in their company and that of his friends. It was not at all rushed and was the ideal source of what one Welsh writer has called “a time of reflection and re-engagement”. I only knew him through the Old Dominicans but there were several of his contemporaries present and all had fond memories of him. The Newsletter continues to produce memories and stories of what happened after Friars. Idwal W. Jones`s account of his service in the Royal Military Police prompted by John Pilings report of his time in Libya was most interesting. Why is it that ex military Policemen always seems to be quite nice and pleasant these days whereas fifty years ago they were anything but? Gwyn Rees Jones`s memories of his National Service days must have been a painful reminder to several. The shock of the first few days!! How many servicemen must have breathed a sigh of relief after having been posted just in time? Phil`s first love was a delight to read and brought back memories of Picture Post .Well she was not my first love, not love of any kind really but I did take Diana Doris to Korea. One of my Aunt`s found out and was not amused! Not long home the phrase “but Warren, she is a slut “ rang in my ears. We don`t hear the word these days do we? What happened after school almost has the same ring as “what did you do in the war daddy?” But it is always interesting and often surprising. How many remember Geoffrey Knight, whose father kept a Hairdressing shop in Llanfairfechan? In 1956 several of us ,up country Policemen, had to go into Nairobi to help with the Royal Show .I was holding up traffic to allow pedestrians to cross when I was able to say “Good after noon Mr Knight .Are you enjoying the Show?”. He said “Good God! “ And moved to the side of the road. He was in the Colonial Service and a School`s Inspector. .Another time I stayed overnight in Khartoum and in the airport lounge ordered a Brandy.”I wouldn’t have that if I were you!” I did not take his advice .It was like Treacle! We talked .He was an old Friars boy and was in the Sudan Political Service. I have no idea who he was .Anyone any ideas? I hope to have seen some of you at the Summer Lunch and please keep sending your recollections .Also some of our walks are really quite gentle! Warren Martin

5 Secretary's Report

“I told you I was ill “ From Spike Milligan’s’ headstone.

So all of the reluctant “volunteers” who undertake to become officers of such organisations as ours do protest their own incompetence’s and inadequacies even before they then are persuaded/coerced or even bullied by their peers into becoming chairman/ treasurer/ secretary. How many of us hear the complaints of the village church committee or Historical Society that it is always run by a handful of unwilling volunteers? Our ODA Committee of course fits the pattern beautifully. Few. if any have taken on such tasks before, and here we are in advancing ages striving to achieve a modicum of competence in accounting, secretarial and administrative roles completely alien to us. Not forgetting the hours of application to such tasks as editing our newsletter and wrestling with the complexities of managing the website and compiling the archives. For me, compiling these notes is an exercise in memory management so mistakes are not always inserted to keep the readership alert. Mr Cledwyn Jones, our President, for example, is not the sole surviving member of the teaching staff by a long way, although he probably is the sole surviving member from my day as a pupil (50-55). So my humble apologies to you, Bill Lewis and any others for whom I had written an early obituary. You will also be less glad to hear that our accounts are in less healthy shape than the £14,000+ shown in our working account tin the winter newsletter. The extra number crept in from the typing goblin and should of course read £1400+. A figure which best illustrates the “hand to mouth” economics of running the association and providing 3 newsletters to all our members each year. As Ken Dodd once said “By Jove, I needed that”. A brief story to illustrate innovation, which we all exemplify on the ODA committee. An old friend and I were nearing exhaustion after a long and tiring road trip in New Zealand. We agreed to stop at the first motel we came across and saw a welcoming motel sign. The proprietor was a gentleman of advanced years and made us very welcome. We were the sole customers that day. “You fellars like motorbikes?” he asked as we were shown to our cabins. “Certainly,” we responded as ex bikers of many years standing. He took us along to an old barn and inside was a fabulous collection of vintage machines.

6 They glistened with fresh polish and my eye was taken by a very old Harley Davidson bike with a sidecar in mint condition. I commented that I had never seen a Harley with a sidecar before. “Ah! That was my Dads’ bike “. He said.” Used it every day for over 30 years. Yeah, he was an undertaker. Couldn’t get a car up those old dirt tracks”. I looked again at the sidecar. Pictures and questions going through my mind. An innovative way of solving a tricky problem. What has this to do with the ODA? Our chairman recently said ”We always seem to do what we set out to do don’t we?” May I wish you a good and warm summer 2012. Elfyn Edwards

Editors notes

As I sit by my PC on a late Spring evening in May and glance across at the peaks of Snowdonia the late evening sunshine catches the glint of reflective windows in Rhosgadfan and Rhostryfan. Golden windows in a veil of mists, dwindling into obscurity almost like our lifetimes.. As we anticipate the travels if the Olympic flame and also the celebrations of the Queen’s Diamond jubilee who would have anticipated the events of that memorable moment when Boss, aka Ivor Williams sadly announced with great feeling to assembled pupils in the old dining hall at Friars that “The King is dead!” He was visibly moved beyond words. That was a time when life was never changing. Prices remained static, stamps cost tuppence ha’penny, a loaf of bread was fourpence ha’penny. Life was standing still. Petrol must have been all of half a crown a gallon… Alas! gone like our youth too soon. That was February 1952 Where were those “lads” in 1953? Some had already been on the guard of honour alongside the Coronation route of June 1953. Others were scattered all over the globe of our rapidly fading Empire, including the war in Korea. Were you ever involved in any form of Guard of Honour or bodyguard for the Queen? How would the youngsters of today cope with those earth quaking changes in one’s life? Maybe it was just as well that we did not question but did and often died in the process. Such a volume of water has passed under the bridges of time since that fateful day in the old dining hall. Where were you in June 1953? Perhaps you could recall some interesting moments and events of that time? We have had recently quite a flurry of recollections appearing in the ether of the editorial team. But there must be so many untold tales lurking in the back recesses of these aged minds. Give us a few moments of your time and send us your thoughts of those days. One sad event took place in last December. Bangor City played their last match at .Farrar Road. That scene of major foot balling triumphs is no more. How many ex pupils have graced that hallowed turf? I went to the final match of last season

7 when Bangor defeated their rivals, TNS. Imagine my shock when, with plenty of time in hand, I found that the gates were closed. The Welsh FA in their wisdom had decreed that the gate limit was 1700! Can you recall Bangor playing Cardiff City or Napoli with gates of 10,000 plus? Needless to say I did have a “grandstand” view of the game from the top of a wall behind Farrar Road. But come on you City supporters reach out for those memories of the Field of Dreams. We have our Summer President’s lunch ahead of us where memories can be readily exchanged! Come and join us. We are all on the road to greater maturity (an attempt at being ultra polite) Time is precious and waits for no man Foedere Fraterno Cliff Jones

Bangor City F.C. old ground on 29 May 2012.

The framework of the new Asda Store is well advanced.

Note the UCNW tower in the background.

(Photo Cliff Jones)

8 Where do you read yours? The Editor checking his on the pilgrimage trail of The Via Tolosana nearing Toulouse an “epic" 375 kms.

9 Old Friars boys who went to war.

In our last editorial, the question was implied what had former Friars Boys done in the armies of the past. I have found the question very difficult to answer, but I have already come up with three examples. Augustus (Gus) Edward Vincent lived in Treborth Uchaf, his Father; the Rev. James Crawley Vincent had been Vicar of Caernarfon when he died at the early age of 42, in 1869. Gus, the younger brother of Hugh C. Vincent, founder of the Bangor firm of Carter. Vincent & Co., Solicitors, attended Friars around 1880. He was commissioned into the Royal Warwickshire Regiment, in 1891 and served in the war in South Africa under General Buller; at the Battle of Colenso he commanded a Maxim gun detachment. He was also involved in the siege of Ladysmith. He went on to serve in the Natal Mounted Police. After his retirement, Gus returned to Bangor and was a leading light in forming the “Association of Old Friars Boys” of which he was joint Secretary until his death in September 1914. Gus attended Friars under the Headship Mr. W. Glynne Williams, whose youngest son Denis attended Friars in the early 1890’s. In World War I, Denis enlisted in the Denbighshie Hussars at Wrexham. And was commissioned into the Regiment, which had been formed in August 1914 at Wrexham. Part of the Welsh Border Mounted Brigade in the Mounted Division. In November 1915: they became a dismounted unit .and in March 1916: they moved to Egypt and formed 4th Dismounted Brigade with the South Mounted Brigade. In February 1917 they reformed as the 24th (Denbighshire Yeomanry) Battalion the Royal Welsh Fusiliers and came under orders of 231 Brigade in the 74 (Yeomanry) Division. In 1917, the British army advanced into Palestine and captured Rafah, which they used it as a base for their attack on Gaza and Northwards to Jerusalem. In 1918 the 24th. (Denbighshire Yeomanry) Battalion RWF moved to France. Denis now a Captain relinquished his. Commission on account of ill-health caused by wounds, and was granted the hon. rank of. Captain on the 12th Nov.1918. In the Dominican of the Summer of 1917 we have the following, written from Palestine, The Headmasters son, 2nd Lieut. D. Glynn Williams, of the Denbighshire Yeomanry, tells the story of a midnight reconnaissance on May 24th to find out the secret of a hill, 6,000 yards in front of our lines, which had apparently been swept by our guns, but still gave us a lot of trouble. He writes, ''I was given a free hand, and picked 20 of the best men I knew. With rifles, bayonet fixed, 2 bombs each, and flares, having got to within 200 yards of our objective, I took four men on with me, and we crawled forward there were Turks flanking us on either side I dropped one man every 50 yards, and finished just at the foot of the hill in a cactus-hedge, all alone, except for the gruesome relics of yesterday's attack. After lying and listening for half-an-hour, I continued, on hands and knees. The stillness was awful; if only a machine gun had opened fire it would have been

10 a relief. I found out the secret of the hill, but cannot, of course, tell you, I then crawled back, picking up my 'Boys' on my way We all got in without a casualty, although one fellow tripped over a wire, and set hundreds of tins jangling, and we were the centre of great interest for a time, but it was too dark for us to be seen The 'Boys' were fine—simply Splendid. On July 30th the Headmaster received a letter from Lieut. Col H. M. Case, Commanding 24th (Denbighshire Yeomanry) Battalion R.W.F., enclosing a letter from Major. J. V. Bishop, Commanding Officer of the Rest Camp at Rafa, The enclosed letter is as follows:—" My dear Colonel,—You will, I know, be proud to hear of a very gallant act performed by Glyhn Williams, who, this morning, while bathing in a very heavy sea, seeing a man in difficulties who had been carried right out, bravely swam right out to him in time to keep him afloat until one of the B.W.I, who had started out with a rope got to them, and assisted Williams to bring the man in, It was very well done indeed, and I have written in to H,Q, with a report on the subject, Williams appears none the worse for the strain, I am glad to say. Yours very truly. J. W. Bishop." Col. Case adds: “We are all very proud of your son's feat, which reflects the very greatest credit on him, and, of course, indirectly on the Battalion. He is lying up at Rafa for a few days, as he strained himself a bit, but will, I expect, be back on duty within the week." The third example must be our old friend Ivor Williams, “Boss”. He joined the Royal Garrison Artillery at Watford on the 27 April 1917, whilst a Master at the Royal Masonic School in Bushey, a very similar school to Friars. After training he was sent to Mesopotamia and joined the 13 (Western) Divisional Artillery, fortunately too late to be involved in the debacle of Kut al Amera. Ivor was, however, in time to take part in the heavy artillery bombardments at the second and third battles of Jebal Hamrin in October and December 1917 and at Tuz Khurmattli in April 1918. His unit then joined “Lewin’s Column” pushing North towards Turkey, their advance units reaching Altun Kopri when Turkey signed an Armistice on 31 October 1918. The Division then began to run down and finally ceased to exist on 17 March 1919 and Ivor came home to continue teaching and ending up back in Friars..

Could “Boss” be one of these Gunners in Northern Mesopotamia near the Turkish border ?

11 The Old Dominicans Society Sixty years ago. From John Cowell 1942-47

In 1951 there were some 25 ex-Friars boys at (then UCNW), and a small group of enthusiasts among them decided to form an Old Dominicans Society in the College. Informal ‘get-togethers’ were held in Tan Rallt, the College refectory at the bottom of Glanrafon Hill, and members played an important part in the annual Rag events. A Society tie was commissioned, showing part of the School crest against a red background, and this was worn with pride at College functions. The photograph shows 15 Society members posing for the camera at the end of the 1951/52 academic year.

Standing (left to right): Eldon Williams, Glyn (‘Gig’) Jones, Gwyn Davies, Bill (‘Lodge’) Jones’ Bromley Banks’ Meirion Jones, Keith Goddard. Seated: (L to R): John Cowell, Frank Walker, John Hutchinson Wendell Edwards, Alistair Wood,John Dilwyn Williams, Philip Hughes, Colin Fielding.

Other known members missing from the photograph on the day were Einion Pritchard, Stanley Hughes, Elfed Humphreys, Ken Evans, Victor Thomas, Emrys Owen, Leslie Jones and David R Williams. There could well have been others as well.

Has anyone further recollections of the Society’s activities? If so please let us know.

12 Frank Roberts (1943-49) has more National Service memories. This time with the RAF.

Having been kited out at RAF Padgate and completed my square-bashing at RAF Henlow, I was posted to RAF Lyneham in the spring of 1950. Unaware of the transport arrangements at Dountsey station I walked all the way, kitbag and all, to the camp. Dripping with perspiration, boots covered in mud, I duly reported to the Guard-room where, to my surprise the Corporal M.P. was most considerate and helpful. He took me to my billet and provided the usual standard blankets and sheets. Following instructions I reported to Admin. H.Q. the following morning, where I was informed that I was to take up duties as a Clerk G. D. in Flying Wing H.Q. From what I can remember, RAF Lyneham was made up of three sections — Admin. Wing, Technical Wing and Flying Wing. The latter consisted of Flying Wing H.Q., 99, 511 and 242 Squadrons. The Officer in charge was Whig Commander A. H. C. Roberts DSO.DFC., and the Adjutant was Flight Lieutenant J. W. C. (Paddy) Nairn DSO. W/Cmdr. Roberts was a strict disciplinarian and extremely rank-conscious - nevertheless he was very supportive of the Staff. On the other hand, F/Lt. Nairn was easy-going and looked after the welfare of the Orderly Room Staff. I remember on one occasion when I had taken some documents into the Winco's room. I was standing in front of his desk, feeling rather tired. I happened to place my hands on his desk for some support, whereupon he barked "Roberts! are you tired?" "No. sir" I replied. "Then stand up straight, man!" On another occasion I was lighting his stove and, despite using a whole tin of floor polish, the coke failed to ignite. Winco came into the room, saw what I was doing, and said "Roberts! You are a Corporal now, you shouldn't be doing this". More than once, F/Lt. Nairn took the Orderly Room staff out, visiting the local hostelries, and ending up at his married quarters at Clyffe Bypard, where Mrs. Nairn plied us with all kinds of goodies and munchies. Paddy Nairn was also a keen member of the Station Rugby XV. Flying Wing H.Q. had the overall responsibility of the three Squadrons, monitoring the competence of the air crews. The crews were graded with these deliveries I was given according to their qualifications and experience. I found it strange at times that the pilot would only be, say, a Pilot Officer, but the co-Pilot a Squadron Leader. Competence and qualification took precedence over rank. F.W.H.Q. issued their own Standing Orders which were prepared and printed by the Orderly Room staff. As the newest recruit I was delegated to deliver the copies

13 throughout the Station. To help me a Station bike, the usual "sit up and beg" variety. I soon got to know every nook and cranny on the station. There were plenty of activities on the Camp to keep us amused. I remember one day when W/Cmdr. Roberts called me into his room and said "Roberts, you have an 'O' Level in English - we are starting a Drama Group, so report to the Camp theatre" and gave a time and date. Naturally I obeyed orders, duly turned up for the first rehearsal of the play, which was Terence Rattigan's "Flare path". Apart from me and Taffy Evans from Aberdare, who fancied himself as the next Richard Burton, the majority of the cast were Officers and their wives. The director was Master Sergeant Navigator Norman Chappelle, who later in life took up acting professionally and was seen playing bit-parts on television. Fortunately, due to Station commitments, the play never took off!! Apart from the Astra cinema there was a good theatre at the Station, where many excellent entertainers performed. On one occasion a hypnotist was engaged who required the usual guinea-pig to help with his act. For one reason or another (I still don't know why!) I found myself on the stage where the hypnotist proceeded to make a right "Charlie" of me! Despite the fact that I was aware of what was happening, I was completely under his spell. He made me do stupid things which seemed to amuse the audience. Sometime later the Hypnotist made a further appearance, asking me to be his stooge once again. There were calls of "Come on, Taffy" from the audience, but I kept my head down. No way was I going onto that stage. Once bitten, twice shy. There were plenty of opportunities to play sport. In the winter there was rugby, football, and boxing with inter-section cricket matches during the summer evenings. The station had a good boxing team, mainly made up of Irish lads and Scousers. My pal Paddy Kiernan was the cruiser-weight representative. Paddy packed a punch in both hands but unfortunately he had a bit of a glass jaw. Consequently, his bouts seldom went beyond the first round, depending who got the punches in first. However, I am pleased to say he won more than he lost. There was one real star in the team, an A.B.A. champion. I think he was a featherweight and came from Shropshire, his surname being Russell?"* There were many boxing promotions, the large hangers making excellent venues. 38 Group Championships were held at Lyneham as well as Inter-camp competitions against Yatesbury, Compton Bassett and various Army camps. At weekends, I would travel into Swindon. In the winter I would probably watch Swindon Town play football. They had a prolific goal-scorer by the name of Owen. In the evening I would end up at the Locarno in the Old Town, or, for a really good

14 night of fun, go to the Irish Club with Paddy Kiernan. In the summer months Swindon speedway would attract us. There were many characters stationed at Lyneham. One, Jock Macken was, indeed, a scruffy and outrageous character. I believe that towards the end of his RAF career his kit was retained in the guardroom so that it was kept reasonably clean and not flogged for beer money! A year or two later, strange to tell, I happened to be walking down Oxford Street, in London and saw a sandwich board on the move. As I approached I could just see a pair of feet beneath and a head above — it was Macken. Another old character I remember was an airman whom we nicknamed Jennifer. No one was sure whether Jennifer had a psychiatric problem or was being clever and was trying to work his ticket. He used to do peculiar things; he would pretend to be an aero plane and would consistently buzz around the camp with his arms outstretched. Every time he came to a halt sign in the road he would come smartly to attention, look around, rev. up and take off doing his Biggies act. Machen was his arch-enemy. Jennifer would run a mile when he saw him. There were times, particularly in the mess or NAAFI, when Jennifer could not escape and Machen would drill him, making him march up and down, much to the amusement of all concerned. Lyneham, in the early 50's was a very busy station. There were a number of crises, such as the Korean War and the oil crisis in Teheran. During the Korean War some of the old Hastings aircraft were converted into air ambulances, conveying the wounded from Korea. Lynham was constantly in the limelight and the press coverage was quite intense. One day there appeared to be more pressmen about than usual. We heard on the grapevine that Private Speakman V.C. (of Glorious Gloucester’s fame) was arriving at the Station. The staff from our orderly room joined the throng and awaited the arrival of the Hastings with Speakman aboard. The aeroplane's door opened, this giant of a man appeared, filling the doorway. Cameras clicked and when he finally alighted the press made him kiss the ground. Both my superiors tried their best to get me to sign on as a regular, I must admit, I was sorely tempted. As a "carrot" to signing me on, arrangements were made for me to make an overseas trip on a Hastings aircraft. Before embarking I received most of my jabs from the M.O. but had to go to the RAF Hospital at Wroughton to get my yellow fever jabs. The trip was worthwhile, just to see those gorgeous Princess Alexandra nurses! Having received the jabs and K.D. kit from stores, I found the kit so ill-fitting as to make me look like a character out of "It ain't 'arf 'ot, Mum". I got on Hastings TG 610 and off I went.

15 The first stop was at Castel Benito, Tripoli. The bar was sumptuous, the room being cooled by means of a huge fan fixed to the ceiling. It looked like a film set, the barman who wore a huge red fez, looked like Peter Ustinov. He poured a fantastic John Collins, the like of which I have not tasted since. The following morning we flew on to Habbaniya, stopping to re-fuel at the staging post in El Adem. Due to engine failure we spend a couple of days in Habbaniya in the tented transit camp. It was extremely hot. Some of the passengers managed to steal their way into the camp pool, and not having any swimming trunks, we jumped in wearing only our underpants. Despite an overhead piped cooling system it was just like sitting in a Turkish bath. When repairs to the aircraft had been completed we flew on to Mauripur in Pakistan. Flying over the Arabian Sea we encountered severe turbulence and the AQM worked overtime dishing out extra sick-bags to the passengers. On touching down at Mauripur we all looked forward to a restful night. Unfortunately that was not to be. As soon as the aircraft's doors were opened we felt an oppressive dry heat together with a most obnoxious odour which smelled like a mixture of stale curry and latrines. When we got out it seemed as though we had landed on Mars. The area was desolate, not a tree or shrub in sight. Eating in the mess was a nightmare, the choice of food, as expected, being curry or curry. I ate what I could and duly suffered for it, spending the night sitting on a latrine. Their so-called sanitary facilities consisted of a corrugated construction with a pole to sit on and a sack at the front to give you privacy. When the holes in the ground were filled the construction was lifted and moved over new holes in the ground. I would not recommend Mauripur as a holiday destination. My trip ended at Negombo in Ceylon (now Sri Lanka) which was a different cup of tea!! I did the usual tourist things, visiting the local bazaars and seeing the elephants being bathed. My last night was spent drinking vast quantities of Singapore lager, with a bunch of RAF regulars. It was one heck of a session. To get back to my billet I must have crawled through every monsoon ditch on the camp. Luckily the monsoons had not yet arrived. I woke up the following morning finding myself entangled in the mosquito net. The return journey back to Lyneham is still a complete blank but what I do remember was a wonderful experience. There is no doubt in my mind that I had a marvellous time at Lyneham. I met and mixed with great people and would not have missed it for the world.

16 *Tommy Russell represented G.B. in the 1952 Helsinki Olympics, Three years later he won the European Crown in Belgrade. At the 1956 Olympics in Melbourne he was awarded a Silver Medal.

A Hastings aircraft TG511 now in the RAF Museum Cossford.

This was Hastings Aircraft HG552 which made a rough landing at Negombo in Ceylon at about the time Frank landed there, I am sure that he is glad that it was not his flight,

17 Bill Speakman V.C.

The article in this issue by Frank Roberts has stirred the memory and in particular his description of Bill Speakman getting off the Hastings. He describes Speakman as a Giant of a man; he was and still is! He suffered through the circulation of false stories especially at the time of the award but he went on to have a long and distinguished career with several years in the S.A.S.. I am sure that Frank will recall that Speakman had and still has relatives in LLanfairfechan and Penmaenmawr and he told me that he had very pleasant memories of holidays in Llan` when he was a young boy. Although few in this country know anything about the conflict Speakman is held in high regard in Korea and has a place in the Schools` History Curriculum

Warren & Bill Speakman VC The picture was taken in Korea during the Celebrations to Mark the 60th Anniversary in 2010

18 1557 Squadron A.T.C.

Reading the various editions of the Dominican and the Old Dominicans’ Newsletters, it becomes obvious that a great many of us were members of 1557 Flight which later became a Squadron and that we have very fond memories of those times. We may not all have gone on to join the Royal Air Force, but our training in the ATC assisted us in many ways in later life. However, as usual, things change in some ways, the Air Training Corps has now been renamed, Royal Air Force Air Cadets, but from what I can ascertain, it is still basically the same. Of course it has been brought up to date in line with the RAF. The Duke of Edinburgh’s Award is very active and all sorts of exiting opportunities are available. To learn more about today’s Air Cadet Organisation click on http://www.raf.mod.uk/aircadets/

Due to the present climate of cut backs in Government spending it appears that the Air Cadets will now have to carry out more fund raising to keep the Organisation running at the high rate that it has become used to. Perhaps we in the ODA could assist 1557 Squadron with this, not necessarily financially but by assisting in fund raising events. I leave it with you, perhaps some of you will come up with ideas to help repay the Squadron for what it gave to us in the past and possibly get closer association with Friars. Phil W-J

On the subject of flying we have this from Tom Bernard.

She frantically calls a May Day: “May Day! May Day! Help me! Help me! My pilot had a heart attack and is dead. I don’t know how to fly. Help me! Please help me!”

All of a sudden she hears a voice over the radio saying: “This is the tower. I have received your message and I will talk you through it. I’ve had a lot of experience with this kind of problem. Now, just relax. Everything will be fine. Now give me your height and position.”

She says, “I’m 5’4” And I’m in the front seat.”

“O.K.” says the voice from the tower. Repeat after me: Our Father. Who art in Heaven.

19 The following was developed as a mental age assessment by the School of Psychiatry at Harvard University. (And they are paid to develop such things)

Take your time and see if you can read each line aloud without a mistake. The average person over 45 years of age cannot do it!

1.This is this cat. 2. This is is cat. 3. This is how cat. 4. This is to cat. 5. This is keep cat. 6. This is an cat. 7. This is old cat. 8. This is fart cat. 9. This is busy cat. 10. This is for cat. 11. This is forty cat. 12. This is seconds cat.

Now go back and read the third word in each line from the top down.

Again we thank Tom Bernard for this interesting contribution.

The Lady of Gharyan,

John Pilling’s article on Tripoli in the Winter Newsletter and again Idwal Wynn Jones’ letter in the last Newsletter reminded me of my time in Tripolitania in 1948, About eighty Kilometres South of Tripoli, in Libya, is the small hill town of Gharyan. While stationed in the desert town of Tarhuna we were patrolling the district and arrived in Gharian. Just west of Gharyan, there was a primitive road to the right, which provided a bumpy trip to a derelict former Italian barracks, a relic of World War II. There was a large building at the camp, possibly the dinning hall, Painted on one of the walls inside the building was an enormous (.4m by 10m) representation of a naked woman, lying on her side, American pin-up style.

20 The upper torso of the woman was shaped as the representation of the North Africa coast, and the salient points of her anatomy ware marked with names of North African towns and with scenes of battle from El Alamein to Tripoli. The locals called her “El Bint” (The Lady) and said that she was the work of an American. Years later I discovered that the "Lady of Gharyan” was drawn by Clifford Saber, a volunteer American ambulance driver with the British 8th Army. Saber created the mural to help boost the morale of his fellow servicemen, on 2 March 1943, while his unit was housed for a few days at the barracks in Gharyan.

In his book “Desert Rat sketchbook” Saber writes “It took eight hours to paint the large mural, finally called the Lady of Garian, three hours apiece for the other two, and two hours for the background”..(Detail from the book below).

21 The Old Dominican Rucksack Club News

An Ascent of Snowdon.

Reprinted from the Dominican No 18, Summer 1917. A pity that we no longer write this way.

For a short distance our path lay through green fields, dotted with fine clumps. In the background towered a ridge, rough and craggy, an earnest, as it were of a wilder beyond, while in strong contrast to its bleak, inhospitable aspect, were its slopes, clothed with corn and hay, broken by merrily tinkling streamlets— altogether a landscape of perfect, peace. As we advanced we left behind the fertile acres below and soon crossed the ridge; then we found ourselves high up on the side of a great valley. The clouds, driven by the wind, sported across the glens and up the hills, often abruptly vanishing. Lower down the slope appeared the snaky line of railway, disappearing here and there in miniature gorges, and beyond, on the other side, rose a steep unbroken line of cliffs, topped by the mountain peaks. Far away behind them stretched an unending series of rugged hills Enjoying this splendid view; we trudged on, the merciless sun smiting heavily un our heads. Accordingly we were compelled to halt at every spring to slake our thirst. But, in spite of this, the sun, reflected in a mass of fire from distant lakes added a pleasing touch of beauty. Directly in front of us, however, was an irregular barrier of cliffs, their summits rising unevenly to a great height, their base containing a lake shrouded in deep and perpetual gloom - Llyn Du'r Arddy. A little higher up we turned, and from our commanding position viewed the neighbouring country, Dimly we saw, in spite of the blurring haze, the Menai Straits and the apparently shifting outline of the coast, We at length reached the Clogwyn ridge. Towards the pass the mountain fell away steeply, in a rugged slope, broken by huge boulders and jutting points of rock. Here, in a terrible accident, the train was derailed and hurled to its doom over the brow of the cliff. Opposite us were the Llanberis quarries. The mountain side had been pierced and blasted into a series of steps. Suddenly on turning round we saw the train moving slowly down its sleep track, apparently threatening every moment to rush at a breakneck pace to destruction. But it maintained its measured pace and was soon lost to view in the countless windings of the track. On we pressed bravely surmounting ridge after ridge, until at last we stood in full view of the peak we bad toiled so much to reach. With redoubled energy we began to climb the last spur, and soon reached the top. Here we stood on a cairn of stones, and enjoyed a scene grand and majestic beyond words, until, to our regret, the time came for us to retrace our steps to the highways of the plains, J. E. D.

22 Rucksack Club walk on Friday March 23rd 2012 or “Where has Phil gone to?”

We waited for two weeks for a low tide along the Menai Straits to coincide with an attempt to walk along the rocky shore between Beaumaris and the Gazelle Hotel, Glyn Garth. If you get it wrong you can be caught on a very narrow beach with cliffs and nasty scrambling on one side and a fast racing current on the other. What faith did our intrepid party show in their leader? They scuttled briskly along slippery boulders, pausing only to listen to an interesting diatribe on the geology of the shoreline by Gareth, and that with furtive glances towards the rushing waters.. We had arranged to meet Phil in or by the Gazelle hotel but on reaching Glyn Garth Jetty where the Bangor ferry once disgorged its regular passengers, now, sadly long ceased to operate, there was no sign of our ODRC leader. After a quick search of the bar, we opted for lunch facing the extensive views of pier, Garth shoreline, Bangor,and the Snowdonia mountains wreathed in misty splendour. Another search for Phil. No joy at all. Perhaps he is on the main course in the restaurant? We'll go on anyway towards Llandegfan. Hang on a minute. Wasnt that Phil who just drove past waving jovially but going in the wrong direction? He was heading for Beaumaris. Another ODRC cockup. Never mind. We carried on through early spring fields of young lambs and down to Lin's tea and scones. Still no sign of Phil though....

On the beach at Beaumaris

23 Aber Menai point and Newborough beach Friday 5th April

"Meet at the wheat sheaves car park" were the instructions for this outing on a cool but pleasant Spring day. The huge metal sheaves on the car park were in fact meant to represent marham grass sheaves, the basis for a cottage industry some two hundred years ago when the dunes of Newborough were farmed. Warren described the changed use of the area after an immense storm covered the farmland with sand which remains to the present day. In wartime, a mock airfield was located here to deflect hostile fire away from other airfields in North West Wales. Would anyone else like to add their knowledge of this forest and dune area now a nature reserve managed by Nature Conservancy bodies such as CCW ? The ponies grazing the coarse grass on the dunes were, we were informed by Warren, introduced during his time at the National Park Authority, and originally came from the Carneddau feral stock. Another example of an Old Dominican literally leaving his mark on the landscape? In early summer, the dunes are a blaze of colour with orchids, some rare, and sand loving flowers such as petunias, though we saw only a small number of early violets and the ubiquitous daisies. With some relief all round we reached the oasis of a large drftwood log on the beach for welcome drinks and lunch, though Gareth had to fight off the attentions of a ravenous collie for his. The views from Aber Menai point were magnetic to the eye. Across the swift flowing Menai was Fort Belan and again an interesting tale of its uses over the years ensued with contributions from Gareth and Warren from its original purpose as a guard over the entrance to the straits during the Napolionic wars to some more titillating tales of its use by local landed gentry. As we stood on the entrance to the Menai, though and listened to the swish and gurgle of the currents with a glorious mountain background. We all agreed "A special place". It felt good to be there with friends at that time. .Elfyn

At the start in the

car park. With the.

Steel marham grass

sheaves,

24 Somewhere in the wilderness of Newbourgh Warren, but where is

Aber Menai?

Abermenai Point from Fort Belan

The old ruined building on the spit was the store for explosives imported into Caernarfon for use in the quarries. Ships carrying explosives were not allowed into the port and had to discharge at Abermenai. Small quantities of nitro- glycerine were brought to the Caernarfonshire side of the Straits by rowing boat and then carted to the quarries. On one occasion, in 1864, a cart load of explosives exploded near Llyn Padarn. SH5562 (Another bit of useless information Ed.) 25 April 27. Walk from Llaneilian to Dulas, Anglesey and return.

Our chairman must have psychic powers when he explained that some of our walks are spent wandering around the country looking for each other. Such was the case on this day. We were all meant to meet at the village car park, Llaneilian at 10am. In fact, by 10.15 am there were just six of there although we had been informed that others were on their way. Eventually we decided that some unforeseen event had delayed or even postponed their arrival so we set off on a blustery day along the Anglesey coast path towards Dulas. Point Lynas lighthouse was the first landmark. An important shipping beacon for all ships entering the Liverpool Bay and Mersey shipping lanes. It is now unmanned and the accommodation turned into holiday homes. The cliffs along this coast are a mecca for wildlife spotters and we saw several species of seabirds, an Atlantic seal, and several Old Dominicans picnicking in the damp weather. We retreated back along the lanes past the old signalling station and Gron told us how once a group of scouts using semaphore from here and further along the coast, got their message to Liverpool quicker than the phone line. As we reached Llaneilian again, lo and behold, a group of fellow ODRC members who had missed the car park had spent some time looking for us until eventually going on their own walk only for two three others to break away and do their own shorter walk. At this point, and with much hilarity and leg pulling, we adjourned to a nearby cafe for mugs of hot tea and toasted teacakes. Elfyn Edwards

Party B in front of the lighthouse,.but where are the rest?

26 . Gazing to sea or sheltering from the rain?

An old wreck in Dulas Bay, Nothing to do with the ODRC

Meanwhile a car load of members from Llanfairfechan venturing into unknown Anglesey did not reach the meeting place until the the main party had moved off, and did not make contact till the end of the day. However they managed to have an interesting though shorter walk reaching as high as the old semaphore station, from where it is said messages could sometimes be sent to Liverpool in around 90 seconds. On the return they passed near the curious 'slate' quarry cut into the seacliff, with its dramatic line of rock cut steps rising from near sea level. It was worked in the 1870s. Back at their parked car they met the main party who had walked the coast as far as Llys Dulas.

John Pilling

27 Llaneilian Slate Quarry Note rock cut steps

May 11 Walk round Penmaenmawr Mountain

Probably uniquely for a Rucksack Club walk we left the meeting place, Llanfairfechan promenade, at precisely 10.00. Even so with a good pace across the sands, to round the headland at low tide, we had to walk for a short distance on the rocks below the cliffs, or wade. None waded. For centuries Penmaenmawr Mountain had deterred travellers along the North Wales coast. Looking up from sea level we could see several of the attempts to make its traverse easy and safe. Ken Banes told us of the constant maintenance needed on the railway where at times waves brake over it. The sea still washes the base of the 193 5 road viaduct behind the railway and higher again the new A55 (west bound) emerges from its tunnel below the line of Thomas Telford's road. Once round the headland our route left the beach, and, passing under the A55, took us through the west end of Penmaenmawr to Craig Llwyd farm and the start of the grassy track that rises steeply across the hillside below the neolithic "axe factory"(out of sight of our party). We stopped midway up, at a seat and large boulder, to eat and take in the view over the sea. On more level ground, by the prehistoric cairn on the bwlch at the Llanfairfechan / Penmaenmawr border, some of us made a detour to visit the memorial to the members of the American crew killed at the site of the Liberator crash in 1944, where we looked at photos sent by Phil Williams-Jones, and taken by him at the time of the crash and on a visit there with Jack Renshaw in 2004. From above Llanfairfechan we took a path into the middle of the town to reach our starting place. John Pilling

28 The North face of Penmaenmawr showing the road and rail viaducts

Resting on Graiglwyd path

29 Members of the ODRC inspect the crash site of Liberator B24J which crashed in Mist on 7 January 1944

30 May 25th Dolwyddelan to Ty Mawr, Wybrnant via Lledr Valley.

A very hot (29C) day saw a good turnout of 14 members and friends gather at the Station car park in Dolwyddelan for a two part walk suited for all our various walking abilities. For the first two miles we climbed along a mixed woodland track past Muriau Coch, reputed o have been built without mortar in the 15th century and still upright. Dropping down past an old mill we met the track along the Lledr valley and followed it to Lledr Hall Outdoor Education Centre where we took lunch by an enormous pool on the Afon Lledr known locally as the Salmon Pool. We saw no salmon but Jim the mascot swam to investigate while we enjoyed the charming surroundings. At this point, four of us who intended to complete the entire circuit to Ty Mawr continued down the gorge while the rest of the party made their way back along the valley track to Dolwyddelan. A flock of badger-faced sheep kept Gwyn Buckland amused and they completed their walk hot and tired but satisfied by a pleasant day in the country. The intrepid four toiled up a very steep ascent to Ty Mawr, home of Bishop Morgan who first translated the bible into Welsh and is now a National Trust property. As all but Hefin had visited it we persuaded him to explore it at his leisure and ascended again over forest, moor and sucking bogs finally to arrive at Dolwyddelan even hotter and more tired than the first group. Gareth pointed out that some controversy now centred on Bishop Morgan’s translation, as some critics from South Wales considered it should contain more words from South Wales Welsh, whatever that means to readers of this newsletter. Answers in the next issue please!! Elfyn

At the Start

31 Lunch by the Salmon Pool on the Afon Lledr

Hot & thirsty at Ty Mawr.

32 Proposed walks June to September 2012

June 8 Meet in Carreg Mon Car Park at 1030 hrs walk down below Britannia Bridge and follow coastal walk and back by A5.

June 22 Meet John at 1030 hrs in the Car Park Grid SH 681750 on Station Road Llanfairfechan. Drive up to the Car Park at the top of Mount Road. Walk up to the Druid’s Circle and visit the B24 crash site on Moelfre.

July 13 Meet Elfyn in Bethesda Car Park Grid SH 625668 at 1030 hrs for a circular walk to Y Gyrn and back.

July 27 Meet Elfyn in Cemaes Bay Car Park Grid SH 373936 at 1030 hrs. Walk the coastal path via Llanbadrig to Llanlleiana, Porth Cynfor and return via Bryn Llewellyn to Cemaes.

Aug 10 Park near Betws y Coed Station and Catch the X1 bus from Betws y Coed at 1000hrs, get off at Pont y Pant, walk through the woods to Llyn Elsi, then down back to Betws y Coed, with Ken if his back is OK.

Aug 24 To be announced’

Sept 14 Park under Llandudno Junction flyover at 1030 hrs walk along the path to Deganwy then up the hill behind to look at the remains of the original castle then back to the start. with Ken Banes

Sept 28 Meet Elfyn in Port Penrhyn 1030 hrs visit the Port then follow the old railway to Glasinfryn and back via Bangor Mountain.

Later walks to be announced.

Contact Phil W-J with your email address if you wish to have further information.

33 We regret having to report the death of the

Following Old Dominicans

Our sincere condolences go to their family's.

Basil Roberts (1946—50.) Basil Roberts died on Sunday 1 April 2012. Suddenly while taking his mother for a drive around Dyffryn Ogwen. He was 76 years of age. From the North Wales Chronicle Thursday 5 April 2012. Tributes have been paid to a retired sea captain who died at the wheel of his car while taking a drive with his 107-year-old mother. Basil Roberts, originally of Pentir, near Bangor, was spotted on the A5 close to the Ogwen Valley Mountain Rescue Team base, near Llyn Ogwen, on Sunday afternoon. Mr Ken Phillips, a close friend said: "Basil had a great personality and he was a very clever man.”He was a champion bloke, a very kind man". Mr Basil Roberts attended Ysgol Friars in Bangor and won a scholarship to the HMS Conway. His older brother Elwyn was a former Archdeacon of Bangor Cathedral. (See Obit in Newsletter Summer 2009) Mr Phillips, a ship's engineer, and Mr Roberts were cadets with Shaw, Saville and Albion in Liverpool in the 1950s, when Mr Roberts made voyages to Australia and New Zealand. Mr Phillips added: "They were great times." Mr Roberts was made captain of the Doric aged just 29, and captained another vessel that ran between Japan and Australia. Mr Robert's friend, Joyce Roberts, of Felinheli, paid tribute. She said: "He went to Friars and I went to the girl's grammar school. He would sit on the wall and do my maths homework in the morning before going to school. We'd go to dances and the pictures together. We were very good friends and we stayed that way." Mr Roberts took early retirement in the 1970s, and cared for his mother Ellen. Mrs Roberts said: "He was dedicated to his mother, and was always by her side." Mountain rescuers and paramedic tried to resuscitate Mr Roberts at the side of the road, but he was pronounced dead later that afternoon. Mrs Roberts travelled to the base to take Mr Robert's mother home to Caernarfon. North Wales Coroner John Gittins confirmed that Mr Roberts died of natural causes.

34 Basil Roberts Continued by Warren Martin I remember Basil as a very squat solid individual, but agile and quick in movements particularly on the football field. He seemed always to have a cheeky grin and was full of fun .He seemed slightly amused that his elder brother was destined for the Clergy; ( The Venerable Elwyn Roberts,41-48,Obit .Summer Newsletter 2009). He himself knew exactly what he wanted to do and in the last year of the C.W.B. examinations left Friars to join H.M.S.Conway and start his career ion the Mercantile Marine. I heard no more of him until I read of his death in the Nant Francon.

Robert Llewellyn 1946—53 . We always called him by his surname and he was a fine scholar and sportsman. He was tall and well built in stature making him an excellent thrower of the Discus and a powerful and fast swimmer. He, his mother and his sister left Malaya just before the Japanese invasion in 1942 and settled in Rachub .His father stayed behind to continue managing a Rubber Plantation but unfortunately died in a prisoner of War camp. I think that one of the Dominican Magazines {1950?] contains his recollections of Malaya and the journey to the U.K. He was also someone who knew exactly what he wanted to do and Qualified as a Dental Surgeon in Liverpool where he continued to practice until his retirement .I met him at an A.G.M. and we were able to renew our friendship after a long gap. WM

School Play 1952

Bob Llewellyn in the principal role of “Captain Brass Bound” a play by George Bernard Shaw

35 Eulogy by Hefin Griffiths to his Father Dr.Garreth W Griffiths

(1947 – 55).

Thank you all for coming, I would just like to give a few words about my Dad and hopefully you will recognise something of the man that you knew. In my job I have had to learn to become comfortable with speaking in public, although it is not something that I enjoy! My dad was very similar, and he was someone that was sought out to make speeches and, sadly, recently many eulogies both in Spain and at home – I’m sure he would have done this one better than I can. He has left some strict guides on what he wanted in any eulogy to him, or to be more precise what he did not want – I will tell you about that at the end and you can judge whether I have met my brief. One occasion that I do remember is when, many years ago I was swimming for Holyhead Swimming club. There was some dispute between Holyhead SC and the other Isle of Anglesey Clubs, and Holyhead wanted to break away. The Council did not want this and organised a public meeting in Holyhead. They also invited Hamilton Bland, BBC Commentator and coach of the City of Coventry Club, then the most successful swimming club in Britain. My dad had been asked to be Chairman of the Holyhead club and was seated on the rostrum alongside Hamilton Bland, who started the meeting by saying “my name is Hamilton Bland, I drive a Ferrari, I have my suits hand-made in Saville Row and I am the coach of the most successful swimming club in Britain” – you can imagine how well that went down in Holyhead! After making his points, my dad was asked to speak. Not having prepared anything he stood up and said “ you all know me, I’m Gareth Griffiths, I drive a Datsun, I buy my suits in Hepworths and I am Chairman of, I think, the happiest swimming club in the country” This drew spontaneous applause from the audience, and to his credit also from Hamilton Bland. That taking of responsibility was something that characterised his life; from being the man of the house from an early age as his father was away at sea. Someone who had known my dad for many years asked me a couple of days ago “where’s your dad from” – well he was from Hirael in Bangor, although his dad’s family are from Bull Bay. He was proud to be a Hogyn Hirael and also to have attended Friars School in Bangor and seeing the Old Dominicans Society that he helped initiate grow and flourish has given him tremendous satisfaction. Taking responsibility was again part of the reason why he entered the Royal Air Force after qualifying as a Doctor, driven in part because he had missed out on National Service, which all his friends had completed. During his time in the RAF

36 he was posted to Aden, now the Yemen and despite having been promised a cushy family posting, found himself in a war zone. This experience undoubtedly helped him in his later career, extending his knowledge and skills in trauma medicine. Throughout his life my Dad remained very proud of his service in the RAF and is very proud that his youngest grandson is a member of the RAAF cadets. Dad’s love was paediatrics, but he gave up going for a consultant’s position because he did not want to disrupt the family. Personally I think that being a GP was the ideal job for Dad, allowing him to combine his various skills, but also to connect with the community in which he had made his home. It has been so gratifying that even after so many years, both patients and former colleagues have spoken about what a good Doctor my Dad was. I think that he sought to give patients what they needed, which was not necessarily always what they wanted Yes he could sometimes be forthright Someone told me once that they hated going to see my dad, as they could never get a sick note out of him; but they said, if they were genuinely ill, my dad was the one that they wanted to see Keith Williams, a close family friend told me about the first time that he met my dad. He was in his mum’s house in Holyhead when there was a loud knock at the door late one night and when he opened it my dad pushed passed and marched down the hall and into the parlour. Having looked around the room, he spoke the only two words of the visit – “wrong house” – before marching out again. I also remember 1974 or 75, when in the space of a few months my dad went from being the junior to senior partner in the practice. Through that year he spent much of it running a 3 person practice single handed, recruiting new partners, financing and building a new surgery and, in his spare time, providing respite care for his former partner who was terminally ill. Yes during that year, my dad was, understandably not much fun to be around. But whenever I feel that I am struggling with my workload, I remember that year for my dad and realise that things are not so bad. Former patients in the past and recently have said how my Dad’s diligence had lead to good outcomes for them that would, otherwise, not have happened. In one case, a former teacher of mine said that my dad’s prompt diagnosis had, in the words of his consultant, saved his life. But the most touching tribute for me came from a friend of mine who said that he has always remembered how when they were sitting in the old St David’s in Bangor on the evening that their son had been diagnosed as a diabetic, who walked down the ward to check how their son, his patient was doing, but “Dr Gareth”. That “human side” was sometimes hidden, but it was always there. For my dad, being a Doctor defined how he felt he should live and behave – for example, he

37 would not have a drink in the golf club because he said “people don’t want to see their Doctor sitting at the bar drinking and they don’t want me to be their friend, they want me to be their doctor” That changed in 1990, when following a major heart-attack in Spain, my Dad was advised to retire, although as Rhodri and Don have said, he was still a regular visitor to the Longford Rd surgery. Free from the responsibility, he was allowed to show a different side of himself. Travelling with my mum, spending more time in Spain and becoming a big part of that community, friends with Brits, Germans and Spanish alike. Being a devoted and committed Taid to his grandchildren, with whom he loved spending time and of whom he was immensely proud. Playing more Golf. Although he had been North Wales Junior Champion in his youth and Captained North Wales Juniors; had played off a Handicap of 4 and played once for the County, work had understandably curtailed his golf. My dad was a good Golfer and finally achieved his aim of getting his name on the board at his beloved Holyhead Golf Club. He was still playing good golf; Five years ago he achieved the remarkable feat of Beating his age, shooting 69 gross around Holyhead – yellow tees – mind you I had to add it up for him. As little as Two weeks ago he also played the first 9 holes in Spain, in the company of a former Hampshire County Golfer, in 1 under gross. I remember the last two shots I saw him play. My dad was walking round with me at my course in Sydney. On the 3rd – one of the hardest holes on the course and one that I always struggled to find a very narrow elevated green, my dad casually knocked a 6 iron 6 inches short of the hole,.I then took my dad to the back tee on the 17 th – 210 yards all across water and into the wind. I said let’s hit one from here and my dad refused. I said “why not” and he said “because I don’t want to lose a ball !” – I then pointed out that they were my balls and did he think he was going to take them home with him! Suffice to say He pitched a driver in the middle of the green So two weeks ago, Spain that had given my dad some of the best years of his life, took him. He died playing the game that he loved, with the woman that he had loved for more than 50 years – hers was the last face he saw and hers was the last voice he heard, the sun was on his back – and he had just hit a good drive. Although, it was a good death for my Dad, it has obviously been traumatic for those left behind. Sudden deaths can have the added trauma associated with “the things left unsaid”, things that were being left for the next time. For us, having had the dry run 23 years ago, there is nothing left unsaid. We always said I love you at the end of every phone call or meeting. Since that time, we always let each other know how we feel – just in case. His was a Good life, well lived. My dad knew of his achievements, just chose not to talk about them much, and then only softly – he took greater pleasure in the achievements of others.

38 He achieved everything he would have hoped for from his life. In the instructions he wanted to be remembered in a real way, not canonized to the point that you did not recognise him. Hopefully, in these ramblings, you will recognise something of the person you knew. My Father’s wish was that he be remembered as “a family man and a man of his family” and a “friend to his friends” – Dad I think you will definitely be remembered for those things and much more. The one word that has appeared in many of the card and letters that have provided comfort us has been a true Gentleman. My Dad would have been humbled by the cards, letters and indeed the turn-out today. I know that he would want me to thank you all and he would be comforted by the fact that the communities that he has loved being a part of are, and will, provide support and comfort to my mum in the future Thank You

Some memories from Gwyn Rees Jones

Gareth Griffiths, whose death came as a great shock to me. My memories of Gareth date back to our childhood together in Orme Road, Bangor, where my brother, Eifion, and I live across the road from Gareth, his brother Trefor and his sister Mede. Our mothers were in and out of each other’s houses constantly, as this was the custom in those days. It brought back memories of all the games we played. Hide and seek, cowboys and Indians, and climbing trees in Roman Camp and Hirael Park with no parental supervision. Later it was football and cricket. We would go to the beach area of Hirael meet up with other lads of our age group to play football. Very occasionally we would be joined with the likes of Gwyn and Kenny Lewis, John Merfyn Jones and Seth Edwards who were older and more proficient than us, but what an experience. I was quite envious of Gareth because he had a real football shirt, albeit a Sheffield Wednesday one, with blue and white vertical stripes. while we played in our ordinary clothes. Cricket was played in Roman Camp and also we would climb over Hirael School gates, chalk a wicket on the wall and play in the playground. Halcyon days! After we left Friars we went our separate ways and we did not meet again until our first ODA Reunion dinner at Bangor Cricket Club. It was great to reminisce about old times. The Photograph is of Gareth, my brother, Eifion and me with our bikes in the middle of Orme Road Please note there was not a car in sight! How times and the lives of children have changed.

39 An ODA Committee view of the late Dr Gareth Griffiths

Following my brief announcement of Gareths’ sudden and unexpected death in the Newsletter of Spring 2012, which occurred after the printers had received the copy, I can now give a resume of our all too short time with Gareth as ODA Chairman and myself as Secretary. I take you back to 23rd May 2009 when the first committee meeting of the newly appointed members met for the first time at the home of Colin Dixon and wife Medi, sister of Gareth with Gareth himself as chairman. I was welcomed, I felt, into the family atmosphere of the ODA and was immediately impressed by the warmth, subtle, and often wicked humour of our chairman. Gareth was irrepressible in his ability to keep us bubbling along with often incisive prompts when we began to wander off the subject. Our business became a pleasure to me and although a mere secretarial novice, he had the happy knack of jovial encouragement to all of us who served with him without ever feeling we were being patronised. It takes a clever man to achieve this feeling among his peers and I soon discovered that Gareth was an accomplished man in so many aspects. A witty after dinner speech was effortless it seemed as was an intuitive grasp of a complex argument. It was the warmth and caring Gareth I remember most though as was evident in the love he had for family and enduring loyalty to old friends. So many of his e mails were written like a doctors prescription. Few capitals or full stops but rich in humour and always with a caring thought for myself at their conclusion. A founder member of our re formed association. He was immensely proud to be an Old Dominican. In turn we were proud to share his aspirations and proud to know him as friend in foedero fraterno. Elfyn M Edwards, Hon. Secretary.

40 If you have enjoyed reading what we have produced in this Newsletter please send along your own contribution! No later than the end of October for the Winter Edition

Recollections of your National Service, Interesting experiences in your lives, “A year to remember”, Short news items particularly welcome. And please include any interesting photographs such as “Where do you read your Newsletter?”.

Don’t forget to let us know if you change your address.

Editor Clifford Michael Jones, Manor Lodge, Aston Ingham, Ross on Wye, HR9 7LS. Tel: 01989 720 575 E-mail [email protected]

Production Editor Phil Williams-Jones E-mail [email protected] Assistant Editor Warren Martin E-mail [email protected] Archivist Hefin Williams E-mail [email protected] Tel: 01248 714 471 Check out The Old Dominicans Web Page at http://oldda.synthasite.com Also the School Web page at http://www.friars.gwynedd.sch.uk

41 And finally “My Sat Nav”. I have a little Sat Nav It sits there in my car A Sat Nav is a driver's friend It tells you where you are

I have a little Sat Nav I've had it all my life It does more than the normal one My Sat Nav is my wife

It gives me full instructions On exactly how to drive "It's thirty miles an hour" it says "And you're doing thirty five"

It tells me when to stop and start And when to use the brake And tells me that it's never ever Safe to overtake

It tells me when a light is red And when it goes to green It seems to know instinctively Just when to intervene

It lists the vehicles just in front It lists those to the rear And taking this into account It specifies my gear

I'm sure no other driver Has so helpful a device For when we leave and lock the car It still gives its advice

It fills me up with counselling Each journey's pretty fraught So why don't I exchange it And get a quieter sort?

Ah well, you see, it cleans the house Makes sure I'm properly fed It washes all my shirts and things And - keeps me warm in bed!

42 43 44