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 you could easily imagine the hatches closed, imagine the turret swivelling to its target, and imagine that the gun fired, and time and time again we soldier’s children would sit in the tank, passing radio messages to each other and bumping off passing vehicles and especially blasting to pieces the old ramshackle school bus as it trundled up the Europa Road

Around the rock there  were dozens of old army store rooms and empty gun forts to explore and to play upon.  On one occasion we discovered a subterranean store room full of Second World War steel helmets, hundreds of them.  We raided it one Sunday afternoon, armed with mum’s shopping bags and lengths of washing line rope.  We filled the bags with tin helmets, hauled them up from the subterranean buildings and took them off to our secret caves set in the rocks above the Europa road.  There we fought pitched battles with imaginary Germans until we were called in for tea.  The helmets would be carefully hidden in the caves for battles yet to be fought, next week perhaps, or after tea.

School was the Bishop Fitzgerald’s set on the edge of the town walls close to a  cemetery which we were constantly told,  held the bones of Admiral Nelson’s men.  The school playground was on the roof and we ran wild and free under the Mediterranean sun, with the most stupendous views of the Navy yards and the great Royal Navy ships.  Christian brothers ran the school with a rod of iron or more accurately, with straps of leather, which they applied generously to over exuberant boys.

Often, sitting in class on a drowsy morning, an ape would appear on a wall near by.  It was  so common that we hardly looked up from our books and if we did then the leather  strap would be cracked across a desk to ensure it was but a glance we would steal.  School finished at midday and we would rush off to the Nuffield Pool or Catalan Bay for a swim, making our way to the bay through long wet tunnels and climbing carefully down rickety steps.

They were always making films in those days and the bays seemed full of film stars dressed as sailors.  They would throw explosives into the bay and we would swim out and collect the dead fish that always came up after the blast and which the film stars, or more probably the extras,  would cook on the beach.  Occasionally, in fact quite often, the whole school would be marched off to the Navy cinema to see one the films that had been made, The River Plate, The seas shall not have them, the Man with no name, I was Monty’s double, Sink the Bismarck, all black and white and terribly patriotic.

There was a regiment of Scottish soldiers on the rock at that time. Each year they held their annual games down at the sports ground near the Europa lighthouse.  There would be Scottish sword dancing, tossing the caber, bagpipes and kilts. Running, leaping and  lots of Scottish shortbread.

Occasionally we would go to La Linea in Spain.  Perhaps to the Easter fair  when there was roundabouts, neon lights and candyfloss, sometimes to a bullfight.  The Spanish children were even poorer than we were, many barefoot and raggedy.

Image

We were materially very poor, living in a terrible block of flats that served as married quarters, but which had  the most wonderful views across the Gibraltar bay towards Spain.   There was No T.V. but we grew to love the radio.  In fact we had quite a large radio which was combined with a record player and set into a cocktail cabinet.  Oh yes, we would often listen to the Goon show or the Navy Lark, drinking cocktails and eating our bread and dripping.  But mostly we were out and about running free across the rock.  Once, on a cool dusky Gibraltar evening,  we raided, with my big brother Peter, the storeroom of an army cookhouse.  We found great olive coloured tins containing dozens of packets of army hardtack biscuits and we moved them, unseen by adults or parents,  to our secret Europa road caves.

The caves were dotted all over the rock and proved the most perfect playground for adventurous boys.  There were no girls in those days.  We would light them with candles stolen from St. Joseph’s Catholic Church.  Often we would sit outside our caves, wearing our Second World War steel helmets, feasting on our hardtack biscuits and just watch the ships sailing into and out of the bay of Gibraltar.   There was always an aircraft carrier or a destroyer or a submarine or a troopship retuning from the East and stopping off to pick up more troops and families before leaving for England. We would sit for hours watching in utter peace.  It was during those times that I fell so deeply in love with Gibraltar, my dulcet rock. One day I shall go back.  I know I shall be disappointed but I must, someday, return.

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45 thoughts on “On being a boy in 1950’s Gibraltar

  1. Dear Sir

    I am a Gibraltarian born and bred and I have found your reminiscences of your childhood in1950s Gibraltar as very interesting especially the “discovery” of the wartime helmets and the existence of a Sherman Tank in the play area. I have been researching the existence and use of Tanks in Gibraltar for the past two and a half years and have collated considerable infomation from wartime documents and eyewitness reports. I would nevertheless be extremely grateful if you could contact me via email in order to enquire further on your recollections of said tank.
    Thanking you in anticipation.

    Ian

    • Dear Ian,

      I just came across this web site by chance.
      I was also a soldiers son. Dad was stationed in gib. from early 1957 until late 1959. Our family lived in ”B” block at Europa, I am very familiar with the tank that was refered to , I believe it was a ”Churchhill”, which was the British name for the American Sherman tank.
      At the time I lived there,the gun barrel elevation was welded but the turret could be rotated by pushing on the barrel itself. The hatches were welded open,but, oddly,the fuel filler caps were not.My younger brother lost his eyebrows and a little of his hair when he and a friend tried to look into the fuel tank using a match.
      I guess it was a different time, I can’t imagine kids being allowed to play on something like that today.
      We also found underground workshops and offices, all circa WW2. There was a really large one off Europa road heading towards govenors beach, just past where the old brickworks or cement plant used to be.
      Anyway,just thought you might be interested in some old Gib. trivia.

      John.

      • Dear John

        You may not believe it but I have just seen your comments to the subject. Your recollections are really excellent though I don’t suppose your Dad ever took a picture of this tank, did he?
        A picture of this tank is proving elusive, it was easier to find King Tut’s tomb than this!

        Ian

      • Dear Ian,
        I went through a lot of the old Gibraltar photographs,,but no joy i’m afraid on shots of the tank.
        Lots of Catalan Bay, Europa Point etc: . All mainly family pictures I’m afraid.
        Sorry I can’t be of more help.
        I took a look at Gib. on Google Earth,seems like it’s changed out of all recognition,like I should be surprised.

      • Dear John

        Thanks for the reply. Like I said before, a photo of the Sherman is elusive, anyway if you are interested I would be glad to send you some modern pics of the Europa area including B block, just send me your email address.

        regards

        ian

      • Thanks Ian, It would be fun to see what the old place looks like today.
        Our family lived at number 5, which was on the upper level of B block.
        My email address is – jp.west@comcast.net
        Regards,
        John.

  2. just been reading this the tank was put in to the sea at the lighthouse on a calm sea day you can see the gun.

    • Oh no!why was that.i suppose these days it was deemed as dangerous health and safety?id haved to have seen that againin situ!

    • When I was there (1959-61) there was a Sherman in the water next to the Europa Point lighthouse. The tank behind E Block was still there. It was a cast-hull, 75mm gun M4 with applique armour covering the ammunition stowage areas. The turret hatch was open, and we boys cracked the welds which prevented the turret from rotating. Ergo, hours of fun riding on the gun barrel. My research tells me there were originally 12 Sherman tanks in Gib. The US Army did an audit, and recalled 9 of them, leaving 3 in place. One is in the water, one was behind E Block. Where was the 3rd tank located, I wonder?

      Cheers,
      Cliff Sweeting

  3. British must STOP COLONIALISM, Nazis invaders were removed from many countries but the Brit invaders keep invading countries and lands as Ulster-Ireland, Malvinas-Argentina or Gibraltar-Spain. In Gibraltar the original population were killed, raped and forced to exile, now you can only see settlers from the whole Commonwealth, squatters. This is where live most of the REAL gibraltarians exiliated.

  4. Hi just found this!lived in Gib with my two sisters.Dad was military police.We were there from 1958-1961 .Id love to see a photo of the tank.I used to tell my girls about it.i can still smell the grease inside!we used to slide down it,girls and boys alike!i remember a few of us exploring one of the caves.wed frighten ourselves silly telling ghost stories.i was age8- 11 when we lived there.i used to play in my clubhouse too on the verranda!it was actually a dog kennel.i have photo of me with our veg man Pedro on his donkey!im wearing bare feet and still do indoors.we often reminecse about those times our hearts are always there and never left.our roots as far as im concerned.i remember the levant and when it rained it poured!i also remember a fluke snow fall,just a fewflakes at rhodesdia point it was in the newspaper!.i could see the coast of spain and the outline of morroco on a good day and the popoises and thge lighthouse .we all miss it terribly still.wesley House on a saturday and a piece of bread pud.Nuffield swimming pool and the marina,playing in navy blues after school.lucky for us an early finish in summer,my sisters at st Christopher’s and me at st georges.the head was calledb!mister wall and he was well respected.i believe it was Thursday’s the school woulkd all walk down to the church for a service.siestas were gt if there was a fiesta on near la linea in spain.great fairs.always tanned but often covered in calomine!picnics were frequent either at one of the local beaches..spanish countryside or at ghuitares beach.i yearn for those days back.we couldnt afford holidays but who needed it?we were. Living a childrens paradise!god bless you gib and all our childhood memories!maybe we can afford to return one day!x Debbie Sayers was Goodridge

    • im one of debbies sisters the youngest one even though i was very young when we went to gibralta i still have very fond memories it was the happiest place i lived in and will never forget i went on a cruise in 2012 and the first place we stopped was gib all my childhood memories came flooding back the smell the beach caves the lavant the apes was truley a paridise to me im hoping to return for a holiday this year with my husband always in my heart gibralta x katrina ockendon was goodridge

    • Debbie, I loved reading your post. The 2yrs I spent in Gib. were absolute heaven. Lived at Europa Point in E Block from 1959 till 1961. The old Sherman tank was right behind our block, between it and the Europa Boys’ Club (old AA gun emplacement). Dad was in the Prince of Wales’s Own Regiment of Yorkshire (PWO), and they went to the Rock after a 9mths posting to Aden. My sisters Sylvia and Patricia went to St Christopher’s; I went to Holy Trinity Grammar. The Nuffield Pool was our Mecca in the summer: half-days at school, then we’d pack our picnic tea and troop down through the tunnel, through Little Bay to the pool. Evenings would be spent at the Globe Cinema in Europa, watching old AKC war movies. What more could a boy want? Please keep in touch.

      Cheers,
      Cliff Sweeting

      • Cliff,I tooo remember tge times you mentioned!Coming for school walking through tge tunnel and tea on the beach e.t.c.I do remember the cinema and seeing Sinbad and Tom thumb ,thinking they were magical!I had a friend called Sylvie who red hair.I. remember other names too; Brian Moxon,Sammy GordonDavid Kingdon and more.
        I revisited Gib in November 2014.There were loads of memories but alas,as I expected ore sea reclaimed for building and less open gree space!Still,the memories hold well.A fortnight for me was not long enough to find and revisit some memories of places which could,or may not exist any more.the little bay is no longer tgere but cocreted with a small building!I wasnt sure if tge Nuffield was the pool I saw down that point as I remembered being a way off but of corse that could be that I was smaller then and perhaps there was a route via car
        The highlight was finding C block where we lived .I cant tell you how my tummy jumped and I was back there all the memories flooding my head.Very emotional! And looking over the lighthouse ,although now cordoned off for health and safety.The beautiful view to Morroco and witnessing the Levant! Seeing dolphins!
        There is a lot more concrete there too instead of beach.I think the exit of St Michaels Mustve been originally the entrance as that is where I remember the wall wed lean over looking out to the harbour
        How short is Main St now though,when I seem to remember it being much longer and of couse some shops I remember that are no longer there.I did see the corner shop which facinated me as child though.
        Wesley House apparently still there but never had chance to find my school St Georges! La linea of course still there but all so different now!…..Too much to go on and two weeks not enough! Id love to go back but of course memories are mine and my sistersnot my husband so he has no wish to revisit.Maybe I have to persuade him all over again !

  5. Gib will always stay with us.It always comes into conversation somewhere when we all meet up.We lost our dear Mum 2011 and my parents had a chance at least,before then,to have a few return visits.Mum told us that every night shed sit at thge pool( The Bristol ,I think) and bathe her feet whilst the sunset and closed her eyes to reminese.At one point on first return, Mum spied what she thought was our old quarter,and scampered up a steep slope to investigate( around 80 at the time but very young for her age!)She came back hurrying down to tell Dad who shed left at bottom of slope in his electrivc scooter!( she called it his chariot!)They later went to investigate and the family invited them in to look around!They enjoyed the rest of the day there!My sister saved for years and went on a cruise last year with my nephews family,where Gib was on the days itinerary.She said when she got there the feeling was that shed never left and had come home..She could close her eyes and was bought to tears as the memories came flooding back.She hopes to return again and has been saving for a holiday in Gib this year.Im trying to persuade my husband!I know It wont look the same but the igniting of memories ,tge smell and to touch the soil of wonderful childhood would mean the world.No one who has never experienced those times and memories will understand but Gib holds a great chunk of me and there is always a piece of the rock in me!

      • After Gib it was Blighty for a year then France,three years,After that Belgium for three months onto last posting to Germany- three years! Dad wecame backtoEngland summerof ’68 and Da left services following year! I met my husband as art students inPompeye and we eventually settled in Essex where We still live!My huuby tires of thge Gib stories especially at family gatherings! But like I said Gib is still with Dad and my sisters! Its good to hearhow others of similar age reme mber Gib and their childhood memories ofthat time.I dont think it was rose tinted glasses but the freedom of childhood in that setting at those times Would be wonderous to any child and Im grateful for that!

    • Lovely to read all your comments. I was stationed in Gibraltar with my parents in 1968. My father was in the RAF, I too have such wonderful memories of Gib and roaming free and I was only 7 years old but it was so safe .
      I have been ill recently and my partner said that When my chemotherapy is finished that I can choose to go anywhere in the world on holiday so of course I chose Gib! We go in July staying at the Rock Hotel I know that you will all understand why it was my only choice. Can’t wait to go back it has been a life long dream.

      • We have some good memories from all our postings but Gib is engraved in my heart and Im so lucky to have had that experience.I wouldnt change my childhood for the world.like you,I dream about returning but Im still working on hubby! I hope the journey will be a memorable one and help you on your way to recovery.Medicine for the soul! Enjoy walking the old path.

      • Hi Kate, small world, my family were in Gib in 68, Dad was in the Royal Irish Rangers. I was only 3 at the time, my sister would have been 7. I went to St Georges, my sister, Sheelagh, went to St Christophers!

    • Debbie, some of the names you mention I remember, Brian Moxon in particular whose father was a Staff-Sergeant in our Regiment (1 PWO). Your friend Sylvie with the red hair, sounds like my sister Sylvia (who, sadly, passed away earlier this year). My other sister, Patricia (Trisha) is now living in the UK. I remember some of the hair-raising things I did on the Rock: like climbing the 150ft cliffs behind our married quarters. Mum would’ve had a fit if she’d known the risks I was taking! And, of course, the tunnels – exploring them was every boy’s dream of adventure. John MacIntosh Square in town, was the civic hub (law courts, police station, Cathedral etc.). And the ice-cream vendor who’d tour the quarters, yelling out, “Wall’s Ice Cream!” to announce his presence. (This, despite the fact that his pushbike-mounted ice-cream cart advertised Neilsen’s Ice Cream.) The hundreds of black-clad middle-aged women who crossed the border each day to work as domestic servants for the British – to the anger of Generalissimo Franco. And an old itinerant, known to the locals as Tobaiba, whom we Brits nicknamed Malaga Joe. Returning to gloomy, rainy England after all those glorious technicolour experiences, was a severe disappointment. School in particular – after two years of the focussed, dedicated Christian Brothers – was never the same again.
      Cheers,
      Cliff

  6. I know my sister recently posted on here recently with some of her memories but I cant see them here?She says she can read on her computer.Im not that aufait withe mechanics of computer,just wondered how I could read or If Im up to date.Ive enjoyed followingso far.Milton ,also Ive made cotribution to TACA and have no idea if Ive responded on relevant site!Thanks for passing on on this information.N.B my grammar is fine normaly but I get fed up correcting auto type! I type generally type one figered so it takes ages.My daughters acopywriter and proofreader and despairs of me!

    • I have just worked out the reason for that. I have to “approve” comments before the site publishes them and I am not very diligent about visiting the site and approving. My fault alone and nothing to do with any lack of computer skills on your part. A fault which I admit to sharing and have to confess that were it not for spellcheck I would have been drummed out of the barristers profession years ago! Indeed you might enjoy reading a brief history of my own disastrous education as a soldier’s child:

      https://broadsidesdotme.wordpress.com/2013/06/03/queens-school-rheindalen-and-the-profumo-affair/

      • Thanks Milton,at least I know why!Yes ,Id be quite happy read your memoirs! I have so many myself and enjoy reading like minded memories.Isnt this how history develops!At least a version of it!

  7. Just read your school recollections.Quite enjoyable.Memories I think help mould us in life or are there to reflect on in times of melancholy!

  8. I was born in the UK in 1936 to a Gibraltarian Mother Army dad,I have lived in Gib on and of since 1937/1954,,my family and I lived in E Block Europa Point, and Europa Pass, i and my brothers always had a good telling of from my dad for being in places where we shouldn’t have been, loved going down to Camp Bay , through the long slopping tunnel down the rickety steps, hard work going back up again, there was also Jacobs Ladder behind E Block that we used to go up,( told of my dad not to go there ), one thing about Gib in those days there was always something to do,, Church on Sundays at the Garrison Church, my dad used to pick me up and take us to Catalan Bay,( I used to wear my swimming costume under my Choir Dress) Saturday s my dad used to bake sausage rolls and pies and get things ready for the beach,We had a tent in Catalan Bay my mum used to order hot water to make tea, Great times, been back a few times, first time I was looking forward to have a swim at the Montaque Baths, but alas its gone,Regards Mary

    • Remember tge old ricket steps going down to Camp bay.we t tgere regularly and can still hear the sound my flip flops on the wet stoney floor of the cave.We lived in C block 1958-61.Best childhood there!

  9. I loved the beaches and finding my own ” mini pools” to sit in!my own private spa! I remember running onto the beach from swimming and as lots of costumes of the time,they would sag with collection of wet sand! Returning to picnic,cucumber sandwiches were peppered with a condiment of sand and Mum would tell us to go back and rinse the sand off in the sea.i lost count of the numerous times i did so and came back only to put my hands back onto the sandy picnic blanket! Also the prolific amount of calomine that was used and the itchyness as it dried!

  10. Hooray!Cant wait!A wish come true!Am visiting my favourite home, Gib ,in November! My youngest sister too! I know everywhere is built up these days but hopefuly I can explore and find some place that was my Gib!

  11. Hello John… What a splendid account of growing up in Gibraltar! I am a born and bred Gibraltarian although I left and joined the Royal Navy at 14 in ’68. I go back regularly of course, as we do. I came across your site by accident but have been enthralled by your lovely reminisces and the many nice comments… we’ll forget the idiot from San Roque (there’s always one, surprised there’s so few). I can relate to a lot of your memories. Although I was brought up closer to town, in the Humphreys buildings by the Alameda gardens, I used to spend a lot of time in Europa, enjoying similar adventures and playing with school chums both locals and ‘English’ ones, of which we had many. Anyhow, I wanted to leave a comment to say thank you and also to invite you to visit our Facebook group page (I am one of the Admins) dedicated to Gibraltar Old Photos… as we have one very rare photo of your dearly remembered Sherman tank! So, when you have a moment, come pay us a visit. It’s a closed group but I shall be delighted to approve you on your request! Hope to see you soon. Meantime, thank you again for your very nice post… hasta luego! 🙂
    All the best
    Ernest

  12. I am ‘big brother’ Peter that john relates. Gib was marvellous to me, although today I would probably be in ‘care’ for the criminal exploits we got up to.
    I remember we would slither up a water drain to bypass the locked gat at the top of some steps leading from Europa Point to Windmill hill that had some glorious big naval guns pointing out to sea
    There were also machine gun posts overlooking little bay and the Nuffield pool, that contained outline pictures of enemy aeroplanes.
    We would go fishing near the raw sewage outlet down the steps from the sports field near bomb proof house catching horrible contaminated fish

    I went to the Dockyard and technical Shool, not the Grammar, as I was a bit thick, but I liked it there. the head was Commander Smart a RN man and a real gentleman – we would play sorts on the playing fields that are now tourist bus stations, or on the Navy playing fields near the Navy Cinema
    School in the morning, back in the school buses to the glorious hot afternoons, down the dank wet tunnel and the wooden steps to the Nuffield pool, or snorkelling in Little Bay or exploring the multitude of underground caves – it was during one of these explorations that my friend came a cropper and had to be rescued by the Fire Service – for some obscure reason I was given a Humane Society certificate for this – the certificate is now lost in the memories of time
    I used to love wandering along Irish town where the shipping agents had models of ships and the smells were of roasted coffee beans, along main street to stare at the rows and rows of cheap watches in Indian shop fronts, the Emporium near the Catholic Cathedral to examine the sweet counters (what on earth was an Emporium I wondered)
    I remember a shop just about opposite the Cathedral whose windows were stacked high with sea-soap – we used to have a bath in sea water as fresh water was in short supply

    I found the steps leading up from main street up the rock very romantic- they went on and on with houses and bread-smelling bakeries pressing in on each side. Just like Naples as I later discovered.
    Sometimes to the beach near the airport landing strip where planes would land and take off just a few feet above our heads. Camping out in pellucid warm nights on a rocky outcrop at Catalan bay where an hotel now sits – to our surprise we witnessed one of our teachers and his friends skinny dipping in the warm mediterranean
    Catalan village was a poor fishing village at that time

    We would walk from Europa point through tunnels to Sandy bay singing in the clear summer air, passing assorted military installations as we went

    Massive American carriers would dock outside the harbour moles and the Andrea Doria, a lovely Italian liner would rush by carrying Italian migrants to the USA. This streamlined modern liner would later sink in the Atlantic near the NY coast

    Lovely times. I left in 1957, very sad to go and went to a much unhappier place, but that is another tale

    • I remember the Emporium,the caves the little bay ,also the”Anchor” sea soap we used in the bath.The small kitchen had running fresh water but the bath was sea water.Probably cost a lot in spas these days in UK! We’d sometimes get bits of seaweed in the bath!What memories ,I miss.I went to .St Georges and wonder if any one has a pic of it?Sad the tank no longer there ,I usex to love slicind down it and would even play inside.I can still smell tge grease!

      • Debbie, the saltwater baths were brilliant! Of course, in summer we were in the Nuffield Pool straight after lunch (also saltwater, but heavily chlorinated). Then a quick freshwater shower before getting dressed & climbing those wooden steps; the gloomy, echoing tunnel back to E Block; and a family trip to the cinema for a good, healthy dose of British war propaganda: Dunkirk or Sink The Bismarck, that sort of thing. My return home – to the cynical, hard-nosed attitudes of my fellow Hartlepudlians – was a rude awakening.

  13. I lived in Gib 1946-47 in New Camp RAF by the Yacht Club and flying boat hangar. Went to school in the Covent opposite the Governor’s House in the High street, I was six- seven at the time. I will add more later.

  14. Hi, really enjoying the comments, not a bad memory among them. My dad was a sergeant in the Royal Artillery, we lived in Gib from 1954 or ’55 to 1958. I was only 5 so memories are a bit sketchy. We lived in 9&10 D block, Europa Point. There were 6 of us kids so two apartments had to be joined together. My dad was involved in providing the tank for all the kids to play on. The turret was welded after a boy got his foot stuck. I went to a Catholic school in town and ran away when a nun told us we would be put in the shed with the rats! So I was transferred to a school in the barracks. I loved my time in Gib and on the day we left to go to Blackpool UK of all places, I felt so sad! I have returned for very brief visits since and it’s never the same when you go back anywhere when so much time has passed. I left a small piece of my heart when we left in ’58. I will endeavour to put old photos on Gibraltar old photos 2 on Facebook. (Unfortunately none of the tank!)

  15. Great to hear the memories of Gibraltar. My Dad was in the dockyard and I first went there in’48 living in Cormarant and started school in St John’s Annex.
    We returned in ’52 and lived in Cumberland buildings we had a wonderful childhood spending our time in the caves, swimming in Rosis bay, fishing in Camp Bay. We caught the green school bus to St. Christopher’s school that finished at one o’clock in the summer , and went straight to either Risia or Camp bay. Cumberland buildings were great to play hide and seek. On the Royal tour we had bunting all over the flats and had a party in the patio I’ve a photo of the Royal family passing the flats with me watching the Royal car. I was invited on the Vanguard for a tour, hence I spent 24 years in the Navy.
    Every time when I called at Gib I would go off alone visiting my childhood haunts.
    I even had the nerve 20 years later to knock on my old home to look around. The buildings have now gone and new luxury flats have been built
    I now live in New Zealand, but I had my wonderful memories of growing up in Gibraltar. Bob Handy handyscan@aol.com

    • Lovely I do recall the tank , and spent hours skinny dipping in Rosie bay club . Army at the time 1959 .

  16. I’m amazed at how many times that gloomy, dank tunnel leading to the rickety timber steps, has featured in so many people’s memories. It was an iconic feature of my time in Gib. I know the contrast – between the gloom and the sudden burst of vibrant scenery at the end – will always be with me. And my time there was a very British experience: Gibraltarians and HM Forces people alike, shared a dislike and distrust of the embittered Franco dictatorship which was our neighbour. The Sherman was also an icon – relic of a war in which Gib was a lynchpin for British and Allied naval and air power, culminating in the landings in French North Africa (Operation Torch). I loved the delay on the way to Four Corners (I’d take Dad his lunch when he was Guard Commander) if the RAF Hawker Hunters or Avro Shackletons were taking-off. And the displays of naval power were endless: British, American, French or Netherlands naval units were forever occupying berths in the harbour. In short, the perfect home for a militarily-obsessed teenage boy.

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