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I took £10 out my jar which, after another year's repairs, stood at over £100, a king's ransom in those days. I wanted to buy a battery charger and some test instruments. The war had stopped new stuff appearing on the market but second hand equipment was still available.So, one bright morning in March 1942, I got the bus to Eastbourne station. I bought a return ticket to Victoria. The train, when it arrived, was dirty and slow. We made our way up to London. It was a far cry from my memories of 1934 when we first moved. As we made our way through the outskirts of London I saw many landmarks were now piles of rubble. We went through Balham, and I saw the area where I was born for the first time in eight years. Everywhere looked grubby and worn down. I reached Victoria, caught the District railway to Charing Cross and, with my map and a copy of 'Wireless World', I went around the shops who advertised. Everyone was very helpful and my knowledge obviously impressed more than a few of the. Surprised, I agreed.The trail was a half-dozen miles up in the hills. I stopped in a turnout where the car would be in the shade most of the day, and pointed out an almost-hidden trail leading into the woods. The property was owned by the same people who owned the cabin and was quite private.Daphne took the knapsack first, and we started off. After a short, sharp climb over a ridge we descended into the valley of a small stream that drained into the lake. The walk was enjoyable, with birds singing and squirrels in the trees and a light breeze to keep the woods from getting stuffy."Can we talk about last night?" she asked after we'd been on the trail for about half an hour."Sure, but let's stop first. There's a good spot by the stream up here a little way. We can stop there." I wanted to talk to her, too, as well as to my brother.We found it about ten minutes later, a little thicket that couldn't be seen from the trail unless you knew where it was. We sat, pulled out Diet Cokes, and.
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