Like most boys of 14 I was innocent and naïve. We lived in north Wales in a place called Golden Sands. Most of my clothes were hand-me-downs as a result of wartime shortages on the one hand and poverty on the other. I had one pair of trousers and I tried my best to keep them in good repair, but like most active teenage boys at that time found this to be quite difficult. Though I was young and innocent, in many ways I was clever and able. I could hunt and provide meat for our family; I could fish and sell my catch from door to door and give my mother some badly needed cash. I could be taken advantage of but most of the time people like me were treated fairly and with kindness.

I enjoyed amazingly good health despite what had been an inadequate diet and at this crucial stage of my life was growing at an alarming rate. I remember this time of my life as being one of the happiest and most exciting periods; not a day went by without some new experience, or reading some interesting book which broadened my knowledge of the world and its people. I had recently left school but it seemed to me that now my real education had begun.

Though I was rarely ill, once in a while I have to visit our family doctor whose office was in his beautiful home in Kimnel Bay. Doctor Jones Senior, and his son Doctor Jones Junior, had a busy practice in that part of town and were widely known for their kindness and thoughtful care. Dr Jones Sr was a very short, round, bald elderly man and his son, Dr Jones Jr, was quite the opposite being a man of around 40, tall, thin with an enormous head of dark hair. There the differences ended; they both had been missionary evangalistic doctors and had spent many years in China. Just before the outbreak of World War Two they had left their Chinese Christian flock, returned to Wales and established this needed practice.

I had been very impressed by the souvenirs decorating the lovely home and surgery and awed by the religious Icons and symbols, especially as my leanings were more of an atheistic bent. I really couldn't understand how grown-up, educated people could believe such obvious tales.

Trousers in those days in Britain did not have zippers like we have today; the trouser's fly was closed by three or four buttons. I had lost first one button from my fly, then another, then as a third came adrift, to maintain my modesty I used safety pins in place of the lost buttons. On one occasion, struggling with a pin after using the bathroom, I did myself an injury to my private part. The pain for the next day or two was fairly unpleasant and I decided to see Doctor Jones. I had heard about horrible diseases caused by sexual interaction and I diagnosed myself as having an early stage of syphilis; I looked up an old medical book and was horrified to learn the seriousness of my disease; I must see my doctor. I went to Dr Jones' office and was about to knock on his surgery door when I stopped short; how could I ask this very genteel, religious man about such disgusting things? I hurried away and walked up and down the beach in an agony of torment. Finally I plucked up courage and, realising the life or death crisis, I returned and knocked on Dr Jones' surgery door.

Mrs Doctor Jones Senior opened the door and I stepped inside. I sat in the almost empty waiting room and, when my turn came, Doctor Jones Sr invited me into his examining office.

"You're Mrs Trower's boy Trevor, aren't you?" he said with a kindly smile.

"Yes Doctor Jones" I replied.

"Well, how are you Trevor" continued Dr Jones.

"Fine thank you" I replied, wondering how I could tell him about my problem. Dr Jones looked at his watch and said "Come on Trevor, what's wrong?"

"Dr Jones, I think I've got syphilis" I blurted out.

"Well, well, well, well, hmmmm" he said, "I'd better have a look."

In shame I undid the safety pin on my fly and lowered my pants.

"Have you ever been with a woman?"

"No" I replied, "I'm only fourteen" I added (what a question).

The doctor finished his brief examination. "You've not got syphilis or anything else; keep it clean and it will heal in a day or two."

A tremendous feeling of relief came over me; Mrs Doctor Jones Sr showed me to the door and did not ask me to pay the two shilling fee. As I was leaving Dr Jones came to the door and with one last piece of advice called out , "Oh Trevor, when you get home ask your mother to sew a couple of buttons on your trousers".