his three little fairies for help, Flora, Fauna and Merryweather. They put a spell on Prince Philip’s sword, chanting: ‘Sword of justice, sword of good, strike home hard and strike home good.’ Prince Philip then took aim, throwing his sword into the dragon’s heart, killing it and by so doing, winning the day.
At the time, the film itself lost money. I think it too closely resembled the story line of the first full length animated feature film released in 1937, Snow White and The Seven Dwarfs. Also, by the late nineteen-fifties they were becoming very expensive to make. Each individual frame had to be hand-painted which was very labour intensive. Sleeping Beauty was the last to be made that way. The next full length animated feature, 101 Dalmatians, released in 1961, used a new, more automated process, which enabled the film to make a profit, so setting the standard for all future releases. The actress who plays Carla, the factory owner in Coronation Street, reminds me of Cruella de Vil in 101 Dalmatians, even the voice sounds like her. I will never forget the scene when she grabs the child’s teddy bear and says, ‘You will never see Teddy again.’ Well, you have to laugh, don’t you? It was such a terrible shock when Mister Walt Disney passed away on December 15th 1966, ten days after his 65th birthday. I’m sure everyone’s thoughts were with his wife, Lillian, and daughters, Diane and Sharon, for their sad loss. Special thanks must also be given to his brother, Mister Roy Disney, who was seven years older than Walt, but by his tireless efforts over the years, he kept the business afloat during the many difficult financial times and in so doing, ensured a lasting legacy. He carried on his brother’s good work, culminating in the opening ceremony of Walt Disney World in Florida in October 1971. Sadly, he passed away that December but, as with his brother five years earlier, I’m sure everyone’s thoughts were with his wife, Edna, and son, Roy junior. If I had been privileged enough to meet them both individually, I would have said to them, ‘Thank you, Messrs. Disney… thank you for bringing so much happiness to the world and enriching so many people’s lives.’
I must have fallen asleep in the armchair with the television still on as there was a loud knock on the door which woke me up.
“All right!” I shouted. “I’m coming. You’re making enough noise to wake the dead, I can’t get a minute’s peace.”
On opening the door, guess who was standing there… yes it was Freema, dressed in her civilian night out clothes and what a stunner she looked. A real sight for sore eyes.
“Good evening, Freema, love,” I said. “I didn’t recognise you with your clothes on. What can I do for you on this pleasant evening?”
After giving me a somewhat surprised look for the comment I had just made, she replied, “Hi, John. Would you like to come to the officers’ club for a couple of hours to relax and unwind, take your mind off things?”
“I don’t know about that,” I said, inviting Freema into my quarters. “I’m tired of people hounding me.”
“It’s alright, John. I have instructed everyone not to approach you.”
“Okay, you have talked me into it.” Well, how could I refuse such an offer from someone so good looking?
After a quick shower and change, we were on our way, taking the underground railway system and arriving at the officers’ club within half an hour of our departure. Freema was true to her word; no one spoke or approached us as we walked in and took a vacant table. Mind you, I would not have wanted to get on the wrong side of her.
I sat down while Freema went over to the bar to get some drinks. As she placed her order with the bartender, a very drunken looking guy who must have known her, said, “Oh, it’s Freema… our little Freema. Too good for the likes of us since you became Vadoran’s golden girl.”
“I think you have had enough to drink, Drexler,” Freema replied. “I’m surprised you have any money left to drown your sorrows with, considering how much you spend in the casinos. Go home while you can still walk.”
“Even got the plum job looking after the Guardian,” Drexler continued, “but what exactly do you have to do for him to keep him happy?”
Well, that was a comment too far. As he chuckled to himself, Freema grabbed him by the scruff of the neck with both hands and very quickly frogmarched him off the premises to the sound of loud cheers from all the other patrons in the bar. Very aggressively, she pushed him face first on to the floor and as he landed, he was sick.
“You filthy pig, you’re a disgrace to the uniform!” She snapped. Two other guys offered to take him home, but Freema said, “No, leave him in the gutter where he belongs.” As she strode back into the bar everybody, including me, was clapping. Freema, straight-faced, just collected our drinks from the bartender, who said they were on the house. Then, after all that excitement, she finally joined me for that so-called quiet drink we were meant to share together.
Her eyes were still bulging with rage, so as soon as she sat down I smiled and said, “Oh, Freema, Freema, with her big brown eyes, piercing the night like shards of light; as wise as an owl, as quick as a deer, she works me so hard I live in fear. Now she tells me all this is for my own good, to keep me alive so think on, John, be good.”
She smiled. “Silly boy.”
“Is it always as rowdy as this?” I asked.
“No, they are mostly a good bunch. It’s just the same as everywhere else, though, you will always get the odd bad apple like Drexler who will spoil things.”
Anyway, with the trauma past and the ice broken, we had a more conventional time for the rest of the evening. We laughed and joked just like ordinary people. I almost forgot there was a war on. Freema told me she had one brother who was serving on a battle cruiser in the thick of the fighting on the Naridian front. She hadn’t seen him for over a year. I suppose it was the same for countless numbers of families who were parted from loved ones indefinitely because of the war. It was such a good feeling to be able to relax and have fun just like any normal people would, especially with such a good looker as Freema. How I longed for those days to return for good. But alas, the evening was over all too quickly and it was time to leave and Freema escorted me back to my quarters.
Just before we parted, she said, “Now don’t be mad, John. The Prime Minister has arranged a gala in your honour tomorrow evening at the theatre. At the end of the night’s performance a choir will sing the only Kultarn song that has ever been found intact, which we have adopted as our national anthem.”
“Oh. I suppose if the Solaran people are going to that much trouble for me, the least I can do is make an effort, then.”
With that we bade each other good night and it was straight to bed for me to recharge my batteries for tomorrow. At least I knew what to expect now.
Twelve
After rising early I was ready by the time Freema arrived and we made our way to the training complex. She turned all the equipment on, grabbed a rucksack and packed it with the explosives and detonator, fastened the straps on the rucksack and then fitted it across her back.
“Now, John,” said Freema, “let’s try a new task on your second day.” We walked over to the mockup of the control panels of the command bunker.
“You will see,” Freema continued, “that I’ve put numbers on where the four charges must be placed to sever the signal to the transmitting beacon. Memorise it well and memorise it quickly. After a few practice sessions I will take the numbers off. I will go first to give you some idea of what I am expecting and then it will be down to you.”
We then grabbed our laser rifles and made our way over to the firing range. I switched on the holographic target system and those dancing, shiny, slippery, silver men as I had christened them, came to life. Freema turned her back on the targets and then after a count of three, she turned around, firing and hitting each hologram first time. They might be laughing at me, but Freema was taking no prisoners. As I said, the night before, she was as fast as a deer.
Next she ran over to one of the two main support columns, laid her rifle against it and then ran over to the con
trol panels. She took off the rucksack, unfastening it but keeping hold of it with her left hand while she used her right to place the four charges in the designated spots. She then dashed back behind the supporting column, taking out the detonator and setting off the charges. Picking up her rifle, she then stepped out facing the control panels and sprayed them with intense fire.
“Now, John,” Freema said, “you can see what is expected so let’s see how you do. Just work at your own pace to start with.”
As she reduced the speed of the holographic targets for my benefit, I turned my back and counted to three and then I was off. Or would you call it a spluttering start? Well, it was more like the Keystone Cops or that public information film of the nineteen seventies… do you remember Reginald Molehusband, who was trying to park his car in the correct manner. Like me, he made a right pig’s ear of the whole operation. As it said on the advert at the time, what he managed to miss at the front he more than made up for at the back. If it wasn’t the holograms I missed, it was the mistakes I managed to make with the explosives by dropping them on the floor or tripping myself up and landing head first on the floor. And what did Freema make of this comic opera? Well, at least she wasn’t shouting at me. She just had her