Sixer of the fox patrol bearing the Union flag in 1972
When I was a ten year old kid back in 1974 I got a first inkling that my country becoming a member of an international club might have some downsides. One evening, I overheard my Grandfather, a veteran of two world wars, and my Dad, an engineer, discussing ‘the common market’. They both had misgivings about it being ‘the thin end of the wedge’. I don’t recall many of the details, but the following year during the referendum campaign, I chose to wear an ugly yellow pin badge handed out by local Labour party campaigners which said ‘NO’ on it in black block capitals. My sister chose the pretty white badge with the flying dove carrying an olive branch on it which said ‘YES’; a much more positive message from that nice Mr Heath.
By the age of twenty, I was far too busy riding fast motorcycles, courting young ladies and climbing mountains to be interested in international politics. It wasn’t until I joined the Motorcycle Action Group [MAG] that I learned about the increasing amounts of bureaucratic regulation emanating from Brussels which was affecting our lifestyle. This reached a head in 1992 when the Brussels commissioners sent a raft of new legislation called the ‘Vehicle Multi-directive’ to the European parliament for rubber stamping.
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