I was stationed in Morfa Camp in Towyn between Jan 66 and Dec 68. We were more or less regulars at the pub, especially on Saturdays in the winter. The landlord at that time was an Englishman named Len or Les. He was an authority on the history of the British Army. My fondest memory is of winter evenings sitting by the log fire and listening to the 'choir' that regularly entertained. They were led by a man called Gwynn or Glynn who ran the grocery store across the road. He had a bad leg and walked with a limp. We foreigners could not understand a word, but that did not matter - it was the harmony and quality of the songs that made it all so memorable. The village Sergeant was named Williams and he used to come in for a pint in the jug and bottle. When he finished and walked out we were all supposed to follow; couldn't stop the choir though. When they were kicked out the bar, they would sing in the gents toilet (very good acoustics mind). When he ordered them out of there, they would sing in the road outside. I could go on and on about the wonderful time I spent in Wales. I instantly fell in love with the place and do to this day.
A memory shared byon Jan 30th, 2014.
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