My writings.
Book Signing.
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A STAR IS BORN
On 14th May 2025, in a quiet community room of Stockport’s Bredbury Library an historical literary meeting took place. The event, largely unseen by Stockport’s residents, the few that were there were headed by Stockport councilor Dan Olivier. The rest of the meeting of about 30 people were made up of people from as far as Barrow-in-Furness in the north and Southampton in the south, other visitors represented, Algeria, India, Italy, Zambia, China, and South Africa (two of which had flown in for the event). If you listened to the banter, one heard a little Arabic and Afrikaans being spoken.
They had gathered to attend an extraordinary event where Jamie Richard Smith, now from Stockport was Tabeling not 1 but 6 books, 2 being Fantasy novels the others containing about 500 pieces of poetry all with AI generated drawing all of which he had created to enhance his works. What was extraordinary was that Jamie is a 90-year-old R.A.F. veteran and that it had taken 65 years of writing to produce the books.
When the audience had settled, Jamie was introduced by Maria Nother from Stockport Libraries, he then seated himself before his audience and started to tell his life story from notes often breaking away to describe incidents like being with King George VI and being chased across a car park by Queen Elizabeth in her Austin Princess. Other stories followed involving a royal audience with a princess in her bedroom, Richard Burton, Anthony Quayle, South African Presidents, Botha and de Klerk, and Pope John Paul 2.
As he talked, he leaned forward and the audience leaned forward to listen to him as he went on to talk about Africa, where he had lived for over 40 years, being charged by thirst-crazed elephants, chased by a roaring lion, being followed by the poisonous spitting cobra and the beauty of Africa’s snowcapped mountains. The purpose of these stories was that his writings are based on his life and the experiences gained in his 90 years of life. The dream - to see these books adapted and made into action packed films.
One by one he described his books, ‘A Fishy Tale”, a fantasy story based on World War 3 where the sea creatures declare war on the human race. Because of pollution in the oceans and seas of the world, the sea creatures using armaments from sunken war ships began to fight back, being led by a Dublin Bay prawn called Mr. O’Shun and an octopus called ‘The Professor’; (the first book sold was to be sent to a professor of Marine Biology). This because of it being comparable to ‘Animal Farm’, the research into marine biology and its message about pollution.
The second novel ‘The Rape of Africa’ describes how a second country through various means buys its way into African affairs with the intention of taking the continent’s mineral and other wealth, this besides creating living space for its own over populated country. Again, with the situation developing into all-out war. All this based on observations made while living for well over 40 years in East and Southern Africa.
The last four books are based on poetry written while living or holidaying in Africa, and Europe. A good portion of the poems concentrating on Stratford-on-Avon, his home town and North West England, where he now lives. This was followed by several readings from his books which brought forth laughter and a few tears.
The event finished with a lively period where books were bought, signed and discussed. This besides a promise that more books already written will be published within the next 6 months.
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Jamie Ian Smith.
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Shadows.
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A sunny day in Stockport.
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8Oth Anniversary of VJ Day.
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I enjoyed this poem which I have reread several times. I also like the ChatGPT images which you have created to accompany them. AI is certainly adding to our hobby by allowing relatively unskilled philatelists (like me) to create images which previously we could not have created by ourselves unless we were skilled graphic artists.
Regarding your poem, I understand you are crying for the past awfulness of the times you lived through as a boy when Britain stood up to the Nazis and proudly fought alone against them for a year so that European civilisation would not perish from the face of the earth. The Germans came with 1oos of bombers and levelled large parts of our cities, like London, Coventry and Hull, night after night. Britain's turning point in this war of attrition, one not unlike the Ukraine's today, came with the German invasion of Russia in June 1941. For the firest time in a year, we were not alone. In December of the same year we gained another ally in the USA when Japan attacked Pearl Harbour. Britain acquiited itself with honour in WW2, fighting to preserve our country, its heritage, not to mention Europe's.
Where are the Bright Sunlit Uplands that the victorious British were promised? Many Britons see it as all downhill from here. There is no Alfred today, no King tough enough to turn back the tide of migrant invasion. In accomodating the invaders and kow-towing to every fashionable liberal left cause, our political leaders have diluted our value system so thoroughly that everything traditionally British is rubbished and relegated to worthless third class. The flags of our fathers that were flown in the faces of the Nazis are seen as evil racist symbols, often banned from everyday public display. Many older people experience a sense of loss and betrayal today. Younger people are lucky to have been taught a third rate version of British history. Their ignorance gives them a lot less to cry over.
Steve, the poem comes out of what I experienced last Saturday night. Yes I sang all the old songs, but as I recalled the words from the past so came the memories and yes I am an old softie and I had tears in my eyes as I remembered where I was drawing the words from; that was the experiences that I had as a child.
I did watch Coventry burning! I did see the bus converted ambulances bringing the injured into Stratford Hospital! I did walk in Birminngham with the houses still smoldering! I did walk New Street and watched the firemen and wardens trying to get things back to normal by fencing rubble off in the street! And yes I did carry a gasmask! And I did listen to German planes at night (we as, kids could tell the difference by the engine sounds)! I did go to the Hipperdrome to see George Formby in 1940, I know it was 1940 as dad went to Gosport with his barrage balloon during the Battle of Britain. And yes I did watch the Wellington Aircraft towing Howza Gliders when they practiced for Operation Market Garden! And yes I did see the strips of tin foil being dropped to confuse the German Radar when the Poles were sent off to do battle! And yes I did celebrate the origingal VJ celebrations in Mountain Ash in 1945.
AND YES I DID CRY!
All the rest is poetic licence!
Gone.
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