TURN one page on from the spread of early 21st Century free speech and opinion published below, and you'll come across a story which reads like a collision between Bravo Two Zero and Boy's Own.

The fascinating evidence of a secret army operating undercover in the villages of Worcestershire during the Second World War, unearthed with terrier-like determination by Mick Wilks, is at once thrilling and chilling.

Thrilling because, like the comic book tales upon which thousands of baby-boomers were brought up, the exploits of these farm-hands and Boy Scouts recruited by Military Intelligence to fight a covert war after a German invasion is derring-do at heart.

Chilling because, once these young men had been trained to work as unknown members of Winston Churchill's "irregular army", what was expected from them if the sound of jackboots ever echoed through our rural streets didn't bear thinking about - and still doesn't.

There'll be few senior policemen or civic leaders who read Mick Wilks' facts today, then digest Geoff Devereux' first-hand account of life as a guerilla fighter, and not feel a shiver run down their spine on behalf of their unknowing predecessors.

What cuts through the romance and leaves the story rooted in something more horrific, however, is the fact that, had the likes of Mr Devereux gone to war, a fortnight was all they could hope to live - after routine torture, of course.

So, two weeks into the holidays, next time a 16-year-old says he's bored, introduce him to the story of Winston's irregulars and the idea of being shot by invading soldiers not far from your idyllic English doorstep.

Next time an old timer says he "fought for you", do the same.

The children of the 50s, 60s, 70s and beyond "don't know they're born" either. That's very clearly right.