I think I was in training to be a munitions consultant during my chemistry forays in 1968. I always loved science and it was one of the few subjects I did well at in school.

Making things explode was not only creative and clever, but in most cases ensured some amount of collateral damage.

During the last few days of school at the end of the year, I though it appropriate that I show off my skills at making real flying rockets out of medicine pill shells.

The shells were emptied of the contents and replaced with a special Attila mixture of stuff  that when ignited would propel them to great distances (about 20ft).

I can’t recall the mixture, but it contained sulphur and phosphorous. To add flight to these creations, I glued small paper wings to each side of the capsule and pierced a small hole at one end so I could light it. I made about 20 of these and took them to school.

My classroom was on the top floor facing the other part of the building in that alcove section to the left of the main entrance. The windows were aluminium and had about a 3 inch sill, a perfect launching platform.

All that stood in the way was the teacher, who I can’t remember, but I think was a stand in for the last few weeks of school. Anyhow, the teacher left the room which gave me the opportunity to set up a few “rockets” on the window sill and fire them off. This had to have been one of the most exciting moments of 1968.

The class mobbed me as I lit the first one – fizza, someone yelled out. The pressure was now on to make these things fly. Off they went, flying aimlessly from the window, one almost reaching the other side of the building. By now the kids in the facing classrooms had spotted the launch site and were waving their arms in what appeared to be great excitement. By now however, the classroom had filled up with smoke to such an extent that it was impossible to clear.

In walks the teacher – out runs the teacher!

Minutes later Mr Beaton and cavalry arrive down below our window. I could see them pointing up. Moments later they burst into the room and made a beeline directly at me. Again I can’t remember the words used, but I’m sure terrorism came into it.

They took me outside to view the scene. I thought the building looked quite trendy with its white streaking down the brown brickwork. Admittedly the streaking wasn’t uniform but certainly creative.

Unfortunately they didn’t share my artistic prowess nor my enthusiasm for chemistry, and accordingly suspended me from school.

I guess these should read – “these are the pages from the log of starship Attila, enterprising and misunderstood.

Attila