Norval Black, who now lives in Wormit in north east Fife, was a very young boy growing up in Rosneath during World War Two.

Here he records memories of that time.

I WAS very young, and being in Rosneath at that time made a deep impression which has remained with me all my life.

THERE were nine Italian Cafes in Helensburgh that I was aware of when I was a child.

Joseph Antonelli owned many of them. The Roma Café was furthest east at 11 East Clyde Street.

IN ANOTHER article, posted here on January 30 2017, I described how I, and several friends, were introduced to the Royal Navy, shortly after they had commandeered Ardencaple Castle. That was in 1942 when I was six years old.

When we discovered that we, the neighbourhood children, were welcome on the castle grounds we no longer had to approach them by sneaking through the Ardencaple Woods, or maybe they were the Castle Woods.

ALTHOUGH the Second World War came along shortly after I did and it extended through my younger years, I have only fond memories of that period in Helensburgh.

The fact is that I have always found it difficult to imagine a better childhood.

IN EARLY 1946, shortly before my tenth birthday and through no effort on my part, I became one of the first junior members of Helensburgh’s Craighelen Tennis Club.

When my father announced my membership he said that it was a prestigious club and, while I was not sure what he thought that meant, I was pretty certain that the club members would be snobs. It turned out that there were a few, but very few.

By Isa McKinnon, as told and recorded by Doris Gentles.

I LEFT school and started work in 1940 — no teenage years for us.

I received my call-up papers aged eighteen. I wanted to join the WRNS but my parents did not want me to, as my brother was a Royal Marine Commando and they thought one member of the family in the navy was quite enough.

I WAS awake but I did not want to open my eyes. My head and throat hurt, just like yesterday.

My Dad spoke to me and I saw him and my sister by my bed. Just then Mrs Cameron, a neighbour, came into view.

OLD photographs of Helensburgh Swimming Pool bring the memories flooding back of swimming before and after the arrival of the outdoor pool.

I recall how central a part the pool and club played in the lives of many local children.

I DEARLY loved both my Grannies, although they had very different natures.

I once described them by saying that I had a cup of tea and a teabread with my Helensburgh granny and afternoon tea with my Kirkcudbrightshire one.

TIME certainly flies when you are having fun . . . and for me the past half-century has been lots of fun.

It was on Monday August 31 1965 that I first arrived in the then Helensburgh Advertiser office at 17-19 East King Street to replace Tom Gallacher — later one of Scotland’s leading playwrights — as the reporter for owner and editor Craig M.Jeffrey.

IT BEGAN with a picture of an attractive lady with a striking hat, taken by a Helensburgh photographer.

I came across the photo, and on the back it gave some clues: the name Mrs Snell Anderson, the date Christmas 1903, and the address Dalmeny.

IN the late summer of 1971 a young German girl arrived on Loch Lomondside on a hiking holiday — and disappeared. What followed turned out to be one of the most fascinating yarns from the early days of my career in journalism. This is what I wrote for the Helensburgh Advertiser of September 17 that year . . .

THE RAIN lashed down in buckets. The midges were out in force. The road curved on for seemingly endless mile after mile. It was cold, wet and miserable — and the mystery of Frauke Kissenkotter was about to begin.