There is no-one on the face of this planet who knows how I became a Welsh Nationalist except my friend Tegid and myself. The only other person who knew the story was Dr. Heinkel, but he died three months ago.
As I said, there’s no-one who knows the story besides Tegid and myself. I haven’t told it to anyone, and that’s for three reasons. Firstly, I didn’t think anyone would believe my story. Secondly, if anyone did believe it, they would criticise me for dabbling with powers which, so far, are beyond our understanding. Thirdly, the English Sunday newspapers would be bound to get their hands on the story sooner or later, and they’d make something very precious to me into just a penn’orth of entertainment for their readers.
In his letter yesterday, however, Tegid told me that it was my duty to write the story down.
‘Remember,’ he said, ‘that Dr. Heinkel is dead, and there’s no knowing what will happen to you and me. Some day in the future, what happened to you will become commonplace all over the world. It will be valuable for the historians of the future to know about the first experiment in this field that took place in Wales. Get it down on paper, old boy, as soon as you get a moment.’
Well, Tegid’s letter swung the balance. For the sake of tomorrow’s historians and scientists, and in respectful memory of Dr. Heinkel, I decided to write the story. Not to be published, of course. I have no appetite for the fame that would be bound to follow the publication of a story like this. But apart from any historical or scientific merit that the story may have, I’ll get some measure of relief by setting down on paper something which is too heavy a burden for a man to carry hidden in his heart all his life.
So, here I go, starting at the beginning…