“Keep it or lose it!” The exact words of a certain British doctor serving at the RCAF Station in Cold Lake Alberta. It’s Halloween’s night, time for a huge celebration in the Officer’s Mess. “I’m missing the party” he mumbled again! “Make up your mind, keep it or lose it!” Referring to the foetus in my still immature body, resolved to keep me from the enjoyment of an exciting night of dancing ’till the wee hours, while listening to the sexy melodies of my idol of the fifties, Jackie Gleason, or to my favourite song: Besame Mucho. Was it a case of miscommunication with the doctor because of my inadequate English vocabulary? Intimidation, perhaps, by his heavy accented English? I soon forgot this embarrassment when the word of a transfer to Europe became reality.