The letter by David Broughton (October 28), expressing his concern about the cutting of sick and disabled peoples' benefits, would have been well received if he had not shown such utter hatred of our democratic way of life and of our Royalty.

His dream of living in communist Cuba, where life is apparently perfect, makes one wonder whether he would be able to write to his local paper condemning the Communist party.

I had my experience of the underhanded way this party works when I was an 11-year-old. It was way back in the early Thirties when the Communists and Blackshirts (fascists) used to hold their meetings at the open market-end of The Level.

All the kids in Southampton Street would spend their evenings playing football on The Level and this particular evening at about 9pm, we were packing up to go home when two men introduced themselves and asked if we would all like to join a club. Thinking it was a football club, we all agreed.

We were taken over to Oxford Place to this club and plied with cakes, sandwiches and drinks and then had our names taken.

We were asked to return the next evening to sign in as members and went home quite happy.

When my brother and I arrived home, our parents were worried why we were so late and when we told them, my father, usually a placid man, lost his temper.

This club was the local Communist HQ and the two men were leading members.

Needless to say, my older brothers escorted us next evening to confront these men.

Frank Edwards,

-Brighton