Most of us carry into adulthood and maturity incidents from our childhood – things we know we experienced but which sometimes seem like a dream.

That’s what seems to have happened to one reader who has presented us with a real mystery from the end of the 1960s. It’s something he isn’t proud of, so we’ve agreed to let him stay anonymous.

This incident happened going on for 40 years ago when the reader was a lad of somewhere between 13 and 16 (he can’t be specific about the year). He was a pigeon enthusiast, but not having much cash he wasn’t able to afford to buy the birds.

Instead, he and his mates would go around the area catching feral pigeons to put in his back garden loft.

Their quest one day took them into the middle of Idle – to that area of The Green which is now a car park but was then set aside for Idle Tide. Now over to the reader.

“The building to the right-hand entrance to the car park used to be derelict, the upper side wall and roof being completely missing.

“This was a great source of new birds if you were willing to climb on unsupported and rotten joists and chance your arm. However, having no luck this particular day, we widened our search to the rest of the buildings between there and Bradford Road (opposite the bottom of Thorpe School and what is now the library).

“We were actually at the back of the houses, one of which, as far as I recall, had a set of steps down to a cellar. While we never actually ‘broke in’ to anywhere, we took advantage of loose-fitting doors, broken windows etc.

“We went into one of these houses and in the cellar found some old 8mm or 16mm film reels. On taking the film out into the light we could see it was of a football match but not much more. While we were probably classed as ‘up to no good’, we would never have done anything as bad as breaking into anywhere.

“We were, however, curious teenagers and as it was obvious the house was unoccupied we decided to probe a little further, and with the help of a box of matches for light we ventured upstairs. What we found amazed me.

“It was just like walking into a film set of an old war movie. The windows were all covered over with either paint or thick curtains and the upstairs rooms were full of all kinds of electrical/radio equipment plus there was a massive map of Europe.

“I seem to remember it being on a large table with planes/boats on it – the type that you see in the movies that are pushed around with a stick.

“There was lots and lots of valve-type radio equipment and lots of black bakelite. I have to admit that as well as the pigeons, I was also ‘into’ anything electrical/electronic at the time.

“I helped myself to a Morse code transmitter fitted into a nice polished wooden box complete with Morse code key and black bakelite headphones.

“There was so much equipment there, but as you can imagine we were terrified and got out as soon as we could, taking the ‘long way’ home and avoiding any main roads in case we were spotted carrying this wooden box that would never have qualified for something I ‘just found’.

“The house was obviously some kind of wartime ‘command centre’ and although the transmitter has long since disappeared, that house has intrigued me ever since.

“Unfortunately as the years have passed, my memory has faded a little and I can’t remember exactly which year it was (I’m fairly sure it would have been sometime between 1969 and 1972), or even which house it was, although I know it was somewhere between the rear of the ‘patisserie’ and the couple of cottages at the end of the row opposite the side of The Alexandra pub.

“I would imagine anyone who worked there may not be around anymore but you never know, someone may just know someone who worked there. I really hope one of your readers can shed some light on this.”

So now it’s up to you...