Africa's Lost Children - Part Four - Cold Years in a Teenage Wasteland
The winter years started when I was five years old. Standing in a large indoor dock with a Navy Cutter in it I was finger printed, hand printed and photographed and measured. After we sipped coffee and an hour or so later my UN Passport was swapped out for a United Kingdom and Colonies Passport. The dark blue cloth caught my eye.
"Why are our passports dark blue instead of light blue?"
"You are a British