After seeing a couple of episodes of this i tried to scuff out the back door, having nicked my fathers soft air rifle, and a packed a bag with necessities; all in haste. It was summertime, and he caught me... I dropped the rifle in the deep grass or something, in order to hide it...cant remember.What I do remember is that i really broke some sweat trying to cover up my wild fantasies; to not have em destroyed by some grown ups devastating, overseeing smile or explanation. I must have been around 10.
That is what this series did to me and not just me but a lot of same aged boys that i hang around with at the time. I really can say that it asserted the beginning of some kind of wild independence and dream, that i think that I've since then have nurtured inside. And I learned...we all did, my friends and I, about nature, about emancipation and empathy and stuff that we really couldn't spell or even pronounce then. It completely fit our lives as a childhood version of a voluntary Robinson Crusoe or even Robin Hood, if you take away the robbery from the last. About the only other tale that have given rise to those excited youngster feelings in me, although in later years and then in retrospect, is John Boormans "Hope and Glory".
The story starts like this: three brothers are sent away to a dull existence on a summer vacation, during the 1920s. Being fed up they take their voluntary refuge to a large wooded area, where they manage to start a new life; atoned to nature.
The vote is for my memories of the series. Pictures still linger in my brain.
