Last week a memorial was unveiled by the Countess of Wessex to commemorate the part played in the second world war by the Bevin Boys.

The Bevin Boys were conscripts and volunteers, who signed up believing theyd be in the armed forces but who instead were sent to work in the mines. The scheme was devised by the Minister of Labour and National Service, Ernest Bevin, in 1943 to keep the pits open and supplying the much-needed coal that powered the factories producing the armaments the forces needed. One in ten conscripts, chosen by ballot, was sent to work in the mining industry, and they became known as the Bevin Boys.

These men nearly 48,000 of them - serving their country were to suffer abuse from the public because they didnt wear uniform and were assumed to be conscientious objectors, deserters or even spies. But it wasnt just ignorance on the part of the general public that caused these men anguish: it was the total lack of recognition that they had played any part in helping Britain win the war. On demob they didnt receive the usual demob suit, no service medals and, probably most importantly, they had no automatic right to their pre-war job back. In fact, it wasnt until 1995 that they were officially allowed to take part in the annual Remembrance Day parade in Whitehall, and it took a further 13 years before the surviving Bevin Boys were given an official badge by the government as a form of campaign medal.

I've been to confession.

'Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned: I doubted.'

I thought we could beat England; I didn't think we'd manage it by 7 points. It turned out to be 27.

It was awesome, a masterclass. Each and every player gave his absolute best. On a day like that we could have beaten the All Blacks.

Now apparently the English coaches are griping aboutthereferee. It's a shame as it does discredit to the English team. They're young and full of potential and will be ready by the world cup to provide a serious threat. That they were overcome by the sheer power, skill and experience of Wales and the full might of Welsh fans in fine voice wasn't surprising.

But for now let's forget the other team; let's focus on the wonder that was our boys. To each and every one a huge thank you for the boost you've given this little nation of ours.

Diolch yn fawr!

Last nightIdreamed I was at Harry Secombe's funeral. The next minute I was cheering on the England rugby team. That was the momentIknewit was definitely a dream.

You'd hardly know that there'd been a recent Wales rugby tour if you only read my blog .

The trouble is that the games (in Australia) haven't been live on television, at least not live as it happens. They're done live but 12 hours later and it's incredibly difficult to pass 12 hours without hearing the score. It becomes almost an obsession to not listen to the radio, not look at newspapers and, hardest of all, not go on Facebook.

The fact thatWaleslost all three test matches has nothing to do with my lack of blogging about it. (Okay, if they'd beaten Australia on Australian soil,Imight just have mentioned it. Once or twice.) As it was, Wales missed the best opportunities they've had in years to beatAustralia, apparently it seems, mainly through indiscipline. Thesecondgame was lost on the last kick of the 80 minutes and the final game lost in the last 5.

In all it's been a disappointing summer of rugby tours for the home nations. The best England could do was one draw with South Africa but nevertheless they've moved up the Rugby Nations Top Ten to 4th place whileWales, the current holders of the Six Nations championship title, has moved down to 6th.

Deprived thus of the opportunity to watch beefy men charging about the pitchIwas obliged to sit through the football of the England versus Italy quarter final onSundayevening.

It's been a long time since I watched a football match and most of the ones I have seen involved my sons as players while in junior school - and, frankly, they were more entertaining than Sunday's offering - if only because they involved shouting loudly and incessantly and occasionally stopping passing dogs poo-ing on the pitch.

I had forgotten just how boring football is. There's none of the action and interaction of rugby: in that even when no-one's close to scoring it can still be exciting. Sunday's game was just yawn-inducing. And this was during the Euro championships so presumably the best players the countries have to offer.

And they weren't even good-looking.

But it's partly due to the rain that we have such a beautiful country.

Rain. That's what's up in South Wales today. Or maybe I should say that's what's down.

We get a lot of rain in Wales but even for us this June has been bad. In the past June or even May has been 'summer' but this year we're stillwaitingfor that big yellow ball to appear in the sky for longer than one day.

But we're Welsh so we carry on. The jokes - the same as always - continue to flood our conversations and we smile stoically as we paddle across the grass. And we talk longingly and lovingly of the summer of 76. 'Duw, it was hotback then, bach.'