An edited version of this article first appeared in the 24-30 May 2017 issue of the Cambridge Independent.

Andrew Bennett’s definitive history of Cambridge United, Risen from the Dust (available from the CFU store) picks up where the first volume, Newmarket Road Roughs, left off in 1951, and ends with United being elected to the Football League in 1970.

It’s memory-stirring stuff for us old codgers for many reasons, but perhaps the most evocative passages are those that cover the old U’s-City rivalry.

Younger readers will probably struggle with this: back then, the battle for football supremacy in Cambridge meant just as much to supporters as those in Liverpool or Manchester. We lived in a divided city.

Eagerly awaited derbies drew massive crowds, and as a fan you were either a U or a Lilywhite. But there have always been players who were happy to be either.

It started in 1921, when Abbey United loaned top scorer Wally Wilson to Cambridge Town for a big FA Cup tie against Kettering. As United began to rise up the Cambs League, their players started to attract regular attention from the bigger, wealthier Town.

During the 1920s, Bert Langford, Bill ‘Pim’ Stearn, Tom Caldecote, Frank Luff, Cyril Morley, ‘Erstie’ Clements and Harold ‘Darley’ Watson were all tempted to cross the river; at a time of rising unemployment, Town could offer the players off-pitch jobs.

In 1936, striker Harry Mann scored hat-tricks in his first two games for United, whereupon Town snapped him up. The exodus continued before and after World War II as Reg Kimberley, Joe Richardson and Den Smith moved north of the Cam but, once the U’s turned semi-pro in 1947, the flow slowed to a trickle.

Former Town players Tony Gallego, Len Hartley, Fred Mansfield and Stan Thurston all signed for United, although not directly from Milton Road. A turning point came in 1950 when Town’s top scorer, Neville Haylock, defected to the U’s, and Bill O’Donnell, Ted Culver and Len Linturn also later crossed to Newmarket Road, the latter causing a minor sensation in turning pro.

Will Norris’s penalty-saving feats earlier in the season inspired some of us old toots to indulge in a delightful memory-fest, recalling great U’s keepers of old. There have been so many, from the Galician virtuosity of Tony Gallego and the Gallic cool of Lionel Perez to the Huntingdonshire brilliance of Rodney Slack.

One custodian’s star shone all too briefly at the Abbey, but its radiance will never be forgotten. Immensely brave and dazzlingly athletic, Trevor Roberts enthralled thousands of admirers during the club’s first two seasons in the Football League, and many a tear was shed when he died at the absurdly young age of 30.

The Caernarfon-born Welsh amateur international came up through the youth ranks at Liverpool while studying for a geography degree: his other great love was teaching. After 171 League games for Southend, Bill Leivers signed him on a free in 1970, and he played in our first ever League game: a 1-1 home draw with Lincoln. Keeping his hand in as a teacher, he worked at a local school in the afternoons.

But he began to feel unwell, and after nine matches a medical uncovered a lung problem: cancer. Trevor underwent two operations but, amazingly, returned to training the day after being discharged from hospital. Insisting on no special treatment, he displayed an uncomplaining stoicism that astonished his teammates.

Trevor returned to action in January 1971, made his League comeback on April 3 at Oldham and, having played in seven of United’s last eight matches, began 1971/72 as first choice keeper. But at Southport in August Eric Redrobe’s robust attentions left him with stud marks along a thigh. Then his nose was broken when he raced out of his box to head clear from a Gillingham forward, who smashed him with a fist. In November, after United had snatched a 1-0 win at Workington, he was attacked by a bunch of yobs as he left the pitch. His reintroduction to football after quelling cancer was proving anything but an easy ride.

Trevor played his last game for United, a goalless home draw with Southport, on 8 January 1972. He had begun to feel unwell again and in February, the night before a short break in Portugal, he collapsed. Another operation confirmed that the lung cancer was back, and this time it was in a more aggressive form.

Trevor convalesced on the Norfolk coast, but the cancer spread to his brain and he became paralysed down his left side. Astoundingly, Leivers awarded him a new contract; it’s unlikely either party thought he could fulfil it. Sure enough, in April a specialist advised him to quit.

The last match of the season, probably the Abbey’s most emotionally charged ever, came when a combined United/Southend side played West Ham in a benefit. More than 6,000 spectators paid tribute.

This article appeared in the Cambridge United programme for the match against Plymouth Argyle on Saturday, 4 February 2017.

Refugees, and a certain president’s unlawful measures to prevent some finding sanctuary in his country, are in the news. Let’s examine, then, the welcome extended 80 years ago to terrified people fleeing deadly warplanes.

When peace returned, some refugees from that 1930s outrage went home. Others stayed in their adoptive countries and made priceless contributions to their new communities. Perhaps nowhere in Britain benefited more than Cambridge from their presence. It’s safe to say our football club gained as much as any other from their contribution.

The bombs that forced our refugees to leave their homes did not fall from Russian or Syrian aircraft. The warplanes were those of Hitler’s Condor Legion, formed by members of the Luftwaffe, and they flew in support of the fascist Francisco Franco’s Nationalists during the Spanish Civil War. The carpet-bombing of civilians in the Basque town of Guernica on 26 April 1937 was the Legion’s most infamous act.

One of its victims was a Republican fighter by the name of Gallego. Two of his sons, José and Antonio, and three other siblings escaped Franco’s lethal attentions when their mother placed them in a Bilbao orphanage. Soon the Gallego children, with nearly 4,000 other youthful refugees, were on their way to Britain, despite prime minister Stanley Baldwin’s ludicrous claim that the climate wouldn’t suit them.

The children were welcomed in various ‘colonies’ throughout the country, and the Gallegos spent time at the two in our area – at Pampisford rectory and in Station Road, Cambridge. The kids didn’t see their mother again for ten years, but they settled well thanks to the warm-hearted people they met, and to football.
‘Football meant everything to us; it was the only thing we knew about,’ Antonio told the Spanish paper El Pais in 2012. ‘We got attached to Cambridge and made a lot of friends here through playing football.’

Goalkeeper Antonio (quickly dubbed Tony) and winger José (Joe) signed for Cambridge Town as teenagers. Tony switched to Abbey United in 1943 before rejoining Joe at Milton Road the following year. Then he entered the professional ranks with Norwich City, where he played with former Town teammate Fred Mansfield. His spell at Carrow Road was brief, and he returned to Cambridge to become United’s first-choice keeper at the start of the 1947/48 season, as the club moved boldly into the semi-professional United Counties League.

Joe left Town for Brentford in 1947, signed for Southampton the following year and featured in Colchester’s first Football League season, but returned to play for the newly renamed Cambridge United when they joined the Eastern Counties League in 1951/52.

Tony remained first choice that season but in 1955 signed for Biggleswade; Joe stayed at the U's for another season before being united with his brother again. The Gallegos stayed in Cambridge for the rest of their lives, Joe dying in 2006 aged 82 and 90-year-old Tony passing away two years ago. I’ve Got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts rang out loud and proud at the funeral.

The Gallegos are legends at United, as are Emilio Aldecoa at Coventry and Wolves and other fugitive children who made a mark in British football. We have cause to thank the Cambridge people who said ‘refugees welcome’ in 1937.