I OFTEN wonder what would have happened if Guy Fawkes had hatched his gunpowder plot in mid June rather than on a dark November night.

Would we still have commemorated this seminal moment in British history with bonfires and fireworks? Or would Fawkes’ attempts to blow up Parliament be commemorated with a more fitting seasonal activity. Say, a summer barbecue.

A burnt sausage may do little favours for the waistline, but at least it couldn’t be regarded as an incendiary device – even in the hands of the most hapless husband.

But the point is a serious one. As the clock goes back and daylight is in short supply, the gateway to winter is hallmarked, as always, with the sounds of bangers and rockets exploding into the night sky.

And with them come the inevitable stories about the horrific injuries fireworks can cause.

Only recently, the MEN carried the awful story of 11- year-old Prestwich schoolboy Callum Wightman who was playing near his home when some thugs deliberately launched a rocket which exploded in his face.

How could any parent not shiver with horror at the thought of an innocent child being maimed for life, simply because he had the temerity to play with his pals within the orbit of mindless rocket-toting yobs.

Do your children play outside? Do they walk to and from school? Why should they have to plough through these pyrotechnic landmines to do so? It continues to astonish me why the sale of fireworks hasn’t been banned in this country. In the wrong hands – from bored hoodies with a thirst for mischief to religious extremists throwing them through the letter box of an anti-cause target – they are lethal weapons. Yet no government has yet had the stomach to set the legislation in motion.

I’m not a killjoy and realise the pleasure they can bring at organised displays, or even in back gardens where careful adults put on a magical treat for children. And I appreciate it seems unfair that the responsible should suffer because of the actions of the irresponsible. But in this case the price is simply too high.

Year after year, we hear about terrible bonfire night injuries.

It seems ludicrous that you cannot take a can of cola through airport security because of its potential risk to passenger safety. Yet any 18 year old – or younger if the shop assistant is dozy enough – can get their hands on such dangerous devices.

How can we, as a civilised society, allow the continued sale of explosives, without any thought of the dangers they pose to innocent individuals who have the misfortune to stray into their path.

How often do we read of whole communities who are rocked by anti-social behaviour and marauding yobs. So why do we literally light the fuse of the ASBO culture by allowing fireworks to be available over the counter?

Until they are banned, I’ll take the opportunity to wish you all a safe bonfire night. And safe day and night before and after until the last rotten firework has been taken off the shelves.