As the summer of 2003 drew to an end, The Libertines were in disarray.

Initially hailed as the new saviours of rock n’ roll, just a few months earlier they'd been stood on the brink of megastardom – surveying the cultural scene at their feet, like a crack troop of slightly under-nourished soldiers in their resplendent military Scots Guards jackets.

Now they were falling apart at the seams.

Crack troop still wasn't far from the mark though; Pete Doherty's issues with drugs had led to a falling out with co-frontman Carl Barât, and things went from bad to worse to disastrous, when Pete burgled Carl's flat and ended up in jail.

For fans, it was a traumatic falling out between their two beloved idols and a depressing end to a band they'd hoped would conquer the world.

Or was it?

Enter one unassuming autistic lad from Chatham, with his pen and paper and a dream.

Dean Hunter, aka Dean Fragile, was the 22-year-old music manager for the Tap 'n' Tin – and had become friends with Pete after the singer came to a Billy Childish and the Buff Medways gig at the Chatham club.

That led to Dean DJ-ing at some early Libertines shows and having a go at producing some of Pete's solo demos – one named The Sailor Sessions after the Medway Towns.

But now Peter was in jail and the fun had stopped.

"Peter was in prison and we were writing back and forward," recalled Dean. "It was old school pen and paper – I still have the letters.

"At that point the band had fully broken up but we had the idea of doing a gig the day he got out of prison.

“Originally it was going to be named Peter Doherty's Freedom gig, but I arranged for Carl to be there when he came out of prison and for the band to all be ready to play in the evening.

“Peter chose the support bands from prison – Cherubs from Norway via Chatham, The Bandits all the way from Liverpool, and North London The Rabbi."

Dean must have been buzzing with anticipation at the thought of reuniting his favourite band, but as the hour of the potential gig approached, he received a call that almost shattered the dream.

"We are not doing this gig, who do you think you are?"

It was Carl Barât and the line went silent on both ends, until after a long pause Carl added: "Only joking mate, we have just arrived outside.”

And so, what would go down in history as the NME's Gig of the Decade commenced, all thanks to Chatham's Dean Fragile.

Twenty years later, Carl's glad he didn't stay in the car – and sent an exclusive message to KentOnline to recall the legendary gig.

"From what I can remember of Dean Fragile’s 2003 Tap 'n' Tin gig, it was a pivotal moment for The Libertines and our rebirth as a band," he said.

"Pete got out of jail, the cover of our album was taken that night, loads of people got Libertine tattoos and I fell over wasted doing a conga line on Chatham High Street and got stitches on my chin. A great night out."

Bloodied but happy, Carl wasn't the only rock star to get injured that night – and among the casualties of a heavily booze-laden atmosphere was one Bernard Butler from Suede, who got burnt on the arm by a drunken fan and gig reviewer.

"Where I was considerably addled by the end of the night, I accidentally burned his arm with a cigarette," recalled Steve Cole. "He was not happy. Whoops!"

As hungover as he might have been the next day, Steve was still on a high – an emotional one to be precise – as he penned his review for the Medway Messenger.

"Having battled heroin addiction and plumbing the inevitable depths such an affliction brings with it, Pete was found in upbeat mood, eager to prove his doubters wrong and put his career, and his band, firmly back on track,” wrote Steve.

“Originally scheduled to perform a solo acoustic set, the 200-strong crowd packed into the top floor of the pub were treated to witnessing the reunion of The Libertines, right on the tiny stage!

“What followed was nothing short of awe-inspiring. An hour-long set reprised all the great songs that have elevated this band to become one of the biggest and most well-respected acts in the country."

He went on to describe a gig of "barely contained chaos" with fans being able to reach out to touch their heroes and a "mid-song stage invasion” by about 40 of the audience.

"As the set drew to a close with the fantastic Up The Bracket, the mood in the air was jubilant," he added.

"Those fortunate enough to be here were absolutely elated that their favourite band had seemingly emerged triumphant from the black times.

“Speaking to the band after the show, that feeling of elation is shared and it appears that whilst there’s a long way to go, tonight was the first big step in getting the show back on the road.

"The significance of this gig cannot be underestimated. An event of this calibre has put The Tap ‘n’ Tin on the map as a serious venue, and the rise in credibility can only lead to bigger and better things for the Medway towns."

Looking back years later Steve says the gig genuinely felt the start of something new in Medway.

“I think that was both naive and optimistic,” he adds. “But if you can’t be naive and optimistic when you’re in your early 20s, when can you?

“Truth is, in my opinion, that it caused some ripples that quickly faded away as the movers and players behind the Medway scene either grew up or burned out over the subsequent months and years. Other people may have other opinions.

“It was fun, though.”

But what about Dean, the mastermind behind it all? The 22-year-old must have also felt swept up in the enormity of the occasion, watching his heroes while surrounded by big names from the music world.

“I remember watching from behind the stage with Cherubs next to me and it was super emotional for everyone in the room,” he recalled.

“Bernard Butler of Suede was there, alongside the Libertines AR man James Endeacott and Libertines PR man Tony Linken.

“The NME had Anthony Thornton there to write about it and (photographer) Roger Sargent to take what would be the cover of the following day’s NME.”

Just before the gig, Roger also took the now ionic picture of Peter and Carl that would become the cover of their eponymously named second album – an album that would cement their place as one of the biggest and most influential UK band’s of the new century.

Can Dean and Chatham as a whole claim credit for that too? Perhaps that would be going too far, but the gig has gone down in history, and if Carl Barât says it was a pivotal moment then who’s to argue?

“NME called it gig of the decade a few years after,” added Dean. “I’ll take that.

“The Tap ‘n’ Tin became infamous overnight and I was able to book all my favourite bands of the time, because they all knew about the venue.

“I wouldn’t have been able to get The Charlatans to play without this gig for sure.

“It 100% it put Chatham on the map again, “ he added. “It helped a few bands out at the time but the Medway music scene is still the biggest fountain of untapped music around.

“There was and is a wealth of great bands in Medway and they deserve much more press.

“I’m super proud that an undiagnosed, super autistic 22-year-old was able to reunite his friends and his favourite band.

“I knew the importance of what happened as soon as I got home after the gig.

“Nineteen years later the band would move to my new home of Margate where they would ask me to project manage, and then run, their hotel and recording studio The Albion Rooms.

“I had a fantastic four years there and I left on great terms a few years ago, but to this day I still get to work with the band whenever possible.”

As for The Libertines, the road ahead would be as bumpy as Chatham High Street was for Carl – and messrs Doherty and Barât, together with drummer Gary Powell and bassist John Hassall, would pick up plenty more scars both, physical and psychological, in the coming years.

But if the question is What Became of the Likely Lads? – the answer is they all survived and are alive and well in Margate.

You might say they deserve a medal for that – but they already got them from Tap ‘n’ Tin owner John Terry.