BACK

 One incident that happened about the third week, was a bit frightening. A young chap transferred from No. 2 an Inspector, said to me at one o'clock dinner time "I know a short cut through the tunnels to the Cementation Hut." It was a long walk round, so I was only too eager to follow him, through a small door set at the end of a short bay leading off No.3 tunnel, It led to another tunnel, damp unpainted with only a tiny pilot light set in the roof - a bit eirie. We hadn't got more than 50yds when out went those dim lights. Well, that blackness is something I will never forget.

 We were in a spot. "I never carry matches, Alan" and his voice echoed round the bare walls. " I've got no matches, only a lighter that doesn't work very good. He had got it out, I could hear him thumping it. (Bet he was sweating as much as me). Suddenly it took, and what a relief. No time was wasted in getting to the surface. There is no doubt in. my mind that it would have been impossible to have found our way out without a light. All we could have done was to sit tight until the lights came on again. I can shut my eyes now and hear water trickling down from somewhere. I never went that way again. That door was sealed later when the R.A.F. took the section.

 Travelling back and forth meant a14hr day, so it was a relief when we were told the Hostels were ready for occupation, and after a few days for us to make any arrangements about lodgings locally or settling for the Hostels, the coach would be discontinued. The idea of living with a lot of other folk didn't appeal to some. They got fixed up in the neighbouring villages. I could have gone to Aunt Nell's (Mother's elder Sister) about six miles away, but I didn't fancy it, I made excuses that I had got to live at the works.

 There were only three of us that first week at the Hostels. They were the Contractors Hostels cleaned out and redecorated. Those army type wooden huts had centre doorways joined by a passage from end to end with 16 one person rooms approx 7f t x 6ft, a Bathroom, toilets and communial washroom leading off it. Electric lighting and central heating. Rough but reasonably comfortable. I had an end room. Being first on the scene we three could take our pick. Les Wells, Tool Room and stores Charge Hand - We became great friends the two years Les was at Drakelow.- He staked his claim to the one opposite and Teddy Waight, one of our S.J.A.B. chaps took the one next to Les. We were told they would only be temporary as new palacial hostels were being built about 400yds from the factory. We could see them growing every day as we passed by in the coach.

 Mr. Jones, Personnel officer now, joined us for dinner that first night, It was laid out Savoy style, or should I say how I thought Savoy would do it. We knew that that wouldn't last.

 500 miners and hundreds of Irish labourers had lived and worked for years excavating and tunneling, but by now most of them had left.

 What a quiet week that was, we didn't realise how peaceful until the place began to fill up, mainly by the nucleus of skilled operators from the Rover Birmingham factories, The communal block held the dining Room, Dance and Concert Room, Writing Room and Games section. Small, rough,but adequate and serviceable. Each room in the sleeping quarters had a single bed with plywood base to make it more resilient! plus three army type biscuits to make the mattress Bedding was ade quate. A small 1 table and narrow wardrobe completed the furnishing. Just three residents for the canteen and cleaning staff to lavish their attention upon and a barman three teetotalers in residence! He did make us a cup of cocoa. We never asked again though, it was lousy, like pudding.

 Thrown together that first week in a place of such overwhelming solitude, we became good friends and always considered ourselves the oldest inhabitants with all the ego that that brought us. An incident that first week may have helped our friendship. Les Wells, about the same age as me(37) when at home always went a walk before bedtime. In a place where there was a total blackout and unknown ground he should have known better, but what he or none of us knew is that the place was a veritable fortress, with barbed wire, tank traps, obstacles, dogs the lot. Anyway, Ted and me were sitting at a small table when we heard a scratching noise at the door. I got up and opened it. In crawled Les, his face covered in blood. "Good God Les, what's happened?" "Don' t know" he sobbed the words out," fell over some barbed wire, I shouted but nobody heard me so I had to pull myself out" Some days later he showed us where he thought he had become entangled. We realised how easily he could have had a serious accident and lain there until Ted and me had gone in search of him. He was in a mess, Barbs had stuck into the top of his head (he was almost devoid of hair) he had one 3" gash along the eyebrow, plus other minor ones. Punctures in his arms and legs and his clothing was all torn. The big cut needed stitching. Here we were, Hostel staff had left, we could have been in a desert. No transport or hope of medical help before morning. Ted and me, both first alders, had our emergency kits so while Ted went for them I got Les to our table and started to clean him up. We almost washed him in dettol, it must have hurt too but he was too shocked to notice. Something had to be done to close the cut until the morning. We drew it together with adhesive plaster, bandaged him round the head and put him to bed. He bounced back. There he was next morning,"Wakey Wakey, Rise and shine" in a voice that carried to all corners as loud as I ever remember it and we got used to it over the next year or so. He sounded cheerful too.

 When we went to the tunnels to work, there were only a few maintenance men then, he shocked them by appearing all bandaged up. The surgery wasn't manned before 9 o'clock, Les was waiting for them. He told us later that the Sister said we had done a splendid job. Ever afterwards he called us, and introduced us, as his bodyguards.

 Les was a character. Hard working, conciencious and loyal. One thing about him, and I don't think he knew it, he couldn't whisper. You can imagine the embarrassment that this brought to his friends. Such as...., when in one intake of directed labour there was a older woman with short hair and wearing trousers ( a rarity at the time). Les's stage whisper "What is it? You've got to pick 'em up and shake 'em to find out" must have been heard by everyone. He was such a kind hearted chap he couldn't have known.

 The Surgery staff couldn't get to the works before 9am for that first few months. In due course, as the works developed a good transport service was laid on bringing workers from a wide area. In the meantime I was responsible for any emergency or treatment at the Surgery from 7.3Oam to 9am. My department wasn't in full swing so I had the time to spare anyway. By V.E.Day (nearly 3yrs on) four sisters covered the 24 hours day in and day out for seven days a week,
CONTINUED