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This story was submitted to the People's War site by Lin Freeman of Radio Derby CSV on behalf of Mr Raymond John Whitehurst and has been added to the site with his permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

A Young Lad's Memories of the War (1939-45)
Being a young lad during the war, I was five years old when it started and my recollections are somewhat limited and relate to it through the eyes of a child.
I was the youngest of 10 siblings; six of them were between the ages of 21 down to 14, and the other four, including me, aged from 12 down to 5.
My first recollection of the war was, in 1939, being taken with the latter group to Reginald St., School to be evacuated. Bert, the eldest at 12 was evacuated to Borrowash, whilst Jean (10), Reg (8) and I were sent to Draycott. We said our farewells to our parents, then along with hundreds of other children were despatched by bus to our destination. Arriving at Draycott, Jean and I were billeted in one house whilst Reg was placed next door. I did not stay there very long as I was brought home, by my Mam, after about three months. I just could not settle there. I suppose I was a bit too young. I still have memories of attending Draycott School and of playing in the fields and down by the river. I suppose at that age home and Derby did seem a long way away. My other siblings stayed on for about another six months before they came back home.
Being now at home I was then introduced to the regular procedure of having to get out of a warm bed, in the middle of the night, and to go down to the shelter when an air raid siren sounded over Derby. Living in a large house on Osmaston Rd, at the junction with Grove St. our shelter was in the house basement. This was very dark and damp, but at least we didn't have to go outside like the folks who had garden shelters.
Memories in the basement shelter are of the night they bombed Coventry as we were also up all night due to a raid on Derby. My father, who was a Fire Warden, told my mother that you could see the glow over Coventry in the distant southern sky
I also remember the night that they dropped a stick of bombs across from Reginald St., High St., Oxford St., Regent St., Litchurch St and London Rd. I can still hear the drone of the German planes and the scream of the bombs as they hurtled down then followed by the explosions. One explosion shook our house and I saw a crack in the brickwork shoot from the basement up into the upper rooms. Over the years the crack widened and it eventually condemned the house. Next morning, along with my brothers and sisters, we went to view the damage to the houses in Litchurch St.
Being young, this picture stands out in my mind as I had never seen the like before. To see houses wrecked and with people looking through the mess for survivors was awesome, but fortunately I was too young to understand the situation. We were soon told to leave the scene and go home. I later heard my mother tell my father that an old lady had been killed in the raid. The lady lived in Litchurch St. and she had been talking to Mam the previous evening. I was with my Mam when she had spoken to the old lady.
Being young, the only plus from the raid, was that the bomb dropped in Reginald St. had damaged the school, so that meant no school for a while.
Another memory of an air raid is of being late for school as an air raid started just before we left the house to go to schoo1 in the morning.
Most mornings we would look out for, and collect shrapnel (Bomb or Shell Metal Fragments) whilst walking to schoo1. All children did this and would show off their trophies in the classroom. Unfortunately some children picked up live ammunition, which could and did have serious consequences.
My only contact with the enemy was when I saw a German plane flying low over our house on the morning that they bombed Rolls Royce. Whether it was the actual plane, I shall never know.
We were getting ready to go to school and my brother Reg and I were outside in the back garden. -We heard the usual sound of an aircraft approaching and looked up to see it coming from the south, heading towards the town centre. It was distinctly grey in colour and had the German crosses on the wings and fuselage. My father must have heard it from inside the house, as he quickly came outside and dragged both of us back indoors.
One of the compensations of the war, in the eyes of a child, was the building of a Static Water reservoir on the Arboretum. This meant that the earth that was removed was heaped, along side the reservoir, on the playing field. This formed numerous hillocks and was ideal for playing on. Such games were war games, pretending to be Commandos attacking the Germans or Japanese. Sometimes we would play Cowboys and Indians. The hillocks were ideal in winter when the snow was on the ground, for sledging and sliding,
A problem of war is the rationing of food and the niceties of life like sweets and chocolate. This meant that as a young lad you never had enough of anything to give you a full stomach. Most of the children were lean and skinny and the only delicacy, after your basic meals, was to eat raw carrots, turnips and apples. Sweets were few and far between as you were only allowed one and a half pound per month that is if you could obtain them. The luxuries for children were cough drops and sweet root chews. Most children had to have a daily spoonful of Malt to supplement their intake. That wasn't too bad but sometimes you were also put on a dose of Parishes Food, and that tasted really bitter. Still we survived!
When the Americans came over to Britain the children soon found out that they were a source for obtaining sweets and the like; so it was natural to wait outside the Y.M.C.A. in Midland Rd, hoping that some generous Yank or any other Service personnel would toss you sweets and cigarettes, as they came in or out of the building. In those days children didn't seem as vulnerable as they are nowadays. Were we more street wise? I do not know. However of the pickings, the sweets and chocolate ended up in the mouth, the cigarettes were taken home to Dad and the Cigarette Packets were saved or duplicates were swapped, with your mates, the next day.
When I was about nine, I was waiting outside the Railway Station with my brothers and several other children. We were waiting for the soldiers to come out when a Railway Policeman grabbed me by the scuff of the neck and took me into his office. He asked me my name and address and told me I could be in serious trouble. He asked me to empty my pockets, from which I produced One shilling and eight pence (about 9p), some sweets and three cigarette packets containing some cigarettes He then confiscated them and told me to go. I ran out terrified to find my brothers. My little enterprise was now finished for ever. I never did hear anything more about the incident and I still wonder what happened to the money, sweets and cigarettes?!!!!!!
Towards the end of war, and with coal still short and on ration, it became a regular custom for most families, to go to the Coke Yard to obtain a bag of coke to supplement their fuel. This was done on a Saturday morning, and you would see hundreds of children with trolleys, barrows and bikes converging to either Deadman's Lane or Ford St. Gas Works We always went to Deadman's Lane. There you would wait in a long queue for ages till your bags were loaded up and you paid your bill. Sometimes you waited and waited only to find out that they had sold out of all they had produced. My memory of waiting in the queue was of a man who walked with a stiff leg and he used to rant and rave, in a grumpy voice, at all the children in order to keep some kind of control.
Funnily in those days there was always a man with a stiff leg, who ranted and raved trying to control children no matter what queue you were in!
As the war drew to an end we began to notice that life was a little easier. Children's Parties were held on the parks. We always attended the parties on the Arboretum. We had never seen the likes of this before, and it was marvellous to attend. People and children were being live entertained by musicians and conjurers. This was also something you had never seen before.
The most striking thing was to see were shop windows lit up at night. Neon lights, which had stood dormant outside pubs and shops, were suddenly bursting into life. They glowed in colour in the night light. The significant ones I remember were the "Offilers Ales" sign above the Neptune Inn, and the bright windows of Ratcliffe's Toy Shop. Both buildings being on the Spot. The dark nights seemed to now become more cheerful. We had only seen them dull before. In the early days of the war you only saw smoke and smelt burning oil fumes from the smoke screens. This new scene was wonderful.
Looking back I believe I was at the right age not to really understand the wickedness of War. It was as a teenager that I began to realise what it was all about and how my parents must have worried in early days, particularly as we were a large family. I never fully understood how my uncle must have felt when he was captured at Singapore, by the Japanese, and forced to work on the Burma railway till his release four years later. That experience followed his evacuation from Dunkirk. He like the many others had to take it their stride. I probably never will understand what it was all about. Yes I was lucky to only have a child's experience of War, and I hope the children of the future will be luckier than me.

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