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This story was submitted by Alison Tebbutt, Derby CSV Action Desk, on behalf of Doris Collard. The author has given her permission, and fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

‘The day war broke out…’ was how comedian Rob Wilton started his programme on the ´óÏó´«Ã½ Radio Station’s Light Programme. He jokingly declared that he and a few of his mates would soon sort Hitler out!

But on this day in September, 1939 when no-one had any idea what to expect, the sirens sounded and my Dad and I (my mother had died two years earlier) had to get up to go to the air raid shelter which we shared with our neighbours Mrs Stroud and her son, Cyril. It was a moonlit night and I had my hair in curlers-flat shiny silver ones-which I was certain the German pilots would see shining in the bright light of the moon. I had just started work at F.W. Hampshire & Co., Sinfin Lane (now Reckitt Toiletry Products,) as a Works Office Junior at the age of fourteen. The firm manufactured Snowfire ointment, Zubes (cough sweets) ice cream powder, wafers and cornets; Jubes (fruit sweets covered in sugar). Later it made ointment (for burns) and sweetening tablets.

Two years later, the woman supervisor in my department was moved to Rolls-Royce factory to do war work.

When the bombing started in 1941, I was made responsible for organising fire-watching teams. These consisted of four women and two men each night. It was fairly easy to get female volunteers-they were pleased to help out the war effort-most men had been called up for war service anyway. We were paid one shilling and sixpence (now 7 1/2p) for the night. The volunteers were drilled in the use of the stirrup pumps which were metal gadgets with a hose attached which were placed in a bucket of water and pumped by hand to produce a stream of water to put out the fires. We slept on stretchers supported on wooden blocks. The Directors also volunteered but the slept in the ambulance room, which had a bed in it.

One of the buildings opposite Hampshire’s in Sinfin Lane was International Combustion-now mostly Rolls-Royce Ltd. It was used as a co-ordinating Headquarters as it had a basement and we had to report to them that our two stirrup teams were ready for action. As the youngest person in the team, I had to go across the road with the message pinned to the left side of my body (in case I got killed along the way!) It was quite frightening in the pitch darkness when shrapnel from the Anti-Aircraft guns on Normanton Park was raining down from the sky. In the morning, we cooked bacon and had fried bread for breakfast. Then it was back to work to start our normal daytime duties, feeling somewhat jaded if there had been an air raid during the night.

As the war progressed the Managing Director decided to allow dances to be held in the canteen to which local servicemen were invited- these included American soldiers who had come over for the D-Day invasion. I was on the dance committee and had the job of booking a band-Sid Arkell and his band played for us for £16 per night and the local girls whose boyfriends were away on war service came along and enjoyed pleasant evenings of social contact. On the way home from the dances when we were passing the barracks (now dismantled) on Sinfin Lane corner, the soldiers would throw snowballs at us on snowy nights.

Meantime I was learning shorthand and typing at Peartree School in Portland Street on the free evenings. The journey home was often a nightmare because the smoke screen stoves were belching out thick grey/black smoke obscuring the pavements. On dark nights, I became disorientated and had difficulty in finding my way home. In addition, the smoke got into my lungs making me choke and cough-a nasty experience.

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