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This story was submitted to the People's War site by Jenny Yaxley on behalf of Brian Mitchell and has been added to this site with his permission. Brian fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

As a young boy, I wanted to do my bit to help my country during the war. Unfortunately when you’re only eight there isn’t much you can do, so I decided to help the local milkman on his rounds! Of course, in those days the milkman still used a horse and cart and so I would leave home early to go and harness up the horse ready for its days work. I would then accompany the milkman from 9am until 2pm which is how long it took to complete the rounds.
I remember how the milkman would always stop at the local pub for a quick pint before he completed his round, leaving me outside to look after the horse. However, on one occasion the horse decided to sit down in the middle of the road and I was unable to move him. No matter how much I shouted and slapped the horse to try and get him up he would not move. I had to resort to getting the milkman out of the pub to try and help. The milkman came out, asked the horse to move, gave it a quick slap on the rear and the horse got up without a fuss!
I enjoyed my time on the milk rounds and would then go back to the farm and do odd jobs that needed doing there. We also had an evacuee from Ashford in Kent come to live with us. His name was Peter Chambers but he was known to all as ‘Chubby.’ He and I would run indoors when we heard the air-raid sirens and then watch the plains flying past to Coventry out of the window. Our pantry at home was converted into an air-raid shelter where Chubby and I could hide out together!

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