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 All of them were snooker fans, which was to my advantage, me being a "Scratch player" and prominent in the competitions. Many times my Department needed tools made or reconditioned quickly to avoid hold ups. Albert would trot down the tunnels, have a chat with the lads and my job would get special attention. Then I would see Bill (Ben to all) Lyons, their Foreman and tell him. His reaction "Bloody Hell", "All the so and so works waiting for tools and half my bloody Tool Room is working for you" and yet never at any time did he stop them. Poor old Ben. After about two years he cracked up. The wastage rate for Foremen was high. I out lasted most of them.

 Over the years I fostered contacts and lines of communication throughout the establishment. Works and Hostels, Billiards, Table Tennis, Cricket at odd times. Officer in charge of St. John's and Leader of Works F.A.Unit, giving lectures at regular intervals, arranging team competitions and working closely with Personnel Dept on both Departmental and labour intake, and the specially difficult ones to place, providing First Aid cover at Social Events run by the Rover club, On the Home Committee at the Hostels and on occasions the confidant of some of my own chaps. One brought his Wife all that way for me to talk to her and try to iron out a matrimonial problem. I wonder if it did any good. The problems of living away from home are obvious, the minor ones and subsistence allowance. Ration Cards only added to them.

 Towards the end of the war some of the men, the older ones mostly, were showing signs of weariness, and to my mind nearing breaking point. Without consulting my superiors, I organised a One week-end in four off. i.e. Friday evening 5.3Opm until Monday morning 7.3Oam. Saturday mornings my department looked a bit thin. Every job was covered and in consequence no objection was raised. One thing I did learn in my industrial career in a large factory, if anything you do on your own initiative goes wrong, you are likely to be on your own and get the chopper. Few took the risk, that is why so few inovations go through. I was lucky. Spite and animosity that exist between staff and departments sickened me at first but gradually one got used to it and made all the moves to avoid being a victim. It is a struggle with conscience not to retaliate in kind. Polishers had a saying 'Blame it on the Polishing Shop' It did so happen. Machinists could do no wrong. Machines being set to limits. Polishers working free hand had enormous scope for error. At the weekly inquest in the Mortuary, thats the place where scrap components ended up, believe me there were only one or two, the principal was, there shouldn't be any. Who, When, Why and how was always discussed. It was never the Machine Shop. Casting Department objected to the rectification cost of putting faults right, much of this was done in my department, the cost being chalked up against us. Just once, justice was served. A regular rectification that we had done for a year was finally traced and eliminated.

 Con Rods, remember? Very heavy Master Rods were getting through to final view overweight. Machine Shop (big heads) said "We're machining them so smooth the Polishers didn't need to take so much metal off on our ops" No doubt they were a few drams up when they left us at the final op before sub-assembly. They were returned to me on an A .F. C. (Additional Factory Cost) for rectification. This was done by taking the excess metal from the shank at the little end. After months of head scratching, heart searching, notes from the Cost Department it was discovered, almost by accident by a new Charge Hand in final view, who had set up a test apparatus that should have been used as a regular check. A balancing test - lo and behold the excess weight was at the other end of the rod, the one that had very little done to it by the Polishers. Bill Trevis, bless him - the new Charge Hand, came rushing round to me. Our Departments were adjoining " It's nothing to do with you its at the other end". Then the fat was in the fire. A 100% check and supervision at every machine operation revealed that two milling operations at the big end had been reduced to one. That was alteration of the lay-out, something that required Planning Department etc etc. permission. Lots of paper work and simply wasn't done. Needless to say, Polishers weren't any more popular, being for once proved inocent.

 Engine-wise first "Mercury and Pegasus" later when sufficient of these were in stock, the "Hercules" came via No. 2. Solihull plus a lot of operators. These were sited in so far unused tunnels and with extra personnel the Hostels were full to capacity. The boozing trips and Gliderdrome do's got even more tempestrious.

 Before I left Drakelow we did the prototype rods for the "Centaurus" Engine. I stayed all one Friday night and personally did the final operations. I have always liked being the first on a job. Tubular furniture and Exhibition work in earlier years. Rotal Air Screw "Centaurus" Rods in wartime. Nice to remember. Never before or since have I worked a longer shift than to get those prototype Centurous rods into final view by the deadline Saturday lOam. 7. 30am Friday to 1pm Saturday - 30 hours without a break except for meals. "Centaurus" were fitted to the Tempest Fighter Bomber, almost the last of the Piston engines Jets were taking over.

  Industrial injuries were few considering the 'rawness' of the Factory personnel. In the early day's when I opened the Surgery 7.3Oam until 9am when the first nurse arrived. One of the trainees trying to sharpen a tool on a grindstone, held it wrong and it flicked back and bodged his hand. My first case. Early on before the Rover Hostels had got going, the Sick-bay Nurse asked my advice (as Chief of Works First Aid Unit) on a suspected appendicitis. It was 8 o'clock at evening. By 10 o'clock when all transport ceased, action had got to be taken. My advice was, play safe - get him to hospital. We did, and it was. One of my trainees was hit in the eye by a Rod pin, l.lb in weight. He nearly lost that eye. A Scotch girl on nights caught her foot on a jagged piece of metal. It severed the achilles tendon. Crippled her for life. She did a Scottish sword dance act at Concerts, such a pity. The Patrolman we took home on a stretcher repeatedly with a suspected stomach ulcer. Red faces. His appendix was removed later - the Ulcer mysteriously disappeared.

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