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Gallery 17 - Polishing Shop. Looking South from Tunnel 2.

 My chaps nicknamed one 'Ivor Clue' after a comic strip in one of the weeklies. This particular one raised the "IRE" of the Gamblers. He was trying to trace the factory bookie and the touts who collected the bets.

 You can judge the extent of the business - a year or so after the war when on a camping holiday at Ross on Wye, I met a chap who lived there and was directed to Drakelow. He worked in the spring section as a labourer and was one of the touts. He told me - and his eyes glistened at the memory of it - "I got more money a week in commission on the bets that I did in wages". Anyway, this 'Ivor Clue' made himself a nuisance. How it happened, whether he was framed or not, a betting slip was found in his possession. He got the sack. Rover were ruthless in punishing folk.

 Mr.Bowden, Works Production Chief was ploughed to the limit for using works petrol, strictly rationed both private and industrial. Out he went. He came to say good-bye to me - he was shattered - under war conditions he had committed a serious offence. The Court wouldn't listen to any plea, even for mitigation because of losing a son at sea in a convoy of merchant ships. Another chap from the Office staff did a bit of embezzeling. He went to prison.

 One of my chaps was a rogue. Claimed subsistance allowance for living away from home and supplementary petrol for travelling to Drakelow. Both at the same time. It took nearly a year to catch up on him. He was fined - they couldn't send him to Prison, although a known villain - he was a Production Worker, None of the others fell into that category. Even the Law comes second place to National Security.

 Now to external security and the one break-in (or should it be break-out) maybe both. Heat Treatment and Shotblasting came under the same Foreman, until I took over permanently the Shotblasting. Heat Treatment is a 24hr day 7 days a week process. The blokes on the job couldn't have had much social life. The first Foreman was from No.1. I never met him before that first coach load of Foremen. In that quiet period before the components started to get through, we would walk around the Tunnels to have a chat with each other, just to fill in the day. We got to know each other, which was all to the good. This chap "Mee" never seemed to have much to say about the job. We realised why later.

 Cam Sleeves were the first job on the line. Right from the start the Works Manager, a No.1. man, the first of the four we had over the 3years, let it be known that Foremen were to handle the first batch through his department. His words "There's not going to be any passengers on my Supervisory Staff" I don' t think that is altogether fair. One cannot but say, it is easier to control a department when you are conversant with the trade components. But for Mr. Mee, the ruling was disasterous. He scrapped the lot. The Foreman from No.1 "Big George Lloyd" was called in. He demoted Mee to the dirtiest job in the shop. In a week or so he left. It was a cruel act to discredit the chap in this manner. The Factory floor is a hard tough school. It was wicked to put a Man Foreman who was so ignorant of the job. How could it happen? Old school tie, boozing pals? One thing is for sure, it is easier to be in charge of a department in full production than to start from scratch.

 The new charge-hand came from No.1 and held a similar post there under George Lloyd. He was in charge of Heat Treatment at the time of the break-ins and out. One of his men was an ex-miner and like all the department worked l2hr shifts. The Works Superintendant on day-shift was in a pub one evening in a small town a few miles away, when he noticed this Welsh chap who unfortunately for him was striking in appearance. He was big, broad, powerful with a strong Welsh accent. "Funny, I thought he was on nights." That intrigued him. He checked up on it, The ex-miner had checked in and out on the night in question. Someone was clocking him in and out. Nothing more than that was suspected. The whole Heat Treatment section were under suspicion, questioned individually and it all came out.

 This Welsh ex-miner had extensive knowledge of how an underground ventilation system worked. The Shot Blast Unit was in a small bay cut off from the rest of the department. The Air Duct there being about 6ft in diameter he had climbed in and made his way to the surface via the air vents, set just above ground level at the top of the hill. How he got out of the wire enclosed crown lands was never disclosed.

 Patrols with dogs to evade, not to mention the white powdery cyanide deposits from the cyanide hardening prccess that spread all around the vents. It could have killed him. The fact that none of it was on his clothes showed he must have worn overalls, and that much time and thought went into it long before the actual break-out. It had gone on for weeks, his mates covering for him. Incredible. To break out in such a manner, walk miles to the pub and back again after closing time, re-enter the enclosure, climb down the shaft and back to the Tunnels undetected. Those huge concrete outside vents only had slits in them. He must have spent weeks making it possible to get in and out of that. I have read many escape stories of British P.O.W. breaking out of top security German camps. They seem unbelievable. I reckon this Welsh ex-miner's escapade comes up to their standard. We never heard what happened to him. He was seen no more. That was the only time to my knowledge that security was broken.

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