n I WAS never a pupil, but I have to admit to a sentimental attachment to Christopher Whitehead School.

It was certainly "state of the art" on completion of the first half in the late 1930s.

How we at Stanley Road School might have envied that well- equipped gym and, luxury of luxuries, shower facilities.

However, these were not enjoyed by pupils for long but were commandeered by the Air Raid Precautions (later named Civil Defence Service) and converted into a First Aid Post.

The showers were earmarked for decontamination purposes in case the enemy used poison gas. It was, to all intents and purposes, a miniature hospital and did, I believe, on one occasion actually receive casualties.

At 16, armed with my newly-attained first-aid certificate I enrolled here for duty. It was unpaid but hardly voluntary, being preferable to compulsory fire-watching in some forlorn attic.

Every Friday evening at 7.30 prompt, together with others, I reported for a 12-hour stint of duty. Most of the evenings were spent playing darts or table tennis unless, of course, the siren sounded.

Then all this would be cleared away as we prepared for action and awaited reinforcement by doctors and nurses, together with the Tuesday night team who were on stand-by.

Conversely, we were stand-by on Tuesdays and reported for duty whenever the siren sounded, which could be frequently.

On Sunday mornings we attended for training and exercises. They were happy times and excellent preparation for when I joined the Royal Naval Sick Berth Staff on reaching military age.

JOHN HINTON,

Worcester.