WE go back to the days of the Second World War for this extract from the memoirs of Dalton author and local historian Jim Walton.

Mr Walton, now 87, of Nelson Street, Dalton, looks back on holidays, plane spotting and hunting for militaria left behind by careless soldiers.

He writes: “I still remember my mother weeping as we all heard our Prime Minister, Neville Chamberlain, declaring on the radio on the morning of Sunday, September 3 in 1939, that Britain was at war with Germany and my father, trying to placate her by saying that he would not be called up as he was now too old.

“But before this, he and my mother had rented a shed on wheels, one of several, in a field near North Scale on Walney Island.

“This was to be our holiday home, a good bike or bus ride from our home in Dalton.

“Living here, right next to the Irish Sea, which was lapping on the beach twice a day, I learned how to swim.

“By this time the war had started and I recall one occasion when I was walking from the beach towards the sea that I saw a Hawker Hurricane flying southwards, just a few feet above the sea.

“The pilot saw me and gave me a friendly wave as he zoomed past. Not bad for a young lad!

“I also recall hearing the bangs and seeing flashes from the guns at Fort Walney as they fired at a target being towed by a plane way our to sea. I don’t think they ever hit it.

“As the war dragged on, Dalton became like an army camp, with incoming troops being stationed at Anty Cross, Long Lane and other places.

“There was rationing, a black-our, plenty of army traffic on our streets and lots of flying overheard.

“The pubs did a roaring trade too with the soldiers around.

“If I remember correctly they all closed at 10pm – or at least they were supposed to.

“On Saturday mornings – but it my have been Sundays – a Scottish regimental band, obviously stationed in Dalton and almost certainly the Cameronians, complete with drums and bagpipes, gave a display of countermarching on Tudor Square.

“This always attracted a good audience.

“This must have been in the days before a brick and concrete air-raid shelter was built on the square – not pleasing to the eye I must admit.”

His father Tom worked at Dalton Labour Exchange.

Mr Walton writes: “Like almost every member of staff, he had to take his turn at fire-watching at the Barrow office.

“This involved a bicycle ride from Dalton to the Barrow office, spending the night there and watching out for incendiary bombs.

“Sometimes he took me with him – and I didn’t find any German bombs either.

“There was also Spitfire Week – money raising events, concerts on Sundays nights at our local cinemas, an open day at the field adjoining Ruskinville House where various events took place.

“I recall being there and watching a machine gun, together with its crew, firing live ammunition over the railway line and footpath with the tracer bullets showing exactly where they were going into the Haggs.

“There were aircraft crashes as well – a Blackburn Botha on the top of the Haggs and a Hawker Hurricane at Standing Tarn.

“I have to say that we lads could recognise any aircraft – the make, model number, its armament and top speed.

“I recall one sports day, playing in a rugby match on the Ulverston Victoria Grammar School ground at Mountbarrow.

“I remember hearing the air-raid siren at Ulverston, followed by the sound of an aircraft approaching from somewhere distant.

“At this point the teacher told us to all forget the game and take cover under the nearby hedges to avoid being machine-gunned.

“He could tell from the sound of the engines that it was German. We did not get shot at.

“I also remember how a group of us lads would get on our bikes and ride to Kirkby Moor, or the defunct mine workings around Dalton, after school and look for what had been left behind by army training exercises in the way of ammunition, shells and bombs.”