John Scott recalls wartime raid on York

He was a lad of 14 at the time of the raid 80 years ago. And what he remembers most clearly is that when he went to school the next morning, the school wasn't there.

"There was just a pile of bricks!" he said.

Manor School, which in those days was based at Marygate,was one of several that had been hit by bombs.

There was a noticeboard up outside. On it, someone had written: "Go back home and wait for a message. You will be told when to return."

John, 94, who grew up to become the York-based chief reporter of The Press' great rival the Yorkshire Post, has spoken about his memories of wartime York before.

He was interviewed in 2008 by York oral historian Van Wilson for her book Rations, Raids And Romance. And later that same year he wrote his own wartime memoir, Does He Speak Welsh?

Many people in York were caught out by the Baedeker Raid, he says. They had got used to hearing the sound of bombers droning overhead on their way to bomb Liverpool docks. But that night, York was the target.

John Scott

In his memoir he described hearing his father's voice saying “What the bloody hell was that?”, and his mother’s cross response: “It was a bomb. What did you think it was? Get John, now.”

The family, who lived in South Bank, tried to make a break for the air raid shelter in the garden, but the bombs were falling thick and fast. Instead they sheltered in the alcove by the chimney breast as the world shuddered and shook.

In the aftermath of the bombings he recalls standing at the top of Scarcroft Hill and seeing York burning.“I remember walking through the streets and seeing houses just spilled out onto the street, and people digging in the rubble,” he told the Press.

The 80th anniversary of the raid has brought all that back. But John, who now lives in Strensall, was also prompted to contact us because of a recent series of photographs we published showing the old Press offices in Coney Street.

John joined The Press as a copy boy/ trainee reporter at 16. His job was to carry completed copy down several flights of stairs from the sub-editors' floor to the linotype printing machines in the basement. To speed things up, he became a dab hand at sliding down the bannisters.

He was still working on The Press on D-Day, and remembers the special edition brought out that day, complete with front page map. The news editor told him: "Well John, it has started!"

He was so excited he got carried away sliding down the bannisters to deliver copy - and crashed straight into the editor, Mr Cobham.

"I thought I was going to get sacked!" John said. "But I heard him saying to someone afterwards, 'that lad is very keen!'"