WHEN Harry Parkes was called up for the war, he wanted to join the Royal Navy – but he could not swim.

Then he tried for the RAF – but they ruled that out because he had never been an air cadet.

The 18-year-old cinema projectionist, from Radford, resigned himself to being a soldier and waited for a posting.

So when the official letter arrived, young Harry was puzzled. Why was he being sent to Creswell Colliery?" said the sprightly 83-year-old, who now lives in Wilford.

"I had never heard of Creswell, I didn't know what a colliery was."

On March 3, 1945, Harry was conscripted to be a Bevin Boy, one of the army of young men sent to the mines to help fuel the war effort.

"We were conscripted just like any other servicemen and went where we were told," he said. "We didn't fight at the front, but, without us, the war would have been lost.

"Everything was powered by coal and, when Ernest Bevin (wartime Minister of Labour) set up the Bevin Boys scheme, the nation only had three weeks supply left."

Harry admits he did not like his posting. "I was just an innocent young city boy from a one-parent family," he said.

"I worked at the New Empress Cinema in St Ann's Well Road as a projectionist. A coal mine proved to be a very different world.

"We hadn't a clue about mining. I shared a billet with an engineer from Birmingham and a junior reporter from the Daily Mail."

Harry is proud of what the Bevin Boys achieved – and angry that it has taken so long for their contribution to be recognised.

"Pitmen never really respected us," he said. "We did the menial tasks underground, but we released them to get on with the job of cutting coal.

"Because we didn't have a uniform, people who saw us in the street thought we were conscientious objectors.

"Our old jobs weren't kept open for us. We were left in limbo, the forgotten conscripts."

Bevin Boys gave their lives, just like the fighting men.

Sent to Bestwood Colliery after his training, Harry remembered one young man from Bulwell who was killed while loading tubs on a cage.

"No one knows how many died, all the Bevin Boys' records have been lost," he said.

In 2007, the Bevin Boys were honoured with the issue of a special badge, although it was only awarded to surviving men. It came with a certificate on a flimsy piece of paper, mass-produced without individual names, not even a reference to dates of service.

Harry, who stayed in the mining industry for 16 years and qualified in mechanics and as an electrician before becoming a college lecturer, was not impressed.

Presented with his badge at a Veterans' Day ceremony in Wollaton Park, in front of local MPs and civic dignitaries, he stood up and said the citation was an insult.

"I said that the Bevin Boys' Association had a plot in the National Arboretum with a little plaque and a wooden seat which was rotting away. What we wanted was a permanent memorial. Then I sat down. I felt better after that."

Minutes later he was approached by Councillor Joan Taylor, then chairman of Notts County Council. "How much would you need?" she asked. "Perhaps I can help."

Next April, a large limestone monument will be unveiled at the National Arboretum which will carry the legend of the Bevin Boys and honour all those who served.

"We formed a committee. Joan Taylor is the chairman, I am treasurer," said Harry.

Slim and silver-haired, he defies his years with unbridled enthusiasm and energy. Harry's passion allied to Joan Taylor's political stature drove an appeal that has raised about £25,000, with donations from local authorities across the country, and from individuals.

The design of the memorial, carved from a single piece of Kilkenny limestone by Leicestershire stonemason Graeme Mitcheson, is being kept secret until the day it is unveiled, but it has been approved by the trustees of the National Arboretum.

"I will be over the moon when it is finally completed and unveiled," said Harry.

"It will provide a focus of remembrance for all 48,000 Bevin Boys and the families of those no longer with us. That has been my dream."

The Bevin Boys scheme ran from 1943 to 1945 and nearly 48,000 teenagers were conscripted, along with a small number of volunteers.

Recruits were selected from their unique identity number allocated at registration for National Service.

Each month, a government official drew out of a hat a number between nought and nine.

If the last digit of your identity number was the same, you were called on to become a Bevin Boy.

Famous Bevin Boys were Sir Jimmy Savile; Lord Brian Rix, who voluntarily left the RAF to join the scheme; Eric Morecambe and dramatist Peter Shaffer.