SOMEWHERE, hidden 70 feet below the ground, is a time capsule of nearly 300 years of the town's history, and hardly anyone ever gets to see it.

Deep underneath Emmer Green lies a series of abandoned but not forgotten chalk mines which played their part in everything from fuelling one of Reading's core trades to housing the hidden soldiers tasked with defending it against a German invasion.

But instead of being advertised as a premier tourist attraction the cavernous tunnels remain locked up to all but a lucky few Scouts, writes Chris Anderson.

"Frog! We've got a frog again!"

That was the call of Scout volunteer Alex Kent as the first of our party was lowered down the narrow bricklined shaft into the echoless dark.

Reading Chronicle:

The 70ft tunnel that leads down into the chalk mines

After returning the trapped amphibian to the surface in bag on the end of the abseil rope our guides explained how, as well as playing home to miners and soldiers, these tunnels count bats, newts and the odd unfortunate, fallen frog among its residents.

Checking and then triple-checking the ropes and specialist rig it was then our turn to be sent down.

The first thought, once your eyes adjust to the minimal torch light, is how just quiet and dry the place is.

Once a hive of pick axes and loud labourers the mines are eerily quiet and with so many nooks, crannies and jagged corners no amount of yelling will muster a real echo down there.

According to Reading Museum use of the site dates back to the early 18th Century and graffiti dated as early as 1722 on the walls backs this up.

But there is little definitive history of those early years other than to say the chalk was mined for use in one of Reading's three Bs - in this case brickmaking.

"It makes it more interesting in some ways," explained Colin Blount, group Scout leader and our guide underground.

"Because we don't know everything each time I go down I have more questions.

"I would love to have more information about how it first came into use and how they extracted the chalk but I love that it gets the children thinking."

Reading Chronicle:

Thanks to cash grants and a series of fundraisers the 89th Reading Scouts now have safe access to these mines and get to enjoy something many neighbours do not even know exists.

Giving us the same walk-through as the children's groups the first stop on our tour is a collection of rusting memorabilia, affectionately known as 'the museum'.

Among tools the which shaped the caverns, some up to 20ft high from floor to roof, are a hotchpotch of deteriorating papers and cigarette packets.

Elsewhere in the winding chambers rocks have been assembled around various artefacts that remain as they were left - preserved in situ in a lunar-like bed of dust and rocks.

A copy of the Manchester Guardian from 1942 and a bus timetable from a decade earlier offer strange glimpses into the somewhat mundane day to day worries of those who worked and even lived down below.

Although visitors are forbidden from scratching into the crumbling walls nowadays the age-old old practice of leaving your mark is visible throughout.

Reading Chronicle:

Graffiti scrawled into the mine's walls by the wartime Mayor of Reading

Most notably is the carved name of a fabled department store owner and Reading's Mayor at the time from 1941.

William McIlroy may have left his legacy in the family's business on the Oxford Road and donating a park in Tilehurst to the public, but even he apparently could not resist the urge to prove he had visited this subterranean space.

During the Second World War the mines saw themselves brought into a different kind of action as a safe haven for some of the town's archives, with piles of deteriorating tea chests being all that remains.

Phone cables and power lines also show the meagre provision for those in Winston Churchill's 'secret army' who lived in the caves ready to act as a last line of defence if an invasion took place.

Colin said: "They were down there to defend against the Germans in an operation that cut across the country from the Thames estuary up to Wales.

"Their main mission was to stop anybody crossing that line so it was a case of them taking the bridges out.

"They would have been down there with stacks of explosives to blow up Reading and Caversham bridges if the call came in."

Reading Chronicle:

The remains of the tea chests which held the town's archives during WWII

Unsurprisingly much of what is known about its wartime use is held in the collective memory of neighbours rather than in writing.

Post-1945 the mines appear to have fallen into disuse with chalk excavation ending before the 1950s.

In more recent years, since they were safely brought back into action, they have been used as a recording studio for a capella groups and voice over artists seeking perfect acoustics, as well as tempting location scouts for the recent Robin Hood remake.

But despite their obvious draw they remain off-limits to all but those who join the local Scouts.

Colin added: "It's like that to protect the mines. We're allowed to take our young people down there because we've had the training in what to do and got the relevant permits but it's a very delicate environment.

"Even stone steps get worn down when people walk over them but this is chalk so just imagine what would happen - I'd rather keep it for the children and let them enjoy these new experiences."

For more information on how to get involved in becoming a Scout volunteer contact Colin Blount on gsl@89th.org.uk

Do you know any more about the history of these mines? Comment below or email news@readingchronicle.co.uk