Main Works is the oldest Rolls-Royce building on the Derby site. The main hall features a memorial window which was unveiled by Marshal of the RAF Lord Tedder on 11 January 1949.

In the centre of the window stands the figure of a typical fighter pilot of the Royal Air Force. Ready for the battle, in flying boots and 'Mae West', his helmet in his hand, he stands on the spinner of an airscrew, its three blades dominating the lower part of the window.

Behind it are stretched out in long lines the sheds and buildings of the Derby factory which produced these engines with which the pilots won the Battle of Britain. In the lower part, therefore, I have tried to symbolise the work of man's hands, the machine or, one might say, the structure, the bones and muscles.

In the centre, I felt, the pilot should represent the brain. Above and behind him, with outstretched wings, ready to strike, is a golden eagle; here is the heart and spirit.

Beyond, and framing the eagle and dominating all the top of the window, is the resplendent sun in all its glory, symbol of that for which the battle was fought, and towards which humanity lifts up her eyes.

Hugh Easton, designer

The memorial window has also inspired a poem by Frederick Archer, a sheetmetal worker with the company from 1927 to 1963.

Memorial Window

Not in the quiet hush of dim cathedral,
Approached by avenue of pillared stone,
But here it stands, a hands-breadth from the heart
Of this great workshop, with glory all its own
Tread softly brother. Here is holy ground
Although by industry encompassed round

Look not for angel or for martyred saint
Not here their shining virtues are displayed
Here glows a tribute to the flower of youth
Who gave their lives that evil might be stayed
And vanquished. The battle of the skies
Hard fought, was theirs. Our freedom was the prize

Enshrined here, that clear eyed, clean limbed boy
Embodies all the greatness of our race
Devoted duty. Selfless sacrifice
Even to die with dignity and grace
Alas! To drink so young the bitter gall
Forsaking flowery paths at trumpet call

Each time we pass and pause and think
No heathen idol-worship blind, though heroes they
But to perpetuate their everlasting claim
Not to be forgotten. May that flame burn
Higher in us, as to our tasks we turn

Frederick Archer 1898-1969