Post by Matt James on Apr 16, 2009 14:48:30 GMT
Medical and interview done and dusted, I was told to report to the back of the Head Office in Cambridge where I would be met by the senior messenger for the necessary induction and introductions. The date was April 1952, jobs galore outside. Schools used to have employers attending schools recruiting their workforce. I wanted to become a Bricklayer apprentice like my dad but he said no, join the GPO like two of my uncles had before me.
I was told to report at 8.0am and not to be late. 8.30 arrived, still no sign of the senior messenger, 9.0 o'clock, again no appearance, I decided to gain entry through the many 'No entry' signs, 'GPO staff only' hoping that I wasn't going to be shot at the main door. Gingerly passing a row of Red cycles and several Red GPO motorcycles I found this door marked 'MESSENGERS ROOM'
I knocked nervously once then again, then an almighty crescendo of 'Come in' from a room full of messengers. What had I done to deserve this, why hadn't my dad let me become a brickie?
I half opened the door to be met by Sid Chapman doing hand stands from the edge of a bench, PC Tutt with his daily supply of six jam doughnuts tucked into his tunic, the bag being held up by his messenger belt. (PCs mouth always seemed to be covered in sugar and jam.) Big Shirty Nightingale, slouched over a chair with his big grin on his face never knowing if he was evil or just being a friendly grin, Ian Paige standing in the corner polishing his beloved belt.
Noz Norman and Sweeney Todd were our two inspector's, never did get to know what their christian names were. Noz Norman was the inspector on my first day taking me around introducing me to my 'soon to be friends'.
Sid Chapman tried to shake my hand while still upside down and I think I got 11 grunts from the other messengers
While sitting down with Noz, filling in the necessary paper work, I couldn't help but notice dozens of small holes in the front of his shirt also the coffee colour down the front of his jacket but I was shortly to find out why.
The first job I was given was to go to the local tobacconist to buy his daily supply of shag tobacco and a small pouch of snuff. The shag tobacco was in a block which had to be cut then rolled into long staggerly strands. Noz could hardly wait to get the snuff up his nose then sneeze it down the front of his tunic and you if you were near enough. Snuff seemed to be used by numerouse postmen in those far off days, not only staining their tunics but leaving a brown stain underneath their nostrils. The holes in his shirt were the result of the strands of burning tobacco, I never did see his chest.
Mrs Johnson, our cleaner. I can still see this lovely ladies face 56 years on. She must have been well into her 70s or so it seemed. She was a tiny petite lady. hair always in a bun. She would always walk to work at 4.30am pushing her upright cycle whatever the weather with her homemade sausage rolls for her boys in her cycle basket well secured down. I will always think of this lady with great affection bless her.
The rest of my first day has become a blur, I do know that Ian Paige was to become my mentor passing to me his beloved messenger belt on his commencement of National Service with the understanding that I would also keep this belt in immaculate condition, Which I did. After Ian left for his national service, I learned that he was a London evacuee living with Noz Norman not wanting to return to London. I never did see Ian again and Noz died a few years later. Sweeney Todd lived to a ripe old age dieing in his late 90s.
These messengers I've mentioned and many more lads became good friends. I see a few of them from time to time, but time passes.
GOOD LUCK TO ALL MY FRIENDS OUT THERE, AND I REALLY MEAN YOU ALL. WE SAW THE BEST TIMES, IF ONLY WE COULD GO BACK.
WITH KINDEST REGARDS TONY FORDHAM (CAMBRIDGE)
I was told to report at 8.0am and not to be late. 8.30 arrived, still no sign of the senior messenger, 9.0 o'clock, again no appearance, I decided to gain entry through the many 'No entry' signs, 'GPO staff only' hoping that I wasn't going to be shot at the main door. Gingerly passing a row of Red cycles and several Red GPO motorcycles I found this door marked 'MESSENGERS ROOM'
I knocked nervously once then again, then an almighty crescendo of 'Come in' from a room full of messengers. What had I done to deserve this, why hadn't my dad let me become a brickie?
I half opened the door to be met by Sid Chapman doing hand stands from the edge of a bench, PC Tutt with his daily supply of six jam doughnuts tucked into his tunic, the bag being held up by his messenger belt. (PCs mouth always seemed to be covered in sugar and jam.) Big Shirty Nightingale, slouched over a chair with his big grin on his face never knowing if he was evil or just being a friendly grin, Ian Paige standing in the corner polishing his beloved belt.
Noz Norman and Sweeney Todd were our two inspector's, never did get to know what their christian names were. Noz Norman was the inspector on my first day taking me around introducing me to my 'soon to be friends'.
Sid Chapman tried to shake my hand while still upside down and I think I got 11 grunts from the other messengers
While sitting down with Noz, filling in the necessary paper work, I couldn't help but notice dozens of small holes in the front of his shirt also the coffee colour down the front of his jacket but I was shortly to find out why.
The first job I was given was to go to the local tobacconist to buy his daily supply of shag tobacco and a small pouch of snuff. The shag tobacco was in a block which had to be cut then rolled into long staggerly strands. Noz could hardly wait to get the snuff up his nose then sneeze it down the front of his tunic and you if you were near enough. Snuff seemed to be used by numerouse postmen in those far off days, not only staining their tunics but leaving a brown stain underneath their nostrils. The holes in his shirt were the result of the strands of burning tobacco, I never did see his chest.
Mrs Johnson, our cleaner. I can still see this lovely ladies face 56 years on. She must have been well into her 70s or so it seemed. She was a tiny petite lady. hair always in a bun. She would always walk to work at 4.30am pushing her upright cycle whatever the weather with her homemade sausage rolls for her boys in her cycle basket well secured down. I will always think of this lady with great affection bless her.
The rest of my first day has become a blur, I do know that Ian Paige was to become my mentor passing to me his beloved messenger belt on his commencement of National Service with the understanding that I would also keep this belt in immaculate condition, Which I did. After Ian left for his national service, I learned that he was a London evacuee living with Noz Norman not wanting to return to London. I never did see Ian again and Noz died a few years later. Sweeney Todd lived to a ripe old age dieing in his late 90s.
These messengers I've mentioned and many more lads became good friends. I see a few of them from time to time, but time passes.
GOOD LUCK TO ALL MY FRIENDS OUT THERE, AND I REALLY MEAN YOU ALL. WE SAW THE BEST TIMES, IF ONLY WE COULD GO BACK.
WITH KINDEST REGARDS TONY FORDHAM (CAMBRIDGE)