Post by Matt James on Apr 16, 2009 14:59:32 GMT
I started at the Post Office/ G.P.O as it was then as a telegram messenger boy, when war broke out in 1939, I was an errand boy for a local grocer and had learnt to ride a delivery cycle with a small wheel and large basket at the front and a normal wheel at the back
To make sense of my story I must give you a little background information.
At the outbreak of war the school I attended had a school from London join us. The pupil numbers meant each school had ½ day lessons morning one week afternoons the next. The days were completed by scrap metal collections and waste paper collections using an old costermongers barrow.
The local sub H.P.O had 4 messenger boys and in 1939 the two eldest had just been upgraded to postman. This left two younger boys one of whom was a mate of mine , The two elder lads soon got called up and vanished into the forces , my mate said you can ride a bike so why don’t you try for a post as a messenger boy I’ll mention your name to the postmaster I pointed out I wasn’t old enough he said no one will check and your such a big sod lie I was 13 years old 6’ 2 ½ inches tall and weighed 14 ½ stone very fit from playing sports so I duly got an interview and the postmaster was an old man pulled out of retirement and he said you can start on a temporary basis until your 14 years old and told me to speak to my headmaster to make sure it’s ok.
I had an interview with my headmaster and pleaded that this was a wonderful chance of a life time job anyway I won him round and was told I could have the job so long as I reported to the school once a month until I was 14 years old , so I started as a boy messenger
No uniform supplied just a black belt and pouch and an armband but was given a new bike bright red but no carrier I was allowed to take it home if promised to take good care of it. My first taste of telegram delivery was a bit of a baptism by fire it was just after Dunkirk and the War Office Red Priority Grams seemed to be never ending blokes believed killed or missing I had several women faint at the door my solution was to fetch a neighbour later on when the Red Cross had located many of the men in POW Camps I got several hugs and kisses for the good news I delivery
One particular incident sticks in my mind I took telegrams to a wedding of a young couple held at an hotel 2 to 3 miles away I kept count of the number I delivered 24 towards the end of the day the best man said how many times have you been here today 24 I said well done he said and gave me 6d for each trip 12 shillings more than I got for a weeks shift.
The sad thing was about a year later I took the telegram to say his ship had gone down on an Atlantic convoy and he’d been lost I remember his wife was expecting their first child.
Within our delivery area we had a lady named Mrs Griffin she lived in a caravan stuck in a wood on the edge of the Chilterns ,She trained Alsatians to find people buried in bombed houses and got awarded the MBE for her work She frequently got telegrams and delivery was ok if she was there but if she wasn’t we left the telegram in a locked box at the side of the caravan and lifted the mail flag this was ok if the dogs were locked up but one day I had just delivered a telegram and lifted the flag turned to walk back to my bike left on the road to be faced by snarling great dog with a mouthful of bared teeth
Anyway the damn thing penned me to some steps near the door of the van and there I sat until the postman whose round it was turned up looking for a long overdue messenger boy, luckily the dog knew him and allowed its self to be safely chained up
The sequel to this was no more telegrams were to be left in future unless she moved her mailbox to the roadside.
Another thing that has left a lasting memory on me was there were a plastic surgeon that pioneered skin replacement and he particularly worked on young pilots who had been badly hurt. There was a beautiful riverside mansion near the river Thames with wonderful grounds the American owner offered the use of the place to the plastic surgeon to allow his patients to have a place to converless, some of these young men had no features left nose and ears burnt off
The nursing staff were all chosen for good looks and off duty they were encourage to wear pretty frocks etc and mix with their patients . To this end they held regular dances for those that could still dance , we boys used to deliver telegram there and we were told we had to deliver to the officer personally , we were told to sulute and say pilot offices or what ever rank he was I have a telegram for you Sir
It was all aimed at bolstering their self esteem after their ordeal
The rear of the sub H.P.O where I worked was the local automatic telephone exchange and I had struck up a friendship with one of the engineers there, He sometimes showed me around the equipment I had been warned the messengers exam was coming up and our new postmaster had offered to coach me for it, anyway I was successful and was offered a place on the engineers P.O.E.D. I accepted and enjoyed the next 45 years as a engineer
Unfortunately I have suffered two strokes which have left me disabled and partially sighted
I had a wonderful time as a messenger and still remain friends with other lads, the office got downgraded and of course the telegrams died out
Just to add something , that always gives me a smile when we had a new postmaster ,he was a ex-army man a Major who had been in Burma and he had a nervous breakdown, as I said earlier I was a big chap and one girl clerk gave me a dogs life teasing and making me go red
I finally had enough and picked her up and put her upside down in to the letter sorting frame , imagine the scene a nice pair of legs waving about out of the frame her skirt had fallen around her legs like a rose petal , when in walked the new head postmaster
I of course received a rollocking but he must have liked what he saw because within a year they had married, another string to my bow matchmaker
Alan Sadler
To make sense of my story I must give you a little background information.
At the outbreak of war the school I attended had a school from London join us. The pupil numbers meant each school had ½ day lessons morning one week afternoons the next. The days were completed by scrap metal collections and waste paper collections using an old costermongers barrow.
The local sub H.P.O had 4 messenger boys and in 1939 the two eldest had just been upgraded to postman. This left two younger boys one of whom was a mate of mine , The two elder lads soon got called up and vanished into the forces , my mate said you can ride a bike so why don’t you try for a post as a messenger boy I’ll mention your name to the postmaster I pointed out I wasn’t old enough he said no one will check and your such a big sod lie I was 13 years old 6’ 2 ½ inches tall and weighed 14 ½ stone very fit from playing sports so I duly got an interview and the postmaster was an old man pulled out of retirement and he said you can start on a temporary basis until your 14 years old and told me to speak to my headmaster to make sure it’s ok.
I had an interview with my headmaster and pleaded that this was a wonderful chance of a life time job anyway I won him round and was told I could have the job so long as I reported to the school once a month until I was 14 years old , so I started as a boy messenger
No uniform supplied just a black belt and pouch and an armband but was given a new bike bright red but no carrier I was allowed to take it home if promised to take good care of it. My first taste of telegram delivery was a bit of a baptism by fire it was just after Dunkirk and the War Office Red Priority Grams seemed to be never ending blokes believed killed or missing I had several women faint at the door my solution was to fetch a neighbour later on when the Red Cross had located many of the men in POW Camps I got several hugs and kisses for the good news I delivery
One particular incident sticks in my mind I took telegrams to a wedding of a young couple held at an hotel 2 to 3 miles away I kept count of the number I delivered 24 towards the end of the day the best man said how many times have you been here today 24 I said well done he said and gave me 6d for each trip 12 shillings more than I got for a weeks shift.
The sad thing was about a year later I took the telegram to say his ship had gone down on an Atlantic convoy and he’d been lost I remember his wife was expecting their first child.
Within our delivery area we had a lady named Mrs Griffin she lived in a caravan stuck in a wood on the edge of the Chilterns ,She trained Alsatians to find people buried in bombed houses and got awarded the MBE for her work She frequently got telegrams and delivery was ok if she was there but if she wasn’t we left the telegram in a locked box at the side of the caravan and lifted the mail flag this was ok if the dogs were locked up but one day I had just delivered a telegram and lifted the flag turned to walk back to my bike left on the road to be faced by snarling great dog with a mouthful of bared teeth
Anyway the damn thing penned me to some steps near the door of the van and there I sat until the postman whose round it was turned up looking for a long overdue messenger boy, luckily the dog knew him and allowed its self to be safely chained up
The sequel to this was no more telegrams were to be left in future unless she moved her mailbox to the roadside.
Another thing that has left a lasting memory on me was there were a plastic surgeon that pioneered skin replacement and he particularly worked on young pilots who had been badly hurt. There was a beautiful riverside mansion near the river Thames with wonderful grounds the American owner offered the use of the place to the plastic surgeon to allow his patients to have a place to converless, some of these young men had no features left nose and ears burnt off
The nursing staff were all chosen for good looks and off duty they were encourage to wear pretty frocks etc and mix with their patients . To this end they held regular dances for those that could still dance , we boys used to deliver telegram there and we were told we had to deliver to the officer personally , we were told to sulute and say pilot offices or what ever rank he was I have a telegram for you Sir
It was all aimed at bolstering their self esteem after their ordeal
The rear of the sub H.P.O where I worked was the local automatic telephone exchange and I had struck up a friendship with one of the engineers there, He sometimes showed me around the equipment I had been warned the messengers exam was coming up and our new postmaster had offered to coach me for it, anyway I was successful and was offered a place on the engineers P.O.E.D. I accepted and enjoyed the next 45 years as a engineer
Unfortunately I have suffered two strokes which have left me disabled and partially sighted
I had a wonderful time as a messenger and still remain friends with other lads, the office got downgraded and of course the telegrams died out
Just to add something , that always gives me a smile when we had a new postmaster ,he was a ex-army man a Major who had been in Burma and he had a nervous breakdown, as I said earlier I was a big chap and one girl clerk gave me a dogs life teasing and making me go red
I finally had enough and picked her up and put her upside down in to the letter sorting frame , imagine the scene a nice pair of legs waving about out of the frame her skirt had fallen around her legs like a rose petal , when in walked the new head postmaster
I of course received a rollocking but he must have liked what he saw because within a year they had married, another string to my bow matchmaker
Alan Sadler