Post by Matt James on Apr 16, 2009 16:43:37 GMT
We were four youths who were telegram Messengers in 1941/42/43 thus experiencing several enemy air raids on the City. The worst one of course being The Blitz of Canterbury in the early hours of 1st June 1942, as a result of which our telegram service was inundated with hundreds of incoming telegrams from anxious relatives around the country.
John May, who normally worked as an Indoor Messenger at Telephone House, was given one of our famous heavy red pushbikes and sent to help with deliveries. We were later referred to as "The Blitz Boys".
JOHN MAY recalls: "The City itself was in chaos, the streets blocked or littered with masonry and glass, with fire hoses everywhere and the air filled with the stench of fire and dust. It was surprising tho' how quickly the streets were cleared, allowing us to cycle to most places."
The backlog of telegrams lasted two or three days, after which John handed back his bicycle and returned to the peace of Telephone House.
FRANK SULLIVAN recalls: "The normal telegram service involved certain regular deliveries to business houses, bookmakers, fishmongers, auctioneers on cattle market day. These deliveries would often earn a penny tip, rarely twopence, and on such occasions we would pop into Taylor's Bakery on the corner of Best Lane/High Street to buy a pennyworth of "stale wads" (yesterday's unsold cakes at three a penny) and back to the Messengers' Room for a feast. We were paid an extra shilling per week if our bicycles were clean and oiled. They were carefully inspected before we got our shilling."
RON COLEMAN recalls: "Cycling all day and every day wore holes in the seat of our blue serge trousers, so off to the Head Postman, Mr. Ernie Austin, for a ready made patch which we took with the frayed trousers to a one-legged tailor, Mr. Deverson, in King Street who machined the patch on in no uncertain manner and for the next day or so the trousers were slightly uncomfortable!! All around the City were RAF balloon sites, also Ack-Ack sites (Anti Aircraft Gun Sites) all of which had a cookhouse where a thirsty messenger boy might scrounge a cup of tea. Sometimes to get to the gun site meant cycling through a fruit orchard, well now, we could all ride "no hands" and pluck a nice rosy apple as we rode by."
Every Friday morning all messengers 'paraded' before the Chief Inspector, Mickey Jonnings, a very strict, ex-Army sergeant-major. He would check our collar and tie, our clean shirts and shoes and all the brass on our uniforms, ie hat badge, buttons and belt buckle. If all was satisfactory we would receive our weekly pay of approximately ten shillings, and now the four gentlemen below are the same four boys above fifty-seven years later. From being messenger boys in Canterbury we became telephone engineers in Canterbury. We now meet occasionally and recall those past times and events, pranks and mishaps but then that's what memories are for aren't they?
Ron Coleman
Dave Wigmore as his shirt suggests is now living in Australia
John May, who normally worked as an Indoor Messenger at Telephone House, was given one of our famous heavy red pushbikes and sent to help with deliveries. We were later referred to as "The Blitz Boys".
JOHN MAY recalls: "The City itself was in chaos, the streets blocked or littered with masonry and glass, with fire hoses everywhere and the air filled with the stench of fire and dust. It was surprising tho' how quickly the streets were cleared, allowing us to cycle to most places."
The backlog of telegrams lasted two or three days, after which John handed back his bicycle and returned to the peace of Telephone House.
FRANK SULLIVAN recalls: "The normal telegram service involved certain regular deliveries to business houses, bookmakers, fishmongers, auctioneers on cattle market day. These deliveries would often earn a penny tip, rarely twopence, and on such occasions we would pop into Taylor's Bakery on the corner of Best Lane/High Street to buy a pennyworth of "stale wads" (yesterday's unsold cakes at three a penny) and back to the Messengers' Room for a feast. We were paid an extra shilling per week if our bicycles were clean and oiled. They were carefully inspected before we got our shilling."
RON COLEMAN recalls: "Cycling all day and every day wore holes in the seat of our blue serge trousers, so off to the Head Postman, Mr. Ernie Austin, for a ready made patch which we took with the frayed trousers to a one-legged tailor, Mr. Deverson, in King Street who machined the patch on in no uncertain manner and for the next day or so the trousers were slightly uncomfortable!! All around the City were RAF balloon sites, also Ack-Ack sites (Anti Aircraft Gun Sites) all of which had a cookhouse where a thirsty messenger boy might scrounge a cup of tea. Sometimes to get to the gun site meant cycling through a fruit orchard, well now, we could all ride "no hands" and pluck a nice rosy apple as we rode by."
Every Friday morning all messengers 'paraded' before the Chief Inspector, Mickey Jonnings, a very strict, ex-Army sergeant-major. He would check our collar and tie, our clean shirts and shoes and all the brass on our uniforms, ie hat badge, buttons and belt buckle. If all was satisfactory we would receive our weekly pay of approximately ten shillings, and now the four gentlemen below are the same four boys above fifty-seven years later. From being messenger boys in Canterbury we became telephone engineers in Canterbury. We now meet occasionally and recall those past times and events, pranks and mishaps but then that's what memories are for aren't they?
Ron Coleman
Dave Wigmore as his shirt suggests is now living in Australia