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Post by Matt James on Apr 16, 2009 15:09:32 GMT
Potographs below taken in 1967 or 1968 in the yard at Tontine Street Hanley Toke on Trent 1st Photo Terry Mike & Gary 2nd Photo Terry Martin 3rd Photo. Bernard Walker Hanly Stoke on Trent sent in by Mike Henney
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Post by Matt James on Apr 16, 2009 15:09:06 GMT
Boy Messenger David. G. Miller.Nottingham.T18.I joined the Post Office as a Boy Messenger on the 4th Augusts 1942 at the princely wage of 12/6 per week and completed my messenger service on 28 April 1945 my wage having risen to a staggering 157- per week. Because my father was a Head Postman and liable to be in charge of the Delivery Room regulations stated that I was not allowed to work in the same department, so I was sent to Woodthorpe Drive TSO. This TSO was about two miles from Head Office at the top of just about the highest point of the city. My delivery area was approximately one square mile and in every direction but one was down hill from the TSO, the other direction was the main road out into the country for two miles along a ridge. I was the only messenger at the TSO so it was a lonely existence but it meant that I had little or no supervision, it also meant that as soon as I returned from a delivery I often had to go straight out again. Because almost every trip was down hill and then uphill it was very hard on the bike and brakes and crank axles often needed replacing, and I had to do all the maintenance. Christmas day I had to report in to H.O. and I was handed about 50 greetings telegrams and told when I had delivered them I could go home, these were quite lucrative but hard going, as from H.O. to my area it was all uphill The good side to the TSOs location was that it was in a grocers and confectioners with a bakehouse at the back, so there was always a place to get warm and dry, and the chance of a bun now and then. One memorable incident sticks in my mind was when the vandriver for the shop asked me if I would like to help him clean the van and then I could drive it into the garage about a hundred yards .He sat beside me and explained how to let the clutch out and at the same time accelerate but he didn't explain the finesse needed. So I let the clutch out and slammed my foot on the accelerator and we shot down the drive like a rocket, fortunately he had grabed the hand brake and we finished up parked in the garage but with a bent wing, he didn't invite me again.. David G.Miller T18 Nottingham
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Post by Matt James on Apr 16, 2009 15:08:43 GMT
Alan Brown Christmas Day Birmingham 1959
At 0730 Christmas Day morning , I rode into days early light, From the GPO Severn street Garage , To Penfold Street Telegraph Delivery, On me GPO red Motorbike . There were telegrams by the hundreds In the telegram delivery that day. The PHG had them sorted in office order, to speed us on our way. "There's yours young Brown " said Barry, Indicating a pile on the floor, " I've booked you out." he grinned. " Hurry back there 's plenty more." I started out on delivery, In Sparkbrook I made my first drop. Followed by 3 Sparkhill 4 Hall Green 1 Tysley, T'was then I felt the first rain spot. I still had twenty to deliver So I put my foot hard down. Waved a cheery greetings to a copper, At the edge of Brummagem town, I was soaking wet as I sped through Shirley, So I stopped for a fag and some tea , On the road by Whitlock end Station, On the bend you approach with great care, nearly swiped off me bike By a drunk in a speeding car. Then puffing one of me dads woodbines, And singing out loud in the rain. I stopped parked under a bridge . And squelched up Houndsfield lane . Here stood a posh house , being washed by torrent of rain, Inside I could hear them singing, I hoped with me mind, God rest ye merry Gentlemen And good will to all mankind. The man of the house Came to see me, and snatch at the wags in haste.. Without a thanks or anything. The door was slammed in my face. I trudged back to my Bike..; And upset gave the kick start a kick. The engine sighed and completely died . And I thought oh dear, and flippin heck I knew what was wrong with the engine Water on the points y'see, I only needed a screwdriver, But of course I hadn't one with me I trudged back to the House, And banged again on the door, He was even less pleased to see me Than he'd been the time before. I( asked for the use of a screwdriver “Don’t use them," He said with a frown. So I asked if I could use his telephone, to report to my office in town. By this time the bloke was fuming, An becoming exceedingly sore, Cus rain was dripping off me On fitted Lambtex carpeting in his hall. Then as soon as my call was concluded I was bum rushed back out the front door, the biked and me sat under the bridge And sat there two hours or more. A postal van turned up, splashing me in a pool of rain. The driver took the wags grinned merry Christmas. And buggered off again. Finally a breakdown vehicle appeared, Uplifted the bike and I. We drove back to Severn Street steaming, Whilst the rain poured out of the sky. I got home at 1830 hrs I was due back on Boxing day, but I reasoned if it wunt goo today it aint gunna goo t'morra .so I didn't go in. If I remember rightly it cost me a P18b and two hours pay.
Alan Brown Birmingham
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Post by Matt James on Apr 16, 2009 15:08:16 GMT
I remember you Frank. I was at Burslem ,started 1949 and then moved to Hanley when we had the BSA Bantams, some of the lads from Burslem moved to Newcastle and rode James's 150cc On your photo of four of you on two bikes ,on JXY 195 Jim Locker?? and on the pillion Dennis Collier who during his Nat Service was a member of the the Royal Signal Motor Cycle display team.On the bottom photo 2nd one up is Graham Chell, Derek Carliss and Bert Copeland are also in the photos. Lads at Hanley with myself (Gordon Stockton 1949-1952) were Tom Cope, Ron Roberts, Bert Lowndes, Bill Allport ,Rolf Green, Ken Holdcroft ,Malcolm Botham ,Colin Moore (went to the USA) John Mansell, Terry Martin, John Morris who is also living here in New Zealand. Oh Happy Days Regards Gordon
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Post by Matt James on Apr 16, 2009 15:07:56 GMT
I joined the G.P.O.Telegrams Messenger Boys in early December 1948 and was originaly delivering telegrams on a bicycle and then eventually I was one of the first Telegram Messenger Boys to have the (as then new) Motor Bikes at the age of 16 years in 1949. I have enclosed some photo copies of photo's please see below taken at that time My branch Office at that time was Longton Stoke on Trent They were great times and a great bunch of lads, We were all eventually called up for our National Service Frank Barcroft Badge no 502 starting from top left working left to right then down photo no 1 Frank Bancroft and the lads Longton Stoke on Trent no 2 Frank Bancroft 1948 no 3&4 Taken around 1950 no 5 Frank Bancroft passenger on bike no JXY194 NO 6&7 Bottom pic Frank Bancroft 2nd from left no 8 Frank Bancroft is 2nd from left no 9 Messenger Boys Longton Stoke on Trent 1948 no10 Longton Stoke on Trent 1948-49 office back yard
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Post by Matt James on Apr 16, 2009 15:07:35 GMT
As an Ex Telegram Boy I was interested to read in the BT Today about you research and felt I would like to give you my memories.
My memories go back a long way even longer than Frank Hood from Birmingham. I am now 86 years old and started work as a Seasonal Boy Messenger one month before my 14lh birthday at the Head Post Office at LAIRG in Sutherland. As a boy from a 'not well off family it was vital that I was successful in getting the work which I knew would become permanent by the end of the summer. My Parents had very hard times living on and working a small Croft (Small holding) which made very little money In those days there were a number of Shooting and Fishing Lodges in the Lairg area where wealthy gentry came for their sport etc - there was no telephone communication to those places, in fact it was almost non- existant in the Postal area. During the Spring/Summer months I was kept very busy with many long hard runs to these lodges, in addition to the telegrams to the local populace. To give you example, one day I delivered telegrams twice to one lodge 12 miles away and to two other lodges in opposite directions each over 5 miles away, as well as local runs up to two miles away. To the distant lodges I had to collect Porterage Charges at rates of so much per mile over 3 miles. Occasionally I met some of the gentry on the way and they would give me a 'Tip' (usually 6 pence old money) which considering my weekly wage was 7/6d it was a very good 'Tip' They also gave instruction to their Butler at the lodge to always give me a refreshment before I left. It was very hard work on my Pedal Cycle which I had to keep in tip top condition. On one day in the winter with heavy snow on the roads I had to deliver a telegram to the Estate Lodge Keeper (twelve miles away) over the poor mooreland road. I had to walk with my cycle over 4 miles. Fortunately the Keepers wife gave me a hot meal and just when I was about to leave a lorry appeared on the horizon carrying foodstuffs for the two families living there. The Estate Keeper made me wait and he arranged for me to get a lift back 5 miles to the main road. In the winter months there were few telegrams to deliver so I had to work in the Sorting Office doing several jobs including stencilling the names on the sorting frames which I enjoyed On one occasion I remember stencilling a parcel frame and did what I thought was a good job. The Overseer came along and decided it was not good enough and made me I had to re-do it- When he saw the second attempt he said "that's better, now remember lad if a jobs worth doing it's worth doing well". I always remembered those words and in later years followed his advice. In those days telegrams were sent and received by Morse but I was never given the opportunity to learn it. The telephone eventually took over but at that time was almost no existant One incident concerning Morse I remember was at the early stages of the War when the Battleship HMS Hood was sunk. One of our SC&T's in the Writing Room was listening to Morse Code on a small home made radio when he picked up a distant signal from the ship when it was hit. We were aware of the sinking long before it was announced.
In the summer I played Tennis in the evenings - even after those long runs - and probably that is one reason why I am so fit for my age today , I still enjoy playing Lawn Bowls. Unfortunately I do not have any photographs to show
Boyce Macleod
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Post by Matt James on Apr 16, 2009 15:07:05 GMT
Following my earlier messages while at South Kensington, it was great for us to have the Natural History/Geographical/Victoria and Albert Museums in the vicinity of our office, these were places where we 'could escape' for a while, I found the Science Museum one of the most interesting, and outside this building, there was an elderly gentleman who sold hot roasted nuts, he must have known all of us, we all used to stop and have a chat with him. Also in the area were many colleges, and on their rag days, they really went to town, I can remember seeing someone holding a fire hydrant and spraying it around!! I have forgotten many of the lads names, but we were a down to earth lot, and one chap was my mate Chalie Brooker who lived in Barnes, he had his own motor bike, I cannot remember what it was called now, but I do know it was grey in colour! Then there was another chap who had a BSA Shooting Star (500 I think). There were others, like John Robinson, what happened to both of these ex messengers? I lost touch after being called up, and never saw them again when I returned to the Post Office.
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Post by Matt James on Apr 16, 2009 15:06:40 GMT
what a fabulous read, many thanks _________________ paul girling
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Post by Matt James on Apr 16, 2009 15:06:24 GMT
G.P.O. BOY MESSENGERS BELFAST.I write as an erstwhile Boy Messenger in the Belfast Head Office during the period 4th September 1939 - 1941 when, after what was known as the "Sixteen Exam" I was promoted to what was then called S.C & T (Sorting Clerk & telegraphist) grade - I was a Telegraphist - in which I remained until 1947 when I resigned arising from a dispute with the G.P.O over compulsory overtime. However, I still place a high value upon my 2 years service as a Boy Messenger and this has remained with me throughout a long life not with standing my leaving the Post Office service as previously mentioned, We have an Annual Re—Union the 31st., celebration of which occurred on Saturday, 29th March 2008 when one of our members handed out photo¬copies of a leaflet probably extracted from your computer website, We meet in the bar of a local flat green Bowling Club at 12 noon when chin— wagging ensues for an hour followed by lunch at 1-00 p.m. After a welcoming speech by the Chairman of Committee the "Senior Boy" is honoured followed by entertainment by a visiting organist who accompanies "Turns from the floor", A singalong also takes place and the function concludes with the assembled company rendering "How Great Thou Art", I thought I could usefully enclose a copy of a poem I wrote during the 1980’s which, of course and of necessity, is couched from a local Belfast standpoint. Thus, I feel it necessary to provide a glossary of some of the words and terms appearing therein and peculiar to Belfast, These are:-1. "Buff" means overtime, I don’t know how this originated but may have been taken from the colour of the form upon which one claimed payment. 2.A "Hairy" was a delivery to a very distant address or an address involving difficult cycling in a hilly area, 3."Whacking" was where messengers accompanied each other on deliveries to different addresses in contravention of the Regulations, This was often to addresses on opposite sides of the City and led to boasting that we "Whacked" such and, such an address with such and such an address, I feel that this meant("Whacking" (beating?) the Regulations,4.A "Stew" was a Messenger's term for a meal relief and when the due time for same was close a short "Turn" was often requested. 5.An "Incidental" was a short break to attend a call of nature (visit to the toilet).6._"Scalped" referred to the forceful removal of the red button on top of the cap, 7.A "Soft Job” was secondment to largely indoor duties in the Office or Offices in the Custom House, Telephone House and other ancillary Post Office premises, 8. A "Catch" was a tip from an addressee in contravention of official Regulations that Boy Messengers should not accept gratuities, 9."Corky" was the name given to a notorious elderly lady with a stiff leg and deficient in intelligence who lived close to the City centre which she traversed daily and was, altogether wrongly, tormented mercilessly everywhere she went, 10. A "Turn" was the delivery of a telegram or a number of same, Although not appearing in the poem as it was not applicable to Boy Messengers but in the Sorting Office and Postmens’ Office the term "The Brush" referred to night duty. I do not have a computer and, approaching 83 years of age, I have no intention of obtaining one. Copies of some photographs of Re—unions are enclosed, Whilst I have the dates of a couple of those I did not record the exact year in respect of others and can only mention the decade in which they were taken. In addition to dates I have recorded the venues on the back of each. it will, no doubt, be of interest to you to learn that some of our members travel, as we say locally, from across the water — addresses in England - these are Southampton, Ascot, Bexhill—on-Sea, Rotherham and Peterborough. As is probably the case in your own area many Boy Messengers reached some of the highest echelons in the Civil Service — Customs & Excise, War Office and many other branches. Nicknames were common:— There were 2 lads each with a slant in their eyes (they were locals and certainly not Chinese or Eurasian) they got "Chang" and "Wong" respectively. A fellow who wore rather stiff collars to his shirts got "Pastor". A fellow called Harvey got "Len" after a famous boxer of the time. Similarly one called Hutton also got "Len” in relation to a well-known cricketer of the time. A slow talking fellow got "Lightning". A boy with a somewhat mournful expression was known as "Seldom". One lad of rather swarthy complexion got "Chocolate", A chap whose surname was Green got "Peasare", we had 6 Millers/Millars. One who lived in a Belfast suburb called Glengormly got "Glen" after the district and also the famous American Bandleader, Another Miller was "Dusty". Other nicknames I recall were "Butch" (his father was a butcher), "Bap", "Crooner", "Birdie”, "Moon”, "Cupid", "Harpo" (this fellow had a shock of golden curly hair like one of the Marx Brothers), "Clanky", "Buster", "Porky", "steamboat", a lad who stood some 6 Feet 3inches at age of 14 was known as "Tiny", "Thumper", one whose surname was McCoy got "Tim" after a famous cowboy film star at the time, "Sticky" and "Cuckles" There were many others one of which was applied to a rather sullen fellow who rarely spoke who got "Silent John" although his Christian or forename was Sam, Boys who were caught getting a "tow" from the back of a lorry or other vehicle were punished by being "awarded" with 2 hours extra duty without pay. One was punished as a result of being detected riding up a road between 2 tramcars. One's brass badges, buttons etc had to be cleaned frequently with the use of "Brasso”, brush and button—stick and were inspected before being allowed on duty. we were allowed sessions in the local swimming baths and an annual swimming gala was held. Prior to the outbreak of the Second World War Messengers were drilled on the flat roof of the office building but this was discontinued in fear of enemy aircraft attack. Football competitions were held and a seaside camp was held at Bangor West about 15 miles from the City. Life-long friendships were formed. Many ex-Messengers joined the fore and served in the Army, Navy and R.A.F. I hope all this is of interest to you. My happy recollections of my time as a Boy messenger are summed up in the final lines of my poem. (MERVYN PATTERSON BELFAST FORMER T99)
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Post by Matt James on Apr 16, 2009 15:05:54 GMT
SOME REMINISCENCES OF AN ERSTWHILE BELFAST TELEGRAPH MESSENGER
ON 4™ SEPTEMBER 1939
THE TIME TO COMMENCE WORKING LIFE BECAME MINE THAT DAY AFTER WORLD WAR TWO WAS DECLARED TO ENTER THE POST OFFICE YOURS TRULY HE DARED. AND SO WITH VERY WARY FEET I MADE MY WAY TO CHARLEMONT STREET. THE REASON FOR MY BEING COY WAS THERE THE G.P.O DID EMPLOY A RATHER STRANGE ANIMAL - THE TELEGRAM BOY. AS SOON AS I HAD CROSSED THE MAT I WAS LED UPSTAIRS TO WHERE ONE SHIELDS SAT KNOWN AS THE SHERIFF BY HIS WIDE-BRIMMED HAT. HE IMPRESSED UPON ME THAT I MUST NEVER DESTROY THE REPUTATION OF THE TELEGRAM BOY. SO THERE AND THEN I COMMENCED MY STINT WITH MOOREHEAD McWILLIAMS, FUNSTON AND A ROTUND ROY VINT. THEN I FOUND IT WAS THE NORM TO BE MEASURED FOR MY UNIFORM IN THE MEANTIME A BELT AND POUCH I GOT, AN ARMLET TOO COMPLETED THAT LOT.
AND SO TO THE DELIVERY ROOM I WAS BROUGHT THE MYSTERIES OF TELEGRAM DELIVERY TO BE TAUGHT. I FIRST MET THE MEN WHO MADE THE BOYS GRAFT I MEAN, OF COURSE, THE INSPECTION STAFF. IF I RECALL ARIGHT THERE WERE FOUR ABOUT THEM ALL I LEARNED SOME LORE. PRIDE OF PLACE TO ROBERT HEGAN WITH HIS LOUD BELLOW AND THE BOLD "NACHY" DALY AND HIS FAMOUS "YOUNG FELLA". ANOTHER WITH GENTLER WAYS AND NO FLURRY THE POLITE AND SOFT-SPOKEN HARRY MURRAY, HE CERTAINLY MADE A BIG CONTRAST FROM WEE BOB HEGAN'S BOISTEROUS BLAST, THE ECCENTRIC STEWARTY COULTER WOULD HAVE NEEDED THE LAW SO SORELY WAS HE TORMENTED BY ONE SAM McCAW. I RECOLLECT HEGAN'S RAGE SO RESENTFUL WHEN ONE DARED REQUEST AN INCIDENTAL, OR HIS STARE OF SHEER DISBELIEF WHEN I THOUGHT I WAS DUE A MEAL RELIEF, AND WITH "HAIRIES" HE PERSISTED WITH ENDURANCE, WHEN I TOLD HIM I DID NOT WANT HIS INSURANCE. OF THE REGULATIONS BRASH HEGAN MADE QUITE A FARCE, AS OFTEN HE THUNDERED "I'LL WARM YOUR —-".
NEXT AN OPPORTUNITY I GOT TO MEET - WELL, QUITE A MOTLEY LOT THERE THEY WERE SEATED AROUND THE WALLS FROM EAST, NORTH AND SOUTH, THE SHANKILL AND THE FALLS. NO WILD SHAGGY HAIR OR LENGTHY SIDEBURNS, THEY MOVED IN ROTATION AWAITING THEIR "TURNS", TO A ROOKIE LIKE ME IT WAS SO STRANGE AND NEW TO HEAR A REQUEST LIKE - SHORT TURN FOR A STEW! AND I, TOO, BECAME ONE OF THAT CHOSEN FEW AND TOOK MY PLACE IN THE EVER LENGTHENING QUEUE. BUT WHEN ALL'S SAID AND DONE THERE WAS STRONG CAMARADERIE TOO TWIXT THAT ASSORTED, MISCHIEVOUS AND UNPREDICTABLE CREW. FIRST IMPRESSIONS THEY SAY CAN SO OFTEN MISLEAD THIS PROVED TO BE THE CASE WITH THAT LOT INDEED FOR DESPITE FROST, RAIN, SNOW AND HOT BURNING SUN, THAT MOTLEY LOT THEY GOT THE JOB DONE. THEN OVER THE MYSTERIES OF OLD BELFAST TOWN BIG ALEX JAMISON WAS APPOINTED TO SHOW ME ROUND, THOSE JOYS WERE CONFINED TO WALKING AND BIG ALEX HE DIDN'T DO MUCH TALKING. AT LENGTH TO CYCLE I PROGRESSED THIS I APPROACHED WITH QUITE SOME ZEST, BUT SOON I DIDN'T FEEL SO MERRY,
AFTER A STRING OF "TURNS" THEY CALLED "HAIRY". AND SO I ADVANCED TOWARDS MATURITY, AND LEARNED I MUST NOT ACCEPT A GRATUITY, BUT YOU KNOW, I FOUND IT BOUGHT ME A TREAT, THAT TANNER CATCH AT 50 MAYFAIR STREET. MY EGO WAS TAKEN BY STORM, WHEN I DONNED MY VERY FIRST UNIFORM, I COULDN'T PRETEND THAT IT HELPED, WHEN MY NEW PILLBOX HAT PROMPTLY GOT SCALPED. EACH WEEK TO KEEP US ALL IN GOOD TRIM, WE GOT UP TO FALLS BATHS FOR OUR WEEKLY SWIM, IN CHARGE WAS ONE MAGOWAN JOHN, ON HIM MANY TRICKS WERE PLAYED UPON, ON ONE OF THOSE PRANKS FOR A MOMENT I'LL DWELL, WHEN WE, FOR DEVILMENT, COMPLAINED OF A SMELL, SO JOHN HURRIED IN AND INVESTIGATED, HIS OPINION IT WAS MOST HIGHLY RATED, AND WITH BATED BREATH THOSE JESTERS WE WAITED, THE OUTCOME OF HIS INQUIRY SURE IT WAS ILL-FATED, AND FROM THAT TIME AND INDEED EVER AFTER, I'LL REMEMBER THAT WILD AND SO RAUCOUS LAUGHTER, AS JOHN SO SOLEMNLY DID TELL, OF HIS INABILITY TO SEE ANY SMELL.
THE RULES AND REGULATIONS W E CRACKED THEM AS CREGAGH AND GREENCASTLE WE WHACKED THEM, THE WEEK-ENDS WELL THEY WERE JUST LIKE THE ALAMO, WHEN WE WERE INUNDATED WITH MANY A T.M.O. AND PLUMBER H EGAN'S FORTY MINUTES FOR ORBY DRIVE, WERE ALLOTTED WHETHER YOU DELIVERED A DOZEN OR FIVE. BUT AT LENGTH I WAS LEFT WITHOUT GROUSE, FOR I ANDED A SOFT JOB IN TELEPHONE HOUSE. THE WAR IT CONTINUED WITH INCREASING INTENSITY, AND THE CARNAGE PROGRESSED WITH FRIGHTENING IMMENSITY. SOME WENT TO WAR, AND SERVED IN PLACES AFAR, BUT ONE'S HEART IT DOES BURN, FOR THOSE WHO DID NOT RETURN, SAMMY BRADLEY, TOUGHY SHARP AND BIG HAROLD BLACK, THEY RALLIED TO THE COLOURS, BUT SADLY, DID NOT COME BACK. BUT AS THE GREAT MYSTERY THEY CRACKED IT, I'D WAGER THAT MAYBE THEY "WHACKED" IT, AS THEY JOURNEYED TO THEIR LAST ABODE, PERHAPS THEY REFLECTED UPON RED BIKES THEY'D RODE.
I REMEMBER THE CYCLE MECHANIC, JOE MEGAUGHEY, AN ODD MAN WHO DIDN'T PANIC. I RECALL TAUNTING CAT CALLS AT DEAR OLD CORKY, AND A FELLOW'S NICKNAME I WONDER WHY THAT BECAME PORKY, THE COLOURFUL LANGUAGE OF CORKY'S REPLY, WILL REMAIN WITH ME TILL THE DAY I DIE. I ALSO RECALL A POSTAL INSPECTOR SO SILLY, KNOWN AFFECTIONATELY AS THE BOLD MASTER WILLIE, IN HALING AT WINDOW WITH FACE ALL A GLOW, THE OZONE FROM KELLY'S BONE YARD BELOW. THEN PROMOTION IT ARRIVED WITH A WHAM, AFTER THE RESULTS OF THE 1 6 EXAM, WITH COOKE AND McNAIR UPSTAIRS I DID ZOOM, AND FOUND MYSELF IN THE INSTRUMENT ROOM . UP THERE A WEE MAN CHARLIE CORR - OH SO COOL, TAUGHT US TO TYPE IN THE TELEGRAPH SCHOOL, SIX WEEKS TRAINING WERE ALLOTTED TO ME AND THEN I BECAME A PROUD S.C. & T.
TO TELL YOU THE TRUTH, I FOUND IT A BORE TO BE SURROUNDED BY WOMEN - OCH BY THE SCORE, BUT AFTER A WHILE TO THIS I GOT USED AND THEIR ANTICS SO OFTEN LEFT ME AMUSED. THEN I RESIGNED IN A CONSIDERABLE HUFF BEING FED UP WITH INTOLERABLE COMPULSORY BUFF.
SO IN NINETEEN FORTY-EIGHT, FOR THE LAST TIME I WENT OUT THE GATE. HOW CUSHY THE JOB BECAME IN MORE RECENT YEARS MY ENVY HAS ALMOST BROUGHT ME TO TEARS FOR I NEVER DREAMED OF SEEING THE LIKES OF MESSENGERS DELIVERING ASTRIDE MOTOR BIKES. NOW MUCH TIME'S COME AND GONE MY, OVER FORTY YEARS ON BUT THAT EXPERIENCE I'VE FOUND, QUITE A BOON WITH ITS ACCOMPANYING KNOWLEDGE OF OLD BELFAST TOON THAT KNOWLEDGE HAS STOOD ME IN GOOD STEAD AS ELSEWHERE I'VE EARNED MY DAILY BREAD. THOUGH TRIFLING THINGS ONE DID ANNOY THE PASSAGE OF TIME CAN NEVER CLOY, AS OFTEN I SIT AT NIGHT BY THE FIRE, WITH REMINISCENCES OF WHICH I'LL NEVER TIRE. AND I REFLECT WITH INDESCRIBABLE JOY, UPON THOSE HALCYON DAYS WHEN I WAS A BELFAST TELEWIRE BOY. AND ACH, IN 1982 SURE MY HEART IT WAS SORE, WHEN I HEARD TELEGRAPH MESSENGERS WERE TO BE NO MORE.
Supplied by Mervyn Patterson former telegram messenger boy T99
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Post by Matt James on Apr 16, 2009 15:05:19 GMT
Now 75 and retired for 19 years, I read with interest the article in the BT Today Magazine regarding the Telegram Messenger Boys
I joined as a telegram messenger boy direct from grammer school at the age of 16 ½ on 1st September 1949 and was soon riding one of the 3 BSA 250cc Motorcycles based at Ashford Kent.
Whenever I recall my messenger days the same funny incidents always comes to mind – here are one or two of them:-
I was one of six lads at the Ashford Kent office and at that time all of us smoked. Our system was always that four of us would take turns to buy ½ oz packet of “A1” tobacco at 1s 10d bring it back to the office where it would be cut into four with a pair of scissors, This normally worked very well but on one occasion when it was my turn to buy, I arrived back without it – I had lost it. Nobody belived me so I retraced my steps back to the shop but I hadn’t left it there. On my way back I looked into all the gratings in the path and low & behold about 6 feet down in one of them was our packet of A1, but regrettably there was no way I could get to it, so it cost me for another packet.
At one time the telephone exchange was being enlarged at the end of the Post Office yard and a very large lorry was standing with its tailgate down and scaffold boards up into the back of it. One of the lads came back from a delivery, rode into the yard, saw this and accelerated his motorcycle straight up the boards and into the back of the lorry.
As you must be aware all telegram boys had to be “christened” and our normal procedure involved holding the newby down and pouring water into his face and up his nose however, on one occasion a rather small lad paddy Campbell who I understand returned to Ireland and continued his career in Belfast. Opted to put on as many jackets and coats that we could get o him – he finished up bigger than us but we had to get them off very quickly as he was about to faint – we never did that again.
I suppose we were no different than the lads at other offices but on numerous occasions all our motorbikes would be out of action mainly due to accidents, so on theses occasions we would be sent on cycles, sometimes on 15-20 mile round trips. If this happened we always made darn sure that we didn’t arrive back until it was time to sign off.
I remember being sent out one dark Saturday evening with a telegram, and when the fellow opened it he immediately gave me 10/= note (our weekly wage was £2 5s 6d ) I later found out that he had won on the football pools.
Lastly I must tell of the nice new “James” Motorbike we had delivered to us I think it was 197cc and was a lot faster than the BSA’s it was a wonderful little bike and we had not had it very long when I used it on my shift, on a 14 mile round trip, on my way out I visited one of the lads who had smashed into a brick wall a few days earlier and was off sick, and on my way back to the office, and in a hailstorm, a large lorry van came out of a side turning in front of me. The result was that the bike finished up only half its original length and was a “write off” my “flat topped” crash helmet was handed in and I became a postman and failed a medical for forces service.
Although I went on to become a P & TO and later Post Office Manager I have always considered my 1 ½ years messenger service as the best of my 40 years
Reg Jennings (Kent)
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Post by Matt James on Apr 16, 2009 15:05:00 GMT
Telegram Messenger Boy During The War
I joined as a telegram messenger boy in 1942 , and we called ourselves Moppers, I started at Notting Hill in London. When I first started I wore an armband then later the uniform came and very smart it was with a well polished belt and peak cap, quite a contrast from my fellow Notting Hill Moppers , then when on to late duty when the post office supervisor had gone , All changed !!! the lads dived on me took my cap off and set light to the peak, several unmentionable things also occurred during the initiation ceremony , from then on I was as scruffy as the rest of the messenger boys
I learnt all the dodges, we were not allowed to ride together that was called wozzling, the golden rule was when delivering greeting telegrams to a war time wedding you deliver them at intervals, when you had 3 or 4 for the same wedding you sorted out the best man gave him one telegram and he gave you a tip then you rode around the block came back and gave him the 2nd telegram and got another tip this way you got 3 or 4 tips instead of just one
We worked hard 6 days a week and twice a month worked a Sunday making it a 7 day week , it was suppose to be an 8 hour day , but when I moved to Chiswick an 8 hour day was very rare. For instance if you were 7am to 3pm as you were thinking of leaving ,the supervisor said “where are you going there is this gram to deliver first, we also worked overtime after duty hours and got good pay packets ,some of the postman were envious of our earnings but we put in the hours for it
There was sadness in taking the telegrams with bad news around the poorer streets . A telegram Boy would arrive with the bad news and the women neighbours would follow you to the house to grieve with the young widows
All in all there was great comradeship with fellow moppers I missed that when in 1944 I transferred to the Post Office Telephone side
FRANK COOK
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Post by Matt James on Apr 16, 2009 15:04:38 GMT
I was a telegram messenger boy at Lyndhurst Hampshire from December 1944 untill 1947 when I transferred to the Post Office Engineering Department as a youth in training. Lyndhurst is a rural office in the centre of the New Forest, There were only two Telegram Messenger Boys to provide a 6 ½ day service on bicycles and on two afternoons each week we had to cover Minstead and Ashurst offices, which were about 3 miles distance in different directions I remember delivering missing in action telegrams, as it was the only time we were told the contents , We were never allowed to be idle between calls we had to fold and send back to a cleaning depot dirty bags We also had to trim the string off the lead seals used to seal the bags, and send the seals back to be melted down .Another job was sending the parcel and letter labels back to the originating offices for reuse A couple of things I remember I was the only telegram messenger boy on duty during the afternoon we had to cover the Ashurst area, I delivered one telegram and returned to the office after a 10 mile round trip to find another one for the same address, So I took a telegram pad and envelopes and after delivering the second telegram I phoned the office to see if there were any more in the area, hoping the clerk would dictate them to me unfortunately the Postmaster answered the phone, my motive took a bit of explaining. A lady at Lyndhurst used to have cat fish delivered by express delivery, by the time it reached the office it used to smell awful, so we used to tie the parcel behind the saddle to escape the smell as we cycled, I remember the cycles we rode had beaded edge tyres which enabled us to remove a tyre and mend the puncture and replace without using tyre leavers. I served in the Post Office Telephones and British Telecom until retirement in 1991, In total 46 years service Hoping you will find some interest in my story Please see photograph below taken outside of Lyndhurst Post Office Hampshire in 1909 the telegram messenger boy on the right standing holding the cycle is my father (William Charles Howells (known as Bill) who retired in 1953 aged 60 years old who spend all his working life as a postman at Lyndhurst G.HOWELLS
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Post by Matt James on Apr 16, 2009 15:04:15 GMT
Recently a close friend passed on to me an article from the ‘ Evening Gazette 'Blackpool dated 2/02/08 which you avertised your web site , which concerned the ' Telegram Service ', and the ' Messenger Boys ' who delivered them. This I found very interesting as I myself was one at ' Abingdon Street Post Office ' in the years 1963-65. The motorcycles we used at that time were ' B.S.A. 125cc Bantams which unfortunately were fitted with a governer, making it very hard work against any strong winds. We were allocated our own machines and were responsible for keeping them looking reasonably clean, mine being no.5970. Most of the ' Messenger Boys ' were keen motorcyclists, and owned their own much larger machines which were used for both transportation to and from work, and for pleasure. These like the bikes used for delivering the telegrams were mainly british bikes which _sadly like the service have disappeared, my own being a 500cc Velocette Venom. I donft tend to go into Blackpool Town Centre very much now, but on my last visit it brought back memories passing the front large door on Abingdon St. now permenently shut, where we used to drive our bikes back through after delivering our telgrams. The rear of the Post Office also looks neglected on Edward Street where we used to start our journeys. Its sad to see such a beautiful building now like the service we provided just a memory, and they say this is progress.
Mr Stan Underwood.
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Post by Matt James on Apr 16, 2009 15:03:45 GMT
A TELEGRAM BOY. 1942-1945. I really had no idea what I wanted to do when I was due to leave school, except that I had had the usual thoughts of boys of my age and generation to be a train driver. My father who had worked on the railway during the First World War however, soon shattered my illusions. He told me that I would have to start as a cleaner which could be a filthy job involving cleaning the engines. Later I may get to be a stoker - an equally dirty job shovelling coal into the engine, and then, one day I might get to be a driver. This could involve starting my driving career by being on a local shunting engine, and the hours would not always be an 8 till 5 job, but would possibly entail night shifts and being away from home for long periods. My cherished hopes of grandeur in being the driver of the "Royal Scot' (or similar express) soon vanished. Some time later, a chance incident occurred when I saw a Telegram Boy delivering to the office of a small corn merchant opposite my home and my comment "I wouldn't mind doing that" commenced the chain of events which led me eventually to start on December 17 1942 at Leighton Buzzard Post Office a week before my fourteenth birthday, where I joined and was known by the Post Office title 'Boy Messenger', but more commonly known by the public as a Telegram Boy'. When I started at the G.P.O. I was asked if 1 would mind using my own bicycle as they hadn't a spare Post Office one at that time for me to use. I agreed to this, and was paid 4d a mile, but I was soon earning more than the more senior boys who were on a set weekly wage, so they quickly found me an official bike! Thereafter I earned the princely sum of fifteen shillings and eight pence, (about 78p) a week. In due course I was supplied with a uniform - navy blue with red piping around the cuffs of the jacket and around the collar and edging, and down the seam of the trousers. This was similar to the postman's uniform, except that we wore a pill-box hat, also with red piping and a red button in the centre of the crown. We were also supplied with shoes for summer, and boots (I hated boots, but my mother said they gave my ankles the necessary support) and a short cycling overcoat for winter together with a cycling cape and leggings for rainy days. When I was supplied with my uniform, 1 wore my own blue and white striped tie, as a tie was not supplied with the uniform, and was promptly told by the Head Postmaster that although it was rather a nice one, it was customary to wear a black one. I went out and bought one, and the next day my next door neighbour asked me if I had lost someone in the family! When we arrived on duty each day, we had to present ourselves to the Inspector for his daily inspection, and if our shoes or brass buckle and leather belt failed to attain the shine he desired, we were sent home to effect an improvement. (I must have impressed him -1 don't remember ever being sent home) Our bicycles had to be cleaned weekly, and these were also inspected to see that we had shone them well enough to be seen on the streets by the general public. I was not always so lucky at this - and was asked several times to try again. My request (with tongue in cheek) for a motor bike, brought a predictable response from the Inspector," The next thing we shall be getting you is a coffin'" Our appearance together with those of the postmen was of prime importance and we always had to appear to be seen to be correctly dressed. When I see the postmen of today and see how they dress whilst on delivery, I think of our old Head Postmaster who would 'turn in his grave' if he saw them. We would never be allowed to be out on the streets looking like they do today. The messengers worked three different 'shifts' which started at 8.00 am, 8.30 am., and 10.00 am and ending at varying times up to 8.00 pm. We also worked a Sunday morning session, and also delivered to Wing on Thursday afternoons, and Heath & Reach on Saturday afternoons when their respective sub-offices closed for their half day. We were at a slight disadvantage there as the locality and roads were completely foreign to us. When we were on the late shift, we Used to go to the fish and chip shop for all the staff back at the office who were also working late, and get various quantities of three 'pennorths' of chips and load them into our jacket in order to be able to ride our bicycles back, and the leather belt around our waist prevented them from falling through. (It was lovely and warm too!) During the day, we also visited the local bakeries for iced buns and lardy cake etc. (Oh, those were the days before such things as cholesterol checks !)
Most of the postmen were elderly, as all able bodied men were in the armed forces, and we had quite a number of women both working in the sorting office and also as postwomen, to make up the required staffing numbers. We had our own detachment of the Home Guard and they used to parade outside the office in Church Square on Sunday mornings, and we used to hang out of our first floor window and 'take the mickey' out of them. They all took it in good part except one 'old timer' who used to get upset and say "You can't do that to an old soldier". I regret now that I never had a photograph taken of myself in my uniform, but films were rarely available at that time, as they were all required for the war effort, but I have a newspaper cutting of The Post Office Home Guard' in Leighton Buzzard which brings back many happy memories. The telegram service has now been withdrawn, but was big business when I joined the G.P.O. in 1942. Few people had telephones compared with the present day, and it was one of the quick means of communication. The telegrams cost 9 words for 6d (2'/2p) and a penny for each additional word. This included the address as well as the text which resulted in very brief addresses and text as they were often abbreviated considerably to keep them within the minimum fee. Greetings telegrams were in a pale blue envelope with a specially designed form and were 6d extra. Priority telegrams which were processed and delivered before all others also attracted an additional fee of 6d. As our office was relatively small, and our weekly output of telegrams was about 500, we did not posses a printer for the telegrams but they we sent to us via a private line from Luton Post Office and the messages and envelopes were hand written by the staff on duty at our office. Once I delivered a telegram, and the recipient said on taking it from me, "Oh it's a telegram from our Daisy". "How do you know that" said her husband looking over her shoulder, "You haven’t opened it yet"! "Oh, I recognised her hand writing on the envelope" said the lady. I didn’t think it would be proper for me to correct her. The procedure on delivery was to had them to the addressee (not merely push them through the letter box) and wait for the message to be read, and take any replies that they wished to send, and we carried spare forms for this purpose in our leather pouches. We also carried cards which we left if there was no reply, indicating that we had attempted to deliver a telegram without success, and that we would try again later. Once I had a lady call at my home for hers one evening. I suppose that she thought I took all the undelivered ones home with me when I finished duty ! In our pouches we carried our rule book which stated that under penalty of disciplinary action we were not allowed to accept any gifts or gratuity. We were however, often given a tip of 6d (2l/4pj or a shilling (5p) and sometimes if we were lucky, as much as two shillings (lOp). One day I was offered the princely sum of five shillings (25p). This may not appear to be an unusually large tip, but in those days it was to me a third of my weeks wages ! The only trouble was that the generous benefactor was a postal official who would bound to know the rules. It was the occasion of his daughters wedding, and I was delivering some greetings telegrams -surely he wouldn't try to trap me on such a happy family occasion. I didn't hesitate too long - he might change his mind! I left the reception a lot richer. Delivering telegrams was not without its incidents, - one local road was notorious in my mind for its nosey women. (Broomhills Road) They seemed to have an in-built radar and as soon as the front wheel of my bicycle entered their road, heads would appear, just to find out who was receiving a telegram that day. Sometimes they would stop you and ask if you had one for them, knowing full well that I hadn't, but they hoped that you would reveal which house you was calling at. I soon got wise to this ploy and determined to outwit them. The next time I went to their road I went via the passageway between the houses intending to call at the back door, so that the nosey ones looking out of their front doors would not know which house I was calling at. It was there, I was promptly bitten by a dog for my troubles! A woman's head popped around the corner of the passageway to see what the hullabaloo was, and asked in a silly voice "Oh dear, has he bitten you ?" "Yes he flipping well has" was my reply. I duly reported it when I returned to the office, and my leg went on public display for all and sundry to observe the teeth marks and to comment thereon. The inspector cheered me up no end when he said that if the dogs teeth had pierced the skin, he would have sent me to the doctor for a tetanus injection. Ugh... the thought of that put me off from going down any other alley ways. During these war years it was an unhappy duty to deliver many sad messages. One I can still remember vividly was to a lady who on seeing me at the door when she opened it, took the telegram from me and danced a little jig in front of me, and called to someone at the rear of the house "Oh, its a telegram from Bill, - he is obviously coming home on leave and he has sent a telegram to say what train he will be on". Alas it was not to be, it was a message from the War Office to tell her that he had been killed in action. On reading the message, the poor girl collapsed in front of me and sobbed her heart out. I was then only 14 or 15 years old and I hadn't witnessed an adult react quite like this before. I felt so helpless, and didn't know what to do. Fortunately war had its lighter moments. There were many small contingents in town in all sorts of commandeered buildings including a section of the W.A.A.F.'s (Women's Auxiliary Air Force) in a house opposite the Post Office in Church Square. This house had been requisitioned for their use and we had a daily view from our messenger's room of the girls either arriving off duty and getting undressed and going to bed, or getting up and getting dressed to go on duty, due to the lack of curtains on their windows! This lasted for sometime until the girls wrote home and asked mum to send them something to cover the windows, but there were some who never bothered! One day I had a telegram to deliver to this house. The front door always stood open and as I couldn’t find anyone about, I ventured in and studied the names on the doors. I found the name of the girl I had a telegram for on the first floor, so I knocked the door. "Come in" says a sweet voice. I ventured in and found the girl in bed. I don't know who was the most surprised, - as I am sure she wasn't expecting a male visitor, neither did I expect to find her as the sole occupant of the room in bed. When she read her telegram she said "Oh, now you are one of the boys who watch us getting undressed each day aren't you ? I then began to wish that I was watching from the safety of our room across the road ! One of the chores we had to do, was to sort out mail bag labels, which in wartime we had to keep reusing them until they were no longer serviceable. We tied them up into bundles and returned them to the originating office for reuse. With these, we had to sort out the lead seals which were used to seal the mailbags and on removing all trace of string, bag them up to be melted down to make new seals. The worst chore was the string - this we had to untie and make bundles of it in suitable lengths for reuse. Oh those knots! It took a great deal of patience to untie the string and the piles of it got ever higher. One day I found a loose floorboard in our room and promptly secreted if all away out of sight if anyone should lift those floor boards on the first floor in Leighton Buzzard Post Office now, they might be led to believe that they had found some wartime expedient for under floor insulation - if so, I have news for them ! When we reached the age of sixteen years, we had to sit a Civil Service exam which was basically the three R's- reading, 'riting and 'rithmetic. This was to prove that we were really bright after all, and the result of this exam determined our future. Here is a brief section of the exam I took:- Handwriting ... (time allowed 20 minutes) Copy out a passage detailing the sinking of the U.S.S. Lafayette, formerly the French steamship "Normandie" English Paper 1. (Time allowed 1 hour) Select one of the following subjects:- 1. In what way is cycling less troublesome in wartime than in peace time, and in what ways is it more troublesome? 2.Describe some of the methods used to interest people in War Savings. 3. Imagine you were an eye witness to an incident described in a newspaper about a smash and grab raid. Write a letter to a friend describing what happened. (You must not change the details, but can expand on them). English Paper 2... 1. Read a report which contains about 550 words and make a summary of about 175 words. (If you use more you will lose marks). 2. On the map of Gt Britain supplied, mark the position of Ayr, Bolton, Bristol, Carnarvon, Chelmsford, Dundee, Limerick, Londonderry, Pembroke, Winchester, Wolverhampton. Name the counties: Antrim, Argyll, Cardigan, Cumberland, Midlothian, Shropshire, Somerset, Suffolk. Shade in the Cotswold Hills, The New Forest, the Wicklow Mountains. Insert the rivers: Severn, and the Clyde, Name Arran, Galway Bay, North Foreland, Great Ormes Head, Solent. 3. Describe one of the following characters and outline one incident in which they play a prominent part: Abou ben Adhem, Friday, Goliath, Jim Hawkins, The Lady of Shalott, the Revd John Laputa, Mr Macawber, Jess Oakroyd, Aphelia, St. Paul, Sir Patrick Spens, Touchstone, Tom Sawyer, Sam Weller. Easy wasn't it ? - and the above was only part of it! I obtained the following marks - 36 out of 50 for Writing; 137 out of 200 for English; and 55 out of 150 for Calculations (obviously not my best subject!) The passing of the examination gave me the choice of joining the Royal Navy as a telegraphist, or starting as a Counter Clerk at a Post Office, or joining the Post Office Engineering Department (telephones). In due course, when the Head Postmaster informed me of the results he said" I expect you are like all the other boys, you want to be an Engineer". "Yes", I replied. So it was that I transferred to the Engineering Department in June 1945. What happened then? Ah, that's another story. Sadly the telegram service which I knew, now ceases to exist - the telephone has taken over. And finally ... Some famous last words from the Chief G.P.O. Engineer Sir William Preece speaking in 1876 about the invention of the telephone ... "The Americans may have a need for the telephone, but we do not, - we have plenty of messenger boys!!!!
JohnVickers.
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