THERE WERE 912 VIEWS in last 24hr period of the last excellent post from CHRIS,only2 comments, there must be hundreds of stories out there ,does not have to be truck related in my view, if i can write mine like i have done early on theses pages anyone can ,any type of ■■■■ up /ZB UP that pleases our/my sense of humour would be welcome from me. DBP.
I’ve got dozens more stories, problem is ther is no Statute of Limitations in this country. 
Here’s another one from my mate, when he first told me the story i nearly wet myself laughing so here we go.
My mate who by now was an owner driver was on traction work for Ferrymasters, so rings up the traffic office after tipping a load to see what’s next to do. Traffic office come back can you run into Fram filters Llantrisant and pick up an empty tilt from there. So matey get’s there and starts looking for the elusive trailer, and can’t find it anywhere on the trailer park as such.
Quick walk over to security and asks do they know whereabouts and after a few " Phew don’t know mate" one of them says " have a look round the back, think there is a trailer there."
So a quick trundle round and there it is in all it’s glory!!
This trailer had obviously been stood there for quite a few months, and as any of you who have done any sort of traction work will know, it had been slowly robbed of parts.
All lights missing, tailboard bent and damaged, and on looking inside most of the wooden slats missing, and also the big problem was that some of the roof bars had been nicked. This meant that over the months it had been stood there was a bloody great lake of water on the top of the tilt, that in the middle of the trailer the canvas was literally down to head height!
So matey gets in the back and gets one of the loose bars and tries poking the canvas to try and get rid of some of the water with not much success. Then a little light pop’s into his head I’ll just put a little nick in the canvas with my penknife"
Penknife in hand just put a little nick in and “RIP WHOOSH” the canvas split lengthways and about 2 tonne of water came crashing down into the trailer at such a force that it literally washed him out of the back of the trailer with some of the loose wooden slats that he looked as if he had surfed out of the back.
One of the security guards happened to be having a walk round at the time of the surfing event , and was bent double in laughter saying it was about the funniest thing he had ever seen, before making sure matey was alright.
I have looked up the Statute of Limitations ,and learned ?nothing ,unless there is murder involved there are time limits to certain offenses just change names or locations ,they cant be that bad.
Vic, I’ll take the risk if you promise to bake me a cake, complete with file, should it come back to bite me. 
HAA brilliant ,dont be guided by me i was a bad influence for going on the ■■■■.in actual fact that rings a bell, this is true i was along with many others a driver on A.C.H bound for ATHENS WITH A -ANOTHER PETER??from originally Liverpool who later went on to fridge work from sckemesdale[Liverpool area].
ANY WAY if you have ever read any of my posts i was a confirmed self caterer would not use any resturant whatever country i was in ,the trip[scouse ] as we called him were running together and we got on well also we liked a beer so as it was peter he persuaded me to go to the BAKE HOUSE for our nights stay the very first time after years of avoiding it it was SATURDAY NIGHT THE ONLY BRITS THERE as we had fridges we could drive on SUNDAY if we had got pulled i think we would have been in the -hit as it was ment for fridges with fresh produce , + 2/3 but if the boss said go you did in actual fact drive…
the cargo we had onboard was kodak film paper and had to be carried at +12/15 ANY TIME not your exact fridge cargo but it was as far as they were concerned.
AFTER EATING we then got stuck in to the beer i did not drink wine we slowly got ■■■■■■■■■ nothing new there whatever time it was i have no idea the building was wooden like a swiss chalet on the road out side there were a lot of plastic white garden chairs ,so we came up with the idea who will stop sitting in a chair side by side in the middle of the road the road had a dip in it so you could not see far the way we were looking ,and there we sat having a ■■■ and waited and waited in the end we gave up and flaked out in our bunks never to do it again . we were so bad at drinking 2 days later after tipping in ATHENS KODAK IT WAS MY BIRTHDAY and i never told pete because i knew what would happen we went different ways for fruit pick ups in ITALY.100% true .dbp.
I was delivering roof trusses, from Brisbane to Townsville, for a large shed being built on the wharf.
I could complete the round trip quite comfortably in a week. Each load was 20 metres long, 4.5 metres wide and stacked six high, so required an ■■■■■■ and was restricted to daylight travel.
Back then we could only work for twelve hours in any twenty-four. By the time I had unloaded, I had run out of hours. I wasn’t tired so was reluctant to hang around Townsville, twiddling my thumbs. I decided to head back and pull up when I felt I could sleep. That meant not doing anything that would draw attention to myself. The truck wasn’t speed limited (100 kph), so I’d have to be careful in that respect. I fell in behind a modern, three axle coach, who after a few minutes offered to back-off so I could pass him. I explained to him that I was happy where I was, using the “Denning” (brand of coach) speed limiter. We chatted for a while, then he revealed that he was the only male aboard the chartered coach, the forty-five passengers were on their way to Hervey Bay for a netball competition. Before departure he had checked everything, only omitting the toilet paper.
I always carried toilet paper in the truck and offered that for the cause. We pulled up and I handed over the treasure. Once we got going again, he geed up the entire coach to sing “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow”, over the CB, for every man and his dog to hear.
I don’t want a striped suntan, so will let you know if the aforementioned cale is required. 
Thanks for the positive comments on my story. It was something I started writing during lockdown with high hopes that Netflix or Amazon would pick it up and produce a “Made for Tv” Movie. I thought it was about time we had another film where the lorries were the stars; plus Nomadland had been a big success, so maybe another low budget, small cast, road movie would be appealing. No such luck however, these streaming channels don’t entertain unsolicited screenplays. Anyway, it was nice to get it out there after all the time I spent on it.
I can remember regularly telling my stories, propped up at the bar in Whitwood Truckstop, over twenty years ago. One night it hit me that nobody believed a single word I was saying. Nobody called me out as a liar or argued; they just turned away and ordered another beer. A bit like this thread: read and don’t comment then scroll-on. But as DBP says, there must be hundreds of tales out there, waiting to be told. I know a thousand words on an iPhone is bloody hard work but fire-up that old laptop and get writing. There won’t be any financial reward but hopefully you pay back the enjoyment others have given to you.
A SHORT HISTORY OF WHERE I CAME FROM. dbp.
A friend told me that he could remember his very early years at a prima-ry school, he was about four years old, he told me he was able to recall even there the teachers who lived in the village never changed for years in fact all the teachers at the secondary school never changed we were all well documented ,all living in a smallish village sitting in a valley that was original in WARWICKSHIRE but got changed to NORTHAMPTON-SHIRE that was after my school years .
The eleven plus examination was a blur , I had no idea what it was really about I only knew that I would not be going to the Grammar school.
Also a left handed writer I am sure held me back we used the old pen and ink as I wrote I smudged all i had written ,what baffles me to this day why was it not noticed ,teachers just looking at my books could tell that a spider had written whatever, I am sure I was not the only one.
I went to Woodford Halse Secondary Modern school where all the chil-dren who did not pass the eleven plus exam, children from villages around the area surrounding Woodford Halse my brother had been there for four years his time was nearly over he was getting ready to leave school when I started there.
Children labelled brighter had passed the eleven plus they went to the Grammar school at “Brackley ” providing the family were able to afford the unforms and all hidden extras there were some scholarships in place for the not so well –off families the children would travel by train every day, including Saturday morning.
i did not understand how much education would be playing in my future I should have tried harder I am sure it was pointed out to me on my school reports from school ,to be honest ,what does try harder mean ,I expect I was doing my best , I was not as good as others there were 38 in the mixed class ,boys, girls we were the B stream also children the same age as us were in the A stream to be honest I just thought the A and B streams was because of the amount of us all the same age group ,I was wrong all the As were the taught the same subjects but at a higher level
We lived in a railway village dominated by the great British railway THE L.N.E.R. the London north eastern region, it ran from YORK down through the counties through to LONDON .
The village was a hive of activity day and night men working in all de-partments than made the railway engine repair sheds, repair shops for the wooden wagons ,blacksmiths shop, pits that the engines, would be driven over so men like my dad could do the repairs underneath also a massive coal hopper that filled the engine tenders up with coal for the work journeys, a bay called the steam rising bay ,men were employed to clean out the old ash from the hours of fire being used to raise the steam to drive the engines ,once they had done that they would then lay a fire inside the engine fire box to start the cycle over again these men were called “steam raisers” apparently there was a special way fires were made in side the fire box ,also how the coal was put inside it was not thrown in it was laid in .
Most families, from the early railway workers maybe four generations before me mostly men, and some ladies were employed in some way or another on the railway, most young boys were destined to work on the railway [except one]?when leaving school.
My dad also my brother were both engine fitters they repaired all types of steam trains, and assisted in brake down and accidents in between a certain area along the rail track.
There were so many different ,highly skilled trades working railway com-pany you would expect to get a position when leaving school , a lot of men and families moved from many areas to work at Woodfordhalse the reason our village was home to a large number of young railway men who wanted to progress within the railway industry mostly as FIIREMEN on the engine footplate hoping to get a promotion as a engine driver it was a very long progress not many engine drivers stopped work until re-tirement or death it was a very prestigious job and well paid
The majority of young men not locals were from the north of England, Wales, Scotland, Ireland two houses joined together 4 stories high on a steep incline within a block of about 20 houses all joined together all had a cellar, the accommodation was fully serviced by food cleaning etc just like a service men’s barracks with staff quite a lot of the local women worked there as cooks and cleaners ,and what I know now other services however back then I was too young to know, it was called the BAR-RACKS the village would be described as cosmopolitan.
There were 4 places for RELIGION within the village ,Church of Eng-land, Roman Catholic Moravian ,Methodist.
How that come to be I have no idea why so many in a small village also 3 pubs 1 railway club that used to be the gorse hotel I was born opposite it was used as a barracks during the 2nd war.
There was a very large village hall it had 6 full size snooker tables within it all along the outside wall inside were long metal snooker cue holders all with padlocks on and years later no one knew who owned any. we were only allowed in if accompanied by a adult who played snooker so I never got to go in until I left school then it closed down for lack of use.
I used to wonder how some of the children would get to go in there it was only years later i found out that some children had mixed /dubious par-entage I could not understand that some children’s dads spoke with strange accents it was never explained why that the northerners ,scots, welsh, Irish ,the odd foreigner, were not local and you dare not ask your parents.
My Fathers, Father was a skilled engine driver, a very advantageous and skilled position within the Railway workers especially in a village after long years waiting for the pinnacle of their careers to arrive, they were highly paid and respected , the Railway guards came a close second to the higher echelon of the railway workers ,that were not Staff…Staff were the Station Master ,Engine shed boss also clerical …
Compared to a lot of the more menial jobs it took about 25 to 30 years for a young man starting as a “engine cleaner” then wait his turn to get to a fireman on the footplate FOOTPLATE=is where the engine driver and the fireman [drivers apprentice] as drivers mate shovelling the coal from the engine tender in to the engine fire box that made the steam for the engine to travel .
To get to the position as a train driver was a long working process of working and waiting also lots of rules had to be learned as well because of the different destinations’ within the railways, starting from the place you worked at, [Woodford going to Leicester –to Nottingham to Doncas-ter .all the signals etc a very intensive job to learn in fact the older drivers knew the “roads” so well they let the training fireman do most of the work, knowing when to put more coal on to get more steam to get the power to go up hills=speeds etc…
It was a dead man shoes job they used to have to learn all the rules of the road [track] like compared to a London cab driver doing the [knowledge] there was a hierarchy within the ranks of all rail employees mostly self-appointed however accepted like ranks in the military.
Some of the drivers only drank in certain pubs, it was a popular pass time within the men of the village, there were 4 pubs all going concerns as many men were all on different shifts at different times getting in the beer was very important, i remember my Grandmother going over to the local pub to get a jug of beer for dinner time It would have a tea towel over the top no bottled beer to take away back then you drank in a pub or collected it yourself from a little hatch way in a corridor ,you had to tap on it ,as I got older I would go with my gran just to get a look inside as I had no idea ,you could always hear noise from the open windows what went on in we had no idea side children were not allowed in pubs .
The railway workers were as close knit as the miners however a lot of the men who worked, and lived, and lodged in the village liked the booze and it did follow on with me…
We lived in a cottage terrace house opposite a catholic church and next door a very large old coaching house that was a railway men’s club , now Woodford working men’s club out at the back of the club were lots of stables that were used as show vegetables ,also all types of small ani-mals, rabbits, chickens, ,cockerels, ducks ,fruit ,most gardening products the whole lot, I remember you would see working men walking to and from work always dirty clothes but on show day, some would have nice suites ,medals in their jacket, a name tag around their necks, flower in their jacket lapel ,with a name badge like 2ND JUDGE ,SCRUTINER ,also a straw boater ,shiny shoes very smart men of importance for the day.
i could not understand why my dad was not included as one of them, as he knew them all, he had 2 allotments like most men did growing prize vegetables like most men hoped to he never bothered to show any pro-duce at all it was to feed the family years later i did get it ,he did not need the accolade of being better than others, to him his job was enough of importance for him…however he never told me that
All the teachers at both school lived within the village and some of the teachers ran different activities for the parents l the mothers union ,ladies guild , they all needed a person of authority and respectability to give the basic smooth running ,as a village is full of people with delusions of grandeur, the posh accent speakers from outside -newcomers , the best dressed ,some of the good and great would be first to run to the jumble sales and whist drives…
My Mother would not have any secondhand goods what so ever in the house what she did not make or brought new we went without but had to wait for certain clothes like i did for my very own pair of long trousers aged fourteen ,yes 14.it was on my 14tnth birthday i also got confirmed in to the church by the Bishop of Peterborough that very same day, for me the long trousers were the main event, the church i did not understand a word of it, but it was what the good sons did, i got told to do, the same as the others joining the church choir , all my mothers friends sons were in it so why not me ,what she never realized i could not sing however sadly no one told her, for another reason.
We turned out to be one of the lucky families to move in to a brand new 3 bedroom, bathroom and toilet upstairs a dining room ,a lounge a kitchen, A outside toilet, a wash house ,a coal house all under the same roof new modern” council house” they housed mostly railway workers however the odd teacher, and A DOCTOR, AND NURSE all had new houses .very smart for the year.
However tragedy struck after about one year in , my mother was in the maternity ward in BANBURY HOSPITIAL giving birth to my sister, and while that was happening, her other 4 year old daughter my sister, was tragically drowned ,on the same day, how would you get over that my mother never did or has ,she is now 101 years old November 2020 ,and just as strong.
That put me as the middle child so what you may say, it was the start of my being naughty, not learning ,not taking anything seriously I never ever had or did one piece of homework from school ever, i knew the teachers just left me alone, as they all knew what had happened and why would they bother my parents with little old [naughty [ me] so has not to put any more pressure on my parents there never was any mention of my being not good at learning I just learned just the same as the other no-hopers ,as we were all in the B stream, should have been a river, because we all splashed and kept coming up for air to be knocked back again ,maybe because there were 38 children in a class ,we had no idea how far be-hind we were of the A stream all the same age as us.
I had a Butchers boys round that included Monday lunch time going around my round to collect orders for the weeks meat that the customers wanted after collecting the orders I would rush home have my dinner then back to school ,I could never wait to get out of school we came out at 4 pm then straight on to the other part of my round to get the other or-ders in another part of the village, I would be done by 5-30 take the or-ders back to the butchers shop and read them out for the owners be-cause my writing was not the best buy I could understand it .
The owners of the shop would be able to get the meat ready for the Tuesday morning delivery ,from 7.30am my mother would make sure I was up and had breakfast we would deliver before school after school every day, it was a full on job but we never took no notice if there were no orders to take after school we would be given a very sharp boning knife to cut the meat off the pigs head ,or the heads of cattle ,not lambs as they were too small to bone that meat would be used as mince also we would have to take all the bones and off cuts of fat down to the slaughter house and put them in a corner by the end of the week they were humming and full of maggots, a lorry would come and take them away we would then have to use hot water and scrub all the mess left behind with long handled brush.
1 or 2 mornings a week I would be pushing to get in for 9 oclock for school but they never said anything to me.
As a left “handed writer”, with wet ink and pen, i used to rub out what i had done so it looked like a snail had followed my pen there was no way lefties would have writing like they do today like my son does by holding the pen between the fingers in a different way.
My school reports Victor is good at outside work ,[we had Gardening as a lesson], and sport, however he cannot concentrate, his behavior in class is good most times, but is easy led astray. Most years my report would say about the same more effort needed.
There were 38children in our class i was in the B stream for all subjects except sport well that is my excuse.
The reason for me not being academic i have no idea however i think i did as well or better than most once i had left the school so you will have to be the judges of that…
We always went on a summer Holiday down to a place in Sussex called MARK CROSS near Rotherfield NR Turnbridge wells, my mothers family have always been small holders, also their own quarry before they set-tled previous they moved around a lot from Kent to Sussex when my mother was young ,my mothers parents have another story to tell.
Too much for me to go in to now, however my mother and her sister are true born cockneys, as they were born in the Chelsea barracks by bow bells, their father was in the Grenadier guards during the world war one
If i had been seen doing wrong anywhere and mother found out look out i would get it first, then ask after just to make sure ,i am not saying i was beaten but i got the clips and whacks when she deemed necessary just to be a good lad. times i can laugh now, she would be holding my arm. and flicking the cane and i would be doing circles around the room that stopped when I started the butchers round however the cane stayed in its place I could not relax even when I was 14/15 until I left school
She will say to this day that i only got what others did and no more ? I did not know of any other boy who got a clip at home i was the only boy dur-ing “school holidays” that had to stay in and wash up every dinner time before i could go out all my friends would be outside on the wall or kick-ing the ball waiting for me, as we all had our main meal at 12.30 when dad and Arthur my brother, got home for dinner woe -betide if i was late .
They would go back to work in the ENGINE SHEDS where dad was Forman fitter and Arthur my brother was a fitter how that worked I do not know, but my dad was a very gentle kind man always dressed smart not a boozer, he used to put a shoe press in his shoes to keep sharp always wore a trilby hat when out never ever carried a shopping bag let alone go shopping ,looked after us very well never laid a hand on me /or us ev-er…mum was the disciplinarian well for me. But I understand why after what had happened to them both…
Living in a village i had a very good childhood, lots of areas to play sport or go over the fields, or to the allotments ,where nearly all the men had their small plots of land growing all kinds of vegetables and fruit and tak-ing what you wanted ,called scrumping stealing [ not your own dads] also never daring to go near the railways ,tracks the village was the largest railway marshalling yards on the whole of the L.N.E.R. marshalling means where goods trains, going north or south would stop and drop off the wagons and collect wagons to go back to where they come from .”wagons” means rail cars ,cargo carriers, like lorries on tracks ,the first modern day HUBS they use now nothing new.
I always wanted i bike well my mums idea was if you want one bad enough you will work for money to buy it, but you could not work until you were 14 years old then it was legal that is what I did
The options were paper round ,grocers’ boy , or butchers boy, you knew the boys [girls were not allowed] that were already working that years difference in age made a lot of difference you were still a little runt at 14 but at 15 you had progressed in to start of work ethic i had been a full time smoker for a year, 16 was the legal age, but every one smoked [ex-cept my mum and dad] so i never realized that I smelled of cigarettes smoke every time i went home ,and i would profusely deny it to even when the old cane came a swishing i never did learn.
I had friends that could read music they played the piano ,i had no idea that to read music, you had to be good at English to be able to convert the music, from the paper, and in to your head then in to your fingers.
The Alphabet was important ,no one told me, it just thought it looked so good and easy anyone could do it just by listening to a tune, or so i though, another pointer was some of my friends used to have the comics hardly any pictures all reading stories ,I was different all pictures for me and little reading that was another pointer but no one picked it up not even me.
After pestering mum and dad that i wanted to learn the piano, promising that i would do all the practice, that it was easy,.
The butchers round consisted of 2 rounds around the village, and the shop owners only had one proper butchers boys bike with the big basket carrier on the small front tire the type you see they are nostalgic unless you had to ride one,that had been given to the other new lad a friend of mine he got in first i needed a bike, no money no bike or no job…
I promised my mum and dad that i would do both jobs, and the piano les-sons and practice, if they would buy me a bike .
Mum and dad said yes, however mother made sure that i would keep my word, the cane was still there, and it got used even when i was 14 true if i got my knees dirty i would have to put my leg up in to the kitchen sink and she would scrub my knees with the house hold scrubbing brush, so my old knees were tough but well scrubbed because i still wore short trousers for school like a lot of the others.
I had a second hand bike with straight handle bars just right for riding, one handed ,and have a basket full of meat orders on your arm ,in rain ,wind or snow the meat orders were wrapped not fully wrapped just laid in greaseproof paper and laid in the basket the last to be delivered on the bottom and so on, with a cloth over the top and that was the way meat was delivered to house I remember falling over once and managed to clean the meat up that came out of the basket, with the cloth on top and delivered the meat ,there was a paper label on each order sometimes it would get bloody and sometimes people would get the wrong order,I wonder how.
All Butchers have Monday afternoons off the shop shut that is the time most of the killing of the animals is done, down at their little abattoir i used to rush down there once out of school just to help, we would help scrape the pig hair of the dead pigs that would be put in a massive wooden tub with scalding water and we would scrape it off with a old tea pot lid [metal] or a blunt knife, then help clean all the muck and gore up a the guts put into sacks, all the meat would be taken cut up into half car-casses to the shop fridge.
We were not allowed there when the animals were shot but stood outside if we were in time as the animals had to be kept calm ,with people around they would be restless and in a small place could be dangerous if they kicked off.
i could go more in depth about the whole process as i learnt in a year but i will not, however i would now still be able to slaughter a sheep, and skin and dress it it i
A fascinating tale, Vic, and a world away from my own upbringing, but one phrase of yours did strike a chord with me
I had a second hand bike with straight handle bars just right for riding, one handed ,and have a basket full of meat orders on your arm ,in rain ,wind or snow the meat orders were wrapped not fully wrapped just laid in greaseproof paper and laid in the basket the last to be delivered on the bottom and so on, with a cloth over the top and that was the way meat was delivered to house I remember falling over once and managed to clean the meat up that came out of the basket, with the cloth on top and delivered the meat ,there was a paper label on each order sometimes it would get bloody and sometimes people would get the wrong order,I wonder how.
At boarding school for almost all of my secondary education, I was granted day boy status for the last term and was very keen to start earning money. I too got a job with a butcher but I had a company bike (there’s posh), a proper one with a great big basket holder on the front. Riding along one day, looking at the world I decided to sit back, lifting my hands from the bars (there’s cool) I thought I was the bees’ knees until, that is, the bike started to go off course. I made a grab to regain control but instead of the handlebars I grabbed the carrier. I did not realise that that was part of the frame and unconnected to the bars so the result was inevitable, a loud crash with unwrapped joints rolling in the gravel. Not all of the blood was from the meat either. However, King of Cool, I picked myself up and nonchalantly collected all the meat, picking out the grit before re-wrapping and re-loading them. If anybody saw me, nobody said anything and nobody complained about the state of their Sunday roast either. The holes in my trousers and knees were soon repaired back at home, but I decided there must be better ways of earning pocket money.
Thank you Spardo, there was a proper bike like you had with a small front wheel and not the best to control however the old lad had that.
To anyone reading im sorry for the closeness of the writing i did use breaks however i am copying and pasting from my WORD files .
i do realise it is not truck related ,or a tale, it is true ,why am i posting this,? well ,i originally wrote it down for my children and grandchildren .i have limited other interests so i thought why not if it connects with other drivers backgrounds .
you were not own your own.
Once dinner time came round from school, on the alternate days, i would have to go and collect orders at dinner time except Monday rush home get my dinner and make it back to school [no washing up on school days] also i would have to drop the order book off at the shop for the meat orders to be ready for 4.15 that day. then it would be at least 5.30 before you had finished and got home, “then music practice “,then paper round at 6.20 pm when the bus arrived From Northampton with the evening paper .
Saturdays they had a sports paper also “THE GREEN ONE” my round was around the old village ,i used to call into my grans to get the cigarette dog –ends , ■■■■] cigarettes she never finished she would save them for me. Well i was 14 it seemed normal ,if my mum had found out there would have been trouble.
she never did also i was earning 14shillings a week from the butchers round and about 6 shillings a week for the paper round but i had to hand it over to my mum, and she would give me some back, but keep the rest for the bike and savings ,but i did not know it at the time it was normal most kids gave the money to the mums…
How i used to bike around with the basket full of meat i do not remember by the time the orders on the bottom of the basked had been squashed as they were laid in house sequence no matter what size of order, sometimes the labels would come off as they were only placed on the meat ,if you had 2 lots of mince on ¾ of a pound =1/2kg and one more weight =1kg as that was the amount people would order in old terms it went like this =1/4 lbd,1/2 lbd 3/4lbd 1 lbd. = 1lbd now days =1kilogrm so it was small amounts but back then that what people would buy so if you got the wrong meat with the wrong lable they would soon tell you most people were living by habits, the same meals every day of every week so i got to know what was what,
in the end and Saturday was the big one as people had joints of meat=, like a fillet of leg of lamb .or a leg of lamb, or top fillet of leg pork, ,or the bottom leg of pork ,lamb, the beef was the tricky one ,topside, silverside sirloin ,rump, steak ,fillet steak ,chuck steak, braising steak ,t bone steak, flank, stewing beef, shin of beef, mince n beef suet for cooking making dumplings big bones for dogs.,i still remember that from back then but i had a job to recite the alphabet.
Some time you would have to go back to the shop 2 times to collect all the orders and deliver them still wearing shorts even in the rain and snow. but the main event was that they sometimes paid you the money because if they did not go to the village to shop you would take the money for them and if you had not started with any change as the shop never gave you a cash float ,and they did not have the correct money they would trust you to bring the change back the next time you went to their house or on your way home
Most people would give you a tip on Saturdays so that was the day not to be sick it could be 6 pence or a shilling tip that was ok, by the time i had finished i never knew who had given me what money and if it was wet all the paper labels with their weekly bill would be smudged so at the end of the day i knew who had paid me but the change was never right so he shop used to wait until the following Wednesday of the following week, and if any one had not come in to ask and say they never had their change i would get it as tips… so i had always got a shilling or two for chocolate and ■■■■, my mother never knew…
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I did get into trouble a few times like walking over the grass instead of the path of people’s houses, and nipping over the fences instead of going round, some would leave notes as where to leave the meat ,ie on a plate in the conservatory ,in a saucepan at the back door and put a brick on it. sometimes i have left the meat outside on a window sill ,if i could not make them hear as i was always pushing the clock for school time my very best ■■■■ up was, at a house the furthest away from school, i could not get any reply, so this is the gods truth, the only place open was the outside toilet [every house had one back then] so i left the meat on the toilet seat and left the bill /note on their back door and drew a black mark ,arrow pointing to the toilet door, they never got rid of me but i never went there again and the best bit about that was my auntie and uncle lived next door to us and it was one of their relations .
Also being 14 years old coming on 15 the sap was just starting to rise, and a interest in the female anatomy was creeping to the front so busts [breasts]were getting to be the talk of the day between all us delivery boys and the odd bravado was creeping in on what you had seen and who had massive ■■■■, and what dress you had looked down and seen a strap or cleavage ,now back then that was mega. A bra strap wow so between us butchers boys we had a competition who has seen what ! i worked out, when you went to the back or front door, the basket was always heavy you would hold it up high so the person could reach in and get their meat out i decided to stop that and leave the basket resting on one knee on the door step while the other leg was back on the pavement, so the lady had to bend down to reach in ,it worked. You would be surprised what a saw and they never knew or did some of them? I knew it did me good.
IF it got quite in the shop or with few delivery orders we would be given a thin boning knife to get all the meat off of the cows heads especially the meat from the cheeks the pigs that meat was used for sausages, sheep’s heads were normal split in half and people would cook them . sometime i would take the odd eyeball to school and leave it somewhere but that soon got stopped as they guessed it was me, but it was funny seeing half grown girls screaming.
After a time things were getting too much for me to work and learn. The piano teacher whose lessons were for one hour, knew mum and dad well, he eventually told them that it was a waste of their money and his time as i was never going to be able to play the piano, he said i was not musicale. if he told the truth he knew i was not capable. however that did not stop my mother at times when I was trying to practice she would be in the kitchen listening to me plink, and plonk on the piano trying to play the tune “DAISY GIVE ME YOUR ANSWER DO” it was a old fashioned tune the first you should be able to learn she knew it and when i went wrong she would tap my fingers with a ruler that made it worse for me i think that was the start of my mini rebellion, and the best of it my mother could not read much at all books as well as music…
As for reading books ,i cannot remember any title at all that sticks in my mind ,none of the classics at all, i had annuals for Christmas but if there were not pictures involved they were not for me, the same went for board games do not remember playing much at all ,i have heard different people say they played cards ,dominoes jig saw puzzles all together, we did not, we would listen to the radio at dinner time, workers playtime, but as for Music or other regular programs ,no”! not at all, to be honest i was not allowed anywhere near the radio ,i never listened to radio Luxembourg ever i had never heard of it ,and all the people my age were supposed to have been brought up on it??
We were the first family to get a television in the whole street in 1963 ,we all sat around as if it was a cinema, no comfy chairs ,they were in the best room the front room that no one hardly went in there were the settee and chairs ,china cabinet ,spotless every where in fact it was like a palace clean and tidy all over.
Even to this day April 2016 my mother still has furniture she and dad brought from Banbury in 1939 well dad was very good with money.
When it was the present queens coronation 1963 our living room was jammed packed with neighbors, chairs all in a semicircular like a film show i remember some our neighbors who sat around the television my mother gave my strict warning not to stare at a person’s” bald head” who would be sat down we had never seen him without a hat on outside, to me that would have been a source of amusement.
The talk of work never used to come up much as i wanted to go in to the “Royal Navy” some of the village boys before me had , my butcher boy friend and colleague he had passed the entrance exam and was going in, i did not realize that most of the boys who passed were all A class students so well above me, around the same age as me they went to Northampton recruiting office ,aged 14 and a half years old.
No one ever said, while in school that the A stream classes were that much brighter in class work all the same age group as us in B stream where maybe a year + ahead of us in all lessons and that we were all getting taught different, i do understand that, but in my mind, i just thought they made two streams and that we were all the same as a lot of my friends were A but there was never any talk about class work between any of us, we would all do P.Es together and sport.
So me in my own little world thought just because my Friend had passed it was only a matter just for me to turn up do the exam and i would be in that is how naïve i was, and no one told me any different .
To be honest i had no idea at all of what branch i would have like to have gone in, even the Navy booklets looked a bit high education standard for me ,however i wrote away to the office and wanted to join so I ticked seaman branch,[no idea what they did i had never seen a ship yet.
A date and time arrived ,I was fourteen and a half i traveled on my own , to Northampton on the one and only bus .most people on the bus were from the village, at least i had “long trousers “on, a white shirt and tie clean shoes i thought that would be enough.
I do remember arriving at the office of recruitment i was looked after and then taken into a room on my own, with a petty officer and told about the tests i was to do all explained, i started, well to be honest i do not remember much, but that i could not do hardly any questions at all and i think the man in charge noticed that i could not get on with the questions at all but he let me carry on to my best ability.
He asked me if i had finished i said yes i went out and they gave me a tea, and about 10 mins later he came out, and said that he was sorry i that i had not reached the required standard he told me to study math’s, and English, and come back next year ,they were impressed in the” work” i was doing while at school and said maybe i should stop working and concentrate on learning.
He did give me a booklet about the Merchant Navy, and said that maybe more in my line…little did he know OR I
I cannot remember how i felt
contiued
I cannot remember how i felt disappointed no doubt on the bus coming home what to i tell my mum i think i was more worried about what she would be like than anything else NOW IS THE TIME TO SAY I WAS HOURS AWAY FROM LEARNING ONE OF LIFES BEST LESSONS.
Once home to my surprise was my mothers sister my Aunt Dorothy [bossy boots] i could write a whole manuscript about her life but will not .[yet]
She was not the worlds best at children’s tolerance to be honest she was not the best when males are concerned ,[it turned out years later the she was a Lesbian] no surprises there ,however back then she was a very strong women i will leave it at that, as she did leave all us children a inheritance we never expected .but back them she was tartar.
I was so surprised to see her and of course in her very loud voice she said !”how did you get on” even before hello, well like a prize idiot ,silly bugger me ,i said that i had failed on a few spelling mistakes why i said that i do not know but to late it was the biggest lie i have ever told and it is now going to expose me…
Not a word from mum, or dad Dorothy ex Army took over, what she was not going to do was no ones business, speak to this person, ring the recruitment office up, dammed disgrace, she went on and on and in the end i must have burst in to tears, it was then that mum and dad realized it was all lies and that I could not do a lot of the questions and it was dropped not another word was said ,however i think mum and dad were disappointed not for failing but for telling a lie.
Once I had got over that some of my other school friends were going to the Army Cadets at Banbury they had to catch a train at 4 .30 pm they told me it was good and i would like it etc however my Butchers and paper round would not allow me to join them.
Back at School the teachers wanted to know how it went at Northampton , another big porky came out , it was just spelling mistakes that is all, so that was accepted no extra tuition was ever forthcoming, they knew before i went that i was not up to the standard so that all drifted away and i soon got back in to the swing of things “work” more than school .
We used to have cross country once a week and as living in the country it was hilly and when wet, and muddy, at the near finish of the run we used to have to go across a river NOT USING THE BRIDGE [the Cherwell] to get back on track to school you would be muddy ,soaking wet ,no facility to wash, only basins in the toilets, so that was you muddy ,and wet, and expect to concentrate .not the best it was the same with football but that would be the last lessons of the day, so you went home wet and muddy, all except us butchers boys we had to go and do our rounds that was our choice.
I did have a slight destructive element within me i do not know if it was jalousie of other boys work or just plain destructive but if i could not get things correct in woodwork, and any of the boys would be messing about with me, it would not be long before i would go and mess their work up by a chisel ,or saw, but it cured anyone name calling i could not explain why ,but it taught them a lesson, and i was in trouble however, i never got the cane and my mum never knew.
I used to delivered the meat to the head master and his wife they had a son the same age as me who went to Grammar school [Brackley] as did a lot of lads my age, but we never mixed after primary classes ,just a old them and us .why that existed who knows but it was common in most villages
When i first inherited the butchers round the 2 weeks before i took over i followed the lad who was leaving [they call it shadowing now] and I did.
I was enjoying football and i used to play against the older boys when i first went to the school however now i was in the last class coming up for 15 years of age, you wanted to be in the village teams cricket, and football ,being the school never had inter school matches [football] i could never stay after school, to train for the villages younger team, as it was the butchers round first also at cricket i was a good left handed bowler and bat , and left footed at football.
I never did play for the village, at any sport, all though some of my friends did and they were good as you will find out later.
The time had come for me and all the others to try to plan what they and me were going to work at…
The main employers was a RUGBY a 30 minutes train ride most of the work was engineering factories for manufacturing
Most of the work within the local area was at Daventry there were a lot of engineering factories however no bus service
Banbury was10 miles away a 30 minutes train ride no bus service for early workers to use you had to have a car or a motor bike or having a lift with a car driver
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The local Railway employed the majority of the village men the village I lived in at that time was the biggest marshaling yards[NOW CALLED HUBS] on the whole of the LNER REGION some ladies had railway jobs however very few married women worked. where the younger girls went to I do not know there were no factory units in the village.
I cannot remember how my last months before leaving school went but there was no pressure on me to get a apprenticeship i think they knew, my mum, always down to earth, said if you want to go on the farm that is what you will do and i did ,do not forget we were 15 years old and making decisions for the so called rest of you life’s work, especially the lads doing apprentices .
After failing the ROYAL NAVY i wanted to go into the ARMY cadet force however my early work commitment butchers round ,paper round I was unable to join the boys Army cadet force that was based in Banbury as the train left at 4.30 pm after school as I had the butchers round I was unable to go four of my friends went to the Army cadets and one followed on to join full time.
The dreaded NATIONAL SERVICE was still place for all males 18 years of age had to do 2 years in the military, mainly the army the brighter ones went in to the R.A.F. very few were taken in to the royal navy, all though my brother had a apprenticeship his joining up got deferred until his apprenticeship time was finished at 21 years old, however before that came in national service was stopped i think 1960 around then.
Some of my school friends managed to get jobs they wanted on the railway as engine cleaners and hopefully progress to fireman on the footplate,[shoveling the coal in to the engine]to create steam to propel the engine,] train drivers apprentices
One or two on the railway station as porters, some in the goods yard ,numerous different railway jobs ,mainly for life…my dad having spent his life on the railway also my brother as well, they did not encourage me to join the railway at all even as a apprentice fitter. as my brother and dad had been at one time
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It was the farm for me… As we are surrounded by fields and farms you would think it would be easy but that was not the case, school friends already lived on farms so they had no problem i ended up that i had to go up to a village 3 miles away called Red House Farm ,Preston Capes the owners farther lived in the village and dad knew him but it was a bike ride every day.
Down or up to the farm it was, get a rucksack, clothes = dads old boiler suites taken in as i did not have any long trousers for working gear in fact i only had 2 pairs of trousers one suit, and one grey flannels, for going out in, a old jacket from my uncle a bit big, i do not remember much, but there was not a lot of expense.
Every day it was a flask of tea, a bottle of diluted squash and about half of a loaf of bread [sarnies]. I was one of 6 men, 4 from one family and the other was believe it or not, was the known school bully about 2 years older than me, he had a massive triumph motor bike a 650 cc he was big enough to handle it you could hear him coming roaring along the back lanes to work ,he turned out ok with me ,the young men older than him kept him in line .
The farm was a arable farm mostly wheat and barley lots of fields to be harvested, the corn was stored in the barns mostly in sacks with a stick down through the center of the sack to let air down in to the wheat .the sacks got there from a trailer that ran alongside the harvester, and men bagged the wheat up as they ran parallel ,the wheat came down a Shute in to sacks held by a man. who tied the top, and i had to line them up on the trailer in rows when it was full to the barn we would go i could see why they wanted another young worker it was dusty and hard .when all the was over, and the straw left from the harvester that had to baled up when dry my next job unheard of today came up it was called sledging bales ,and it is what the word said.
When you used to see a field full of straw bales, in a block of about eight me i never wondered how the got there, nowadays it is all by fork lift but back then it was muscle power and i found out how.
You have a tractor pulling a baling machine the machine scoops up the straw and pushes it in to square shaped and when it reaches a certain size a arm comes over it and ties it up with baling twine ie string and pushes it out of the machine to fall on to the land when you see the bales scattered all over the place it means there was just one man the tractor driver, and it just spewed anywhere when done but then comes in the Sledge ,
It is a series of20 foot long poles joined together by chain, and the front end are shaped by steel caps so they look like pikes sticks on top of the poles is two boards for me or others to stand on, so the action is[ this is gods honest truth] this contraption is chained to the back of the bailer, so when the bales come out of the shute my job was to catch to bale lift it up and take it to the back of the poles that i am standing on so it does not stop on the ground but that it is travelling with me on the poles.
Now do not forget this is very uneven ground you are trying to stand up ,the dust coming up is unbelievable ,and you are moving at whatever speed the tractor wants to go at once you have 8 bales together the driver is counting the bales by looking backwards and he slows nearly stops and pulling a small rope lifts the sledge and the bales slide off how it worked precisely i did not find out i was to busy keeping my balance and working loading the bales good job they were straw ,and not hay as straw is lighter.
Once that is done along comes another trailer and men are building the trailer up with the bales now it looks easy to carry a bale of straw with a pitch fork, but you try tossing a bale up from the floor to be held above you head and passed to the men on the trailer who are stacking them in to a square load the straw bales were not that bad but i struggled being only 15 i needed to get stronger and as for bales of hay , there was another story, it was called a knack of how to toss a bale up holding the pitch fork the correct way to get leverage.
Once that was all done and the fields were ploughed by a tractor and plough also they had a old traction engine that was started by a cartridge put in to the front of the engine with like a plug screwing it in and a large fly wheel on the side and it was hand cranked from the front end just like the old car starter handle, “yes i do remember them i used them myself all cars had one”
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Once the engine fired up by the turning of the handle it would start to fire up and belch out plumes of exhaust and blow out smoke rings , putpup t y put it would go until it found its own rhythm and it would be away ready for use that pulled the biggest plough the most harrows ,tines/ i was not allowed anywhere near the ploughing however i used to have to help them mark the fields out by walking so many paces along the hedge rows and when shouted to stop i would place a old fertilizer bag high up in the hedge so the plough man would use it as a marker ,so if you see a bag high in a hedge that is it…
And the tractor pulling the drill machine , with the seed, one of my first jobs was to be stand on the back of the platform of the seed drill being pulled along by one of the 5 Mc Cormack international tractors [red beasts] massive in size, metal /cast seat ,long steering column double foot pedals, i had no comprehension how powerfully they were, until i was much older and got into lorries.
From the top of the seed box that was like a coffin the whole length across made out of wood with the seed in bout my waist height ,i was stood on a platform that had about 20 disk type wheel that put the seed into the ground ,under where i was stood they were connected from the seed box with a metal type pipe
,
the seed dropped through that into a little feeder on the metal disk, in fact they were the flex pipe that pilots had from their face masks for oxygen, they were clipped at the top and the bottom was just placed in to the disk ,so my job was first try to stay on, because you were being pulled across stony ground, two, you were getting covered in dust , every time the disk hit a stone it would lift up and spit the hose /pipe out all the time and my job was to push it back it because the seed had to be planted in rows, and if the pipe did not keep the seed flowing even, parts would be barren when the corn grew ,[that i did not know at the time]whoops thank god I had left before the corn was sprouting as they would see where the corn drill had not worked ,anyhow the tractor driver just kept going not bothered about me on the back hanging on for dear life and getting chocked with dust
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By the end of the day my hands were knocked about and grazed from the disk but thankfully i only had about a week of that as it was finished.
We did a lot of hedge cutting by hand they call them hedge splashers ,like a 6 foot pole ,like a fork handle, with a big crescent shaped sharp metal blade on the end, so i enjoyed that also a lot of hedge repair and gate and fence repair all dug by hand to this very day two gate post we/i put in are still standing in the field by the road ,when we were digging i had to keep getting in the hole to dig the stones and muck out ,as the spades and shovels were not long enough when it came up to my shoulders that was deep enough, we used old railway track sleepers normally but these were called crossing sleepers as they were longer than the normal ones. and yes still there from 1959…until 2017.its now 2023 and they are still there…
My farm Saturday mornings jobs, was part of the working week, i was to clean all the tractors big old red CORMACK INTERNATINIOL with paraffin and petrol mixed rags , i used to stink when i got home. After about 4 months i was getting fed up with the ■■■■ work always as black as a crow basically farming was not my favorite job , i did like the general maintenance and they did all the work themselves and i did learn about engines how they work , if there were animals to look after , it would have been better i did learn a lot of other things ,like if there was a ■■■■ job give it to the youngest.
One of the things i remember was the farmer had some connection to a person who worked for the AMERICANS at the base at AIRFORCE Upper Heyford ,
A cattle truck arrived at the farm, i had not seen one before close up and it looked massive ,and it was empty, it had to come to pick one of the men up and suprise me in complete bewilderment i was told to get my sandwich bag and get it the cab, and i sat on the engine cover it was like a Cheshire cat ,obliviously i have never forgot it in all my life experiences that about topped it .15 and riding in the cab of the massive lorry unbeknown to me that must have been the start of my journey …
We were going to collect and load up the ramp, a full load of timber ,plywood benches ,all types of storage furniture all painted GREY we were there all day i do not remember seeing anything else but the yard full of this wooden furniture now i realized it was all scrap to someone but not to the farmer ,all day we were there once when loaded off we go to get home it was now 7pm i knew mum would wonder where i was ,but she knew sometimes you work late when needed on the farm.
We turned out on to the main road and we went about 5 mins and the stopped the [a cattle truck lorry], doors opened out the driver and Charlie jumped out and they said to me come on we walked in to a pub now it was the very first time ever in my life i went in to a pub after the times I used to look through the hatch way with my gran and wonder what was inside
I can remember i sat down and the next thing i had a pint in front of me, it was shandy of course, that must have been my start to loving beer as i have never forgotten it .
The pub is still there to this day THE FOX at ARDLEY right by the junction of the m40.
As anyone who lived near or on a farm knows there are always jobs to be done as the seasons move around all different equipment is used and my job was to learn where to grease the grease points and keep them clean i used to wonder why keep a tractor clean and it is in the mud and dirt [earth] who is going to see them learned later on it was to get a pride in your work, it sort of worked with me but not a 100%.
Working on the Saturday morning was not to my liking so i told my mum i wanted to leave and go elsewhere i was still thinking about going away to sea I would see the odd picture of ships in the paper or magazine but did not know what to do about it
Eventually i managed to get a job at a timber manufacturing firm called Overs timber a bus was provided and one of my school friends who was waiting to go in to the Army was working there i do not remember going for the actual job but i suppose i did it was situated in the middle of farm land surrounded by 3 lakes it was one of the very old mansion house it had castle type corners with turrets.
All the ground floor had wood working machines inside it was like a big modern whare house .but in a old house, all the old fire place, i never appreciated it back then but now it is a modern hotel and gym …
They were manufactures of all the type of “wooden” appliances a farmer used . in the fields and inside . Also boxes for a packing company, and not my favorite “creosoting” panel fencing, and all kinds of post and the job i had was ,in the “creosote pit”! and that what is was a massive bath of creosote ,every product was dipped ,for outside use.
The bath[pit] had 3 foot=1 meter high brick wall .square shaped 20x20feet in that pit was at least i foot deep of creosote we took it in turns one would pass the product in, the other would just hold it under the creosote, then lean it up against a frame on the side so as all the excess run off then the other lad would go round and we would lift all the products out and stack the wooden fences ,or posts on a concrete floor, so then the rest of the creosote would drip and drain off ,all we had were our own wellingtons boots and old pair of [oil skin leggings] over our trousers by the end of the day we stunk of creosote and we used to smoke as well while working .
For years after ,some of my pores on my legs, would still be impregnated with black pin head spots…Once the products had dried out over night after being stacked up outside it was our job to carry the fence panels, cattle feeding troughs, sheep troughs, all kinds of wooden products that had to be creosoted to make them last round to where they loaded the lorry of course, then i did not take no notice what so ever of the lorries and it was hard work, the products were stacked so high it looked like a battleship once finished.
I did notice the driver seemed to get a lot of attention from some of the ladies, [who should have known better] back then i never knew why??
Once another new lad started that got me off the creosote pit duty and work inside amongst all the girls and ladies from different villages around and a fair bit of teasing went on, my job was to keep certain saws supplied with wood, then take it away to a packing area where some men made up special packing cases.
It got very busy lots of sawing noise all the time there was a man called the saw doctor he sharpened all the saw blades as well as himself? and repaired most of the machines, he had a good job he moved around everywhere.
When a timber delivery came to the factory ,well it was a massive big hall with the most ornate fireplace you have ever seen it was marble with all kinds of bits stacked up on it, all the best [tongue and grove] white dry good timber it was passed through the lifted sash window and pulled in to the hall , and stacked neatly ,all work stopped when this was going on [safety even back then] myself and my school friend were the youngest there and he was waiting to go into the army .and i suspect i was envious off him as he got a lot of attention from the older girls by about 2/3 years older than us he was a cheeky lad, and went on to have a really good career
. We all smoked even in the big hall all the sawdust around ,that was another terrible job bagging up the sawdust from the silo, it was choking, but some one did it, all the time before i arrived ,and after i left… i think back now and i had a good grounding of doing as i was told, and to do ■■■■ jobs and get on with it ,it never lasted a live time.
Lunch time was quite exciting as we had full run of the place up in all the top rooms, through the attics, creeping along finding cubby holes, and the main one was watching the couples that were together, working there, all looking for a space to cuddle…it was all new to us, we knew what was supposed to go on between male and female but no one never told us .and i must admit we never saw anything to enhance our learning …
I did get to meet some older girls and i knew what i liked ?however nothing ever came of any of it i did meet other lads older than me from different villages and we all seemed the same, just pleased we had left school and working
One of the lads who was taller than me but ok we used to share ■■■■, but what we chatted about back then i have no idea if you have read my later on in life history then this is the lad/man who was the foreman in ■■■■■■■■ engine factory, he had grown in to a big of a bully type man. maybe he always was ,but he was ok with me
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Fawsley House had 3 fishing lakes and its own church and lots of farm land all managed by a Gentleman farmer name BUSH but the property belonged to a Lord GAGE i do remember seeing him once he wore this black rimed hat like priests wear, and like a cassock type coat and a cane, to us he was like posh, posh , we were kept out of the way … The house is now today a Health Centre and hotel ,i would like to go back in one day.
Time for my friend to leave and go in to the army, i do remember everyone had a collection for him and they gave him the coffee jar full of money ,i had never seen as much ,but he was one of eleven children so the old boy had had it a bit hard he deserved it… to this day i do not know why i never went to the recruiting office and tried join up i expect it was my earlier experience at the R.N. and my education had not improved at all so what i knew earlier was what i knew then ,not a lot…
I still do not remember how going away to sea came around but i think i always knew i wanted to travel and go away where I did not know although i new absolutely nothing about the Merchant Navy at all i had never seen a ship yet i do not remember where any influence came from somewhere, but i do not remember as i had not yet seen a ship ,also i had no idea what work they did, but i must have had the urge to go away and get away from the village, my mum always said i was impatient like a bull in a china shop [nothing to do with me being a [TAURUS].
A friend of my dad had a brother who was a chief steward at sea he got some information from him and the company he worked for was Blue Funnel line from Birkenhead it turned out he was a chief steward, however the next part i do not remember well i must have wrote a letter to the company saying what i do now , i got a reply back that i was to go for a interview at Birkenhead and my dad must be with me…still no idea what was what as for jobs, in fact they could have told me anything my dad was the same …
The day arrived we both had suits on mine was the one i got confirmed in, we caught the straight through train from BANBURY to BIRKENHEAD, it was the first time i had been on my own with my dad, also my first time going north ,even going to Birmingham and all the places the names were very strange, it was about a 3 hour journey, once at woodside station Birkenhead the end of the line ,we got out and went to the toilet and there in massive big letters was a notice saying VENERAL CLINIC of course i had never heard of it and my dad rather embarrassed said you will get taught all about it ,and left it at that.
A taxi took us to ODESSY WORKS it was their main office and yard it was so exciting and we were passing massive ships in the docks with dad o don’t think my dad had seen ships as close we arrived through these massive wrought iron gates it was a entrance to a large industrial area all kinds of activities going on ,we were dropped outside the office .
A receptionist asked are we here to see Mr GRENWOOD dad said yes we were invited to a office to meet a MR GREENWOOD.
My mind is a blank whatever was spoken about I have no recollection
First I had to have a medical if you did not pass there was no point in going any further also a through eye test especial for color blindness I had never had a eye test or
medicial.
There is an extreme weather warning for the whole of Manitoba today, minus 29 degrees C, windchill minus 40. I shouldn’t really be here, most Winters are spent in warmer climes but this Winter’s trip only lasted three months and I’m back in the freezer. It will be May before all the snow melts, so plenty of time to think of the driving I did in Canadian Winters past. This is a trip from March 2010 that I have pulled from my diary.
___DAY 1: It’s a month since I was south of the border and I need a new I94 to get into the US. Not a visa but a visa waiver, a green card that lasts 90 days, costs $6 and needs all my personal details plus photograph and fingerprints. Everything, in fact, that you give to get a visa and a diplomatic triumph for Tony Blair in the aftermath of 9/11. It doesn’t take long at Pembina North Dakota and I’m soon on familiar roads down to Junction 88 on the Interstate 94 for a night at Moe’s Almost World Famous Diner, Osseo, Wisconsin.
___DAY 2: Light Sunday traffic through the vast Chicago sprawl and onto Ohio, destination: Holiday City, first exit off the Ohio Turnpike toll road. Google maps was still showing Menards new distribution centre as a ploughed field but it had its own access road and truck park, where plenty of Mondays deliveries were already lined up waiting to go in. Le Mans style starting grid.
____DAY 3: Once in the vast compound, I found I was the only truck with trellis to unload, by the time I had untarped a forklift was ready to unload into the Lattice Shed. Reload was 500 kilometres due south at Nicholasville, Kentucky, 8 o’clock Tuesday morning. An easy days drive with a siesta at Dayton and a completely unnecessary shower south of Cincinnati, the third in three days. Towards Lexington, Kentucky, barbed wire gives way to post and rail fences, Thorough-Bred mares and foals out in the paddocks, Kentucky’s Bloodstock Industry.
____DAY 4: Ten flimsy crates containing wire-mesh filters are quickly loaded but take 11 straps to stop them wobbling. More than enough for only 7800 lbs. Westwards to Louisville, I come across signs for distilleries, Four Roses and Wild Turkey. Bourbon Whiskey, another industry of the Kentucky state and such a superior tipple to those bland blended brands of scotch whisky. Avoiding the evening traffic rush and the toll roads of Chicago, I stay to the south and take the Interstate 80 to Walcott, Iowa, home to the Worlds Largest Truckstop, Iowa 80.
____DAY 5: The truckstop is a magnet to many, the young cab-happy trucker stopping to pick-up the latest must-have accessory or some sad old soul having a book-title embroidered on a sweatshirt. I eat at the horseshoe shaped bar in the restaurant and you will be seated amongst some of the most loquacious characters working in the road transport industry, multi-million milers with show-trucks in the barn, high on caffeine and chrome. Listen to the ■■■■■■■■! But I cannot linger, it’s a 1000 kilometres to Fargo, ND.
____DAY 6: From Fargo to Esterhazy in Saskatchewan with my parts of a new machine due to be installed in the Mosaic Potash Plant. Potash, an ingredient in fertilizer, a major export of Saskatchewan and one well suited to rail road transportation. Vast quantities going to a limited number of destinations, CanPotEx trains are a familiar sight across the prairies and often seen crossing the Rocky Mountains.
____DAY 7: Unloaded in the morning and a reload arrives: an over-height load from Regina to Winnipeg; but I no-longer do over-dimensional loads due to payroll’s constant reluctance to pay the extra rate; so I decline to do it. There then follows a short exchange of messages via the satellite. Culminating with; “What part of the statement ’ I don’t do O/D loads’ do you not understand?” Some time later another reload arrives, a load from Meadow Lake to Elkhart, Indiana, 1609 miles. It’s four hundred miles across Saskatchewan but I have just enough time to get there, put in a 36 hour log reset and load on Sunday morning.
____DAY 8: Meadow Lake is an uninspiring place at the northern edge of the Prairies. Straddled around the junction of highways 55 and 8. If I had to live here it would only be because of a very beautiful woman who was very good in bed; even then she would need a father who owned a brewery.
____DAY 9: It’s a sad state of affairs when the road sign “Watch for Pedestrians” only brings my arrival at a First Nation settlement. Just east of Meadow Lake, on my way to my pick-up, I pass through “Flying Dust First Nation.” At Tolko, I load ten packs of OSB, 24x8 foot sheets of Oriented Strand Board. I take a left turn out of the OSB plant in a bid to cut a straight route south but after a few miles the blacktop gives way to dirt road. It`s bare and dry, and thankfully well groomed. Soon I’m in top gear, on the limiter, and enjoying the scenery of the Northern Provincial Forest, all 150 kilometres of it.
____DAY 10: From Weyburn, across the border and onto Sauk Centre in Minnesota with a DoT check at Carpio on Highway 52. Just the Level 3 paperwork check by two old guys who see the log reset and print-out a violation-free report worth $25 when I hand it in to Big Freight Systems.
____DAY 11: A long day of 1000 kilometres through to Elkhart. I should have done more yesterday. But I`m on the doorstep ready for morning.
____DAY 12: Now I know what the large size boards are for: the floors of travel-trailers and RVs. Elkhart is a major manufacturing area for RVs, it is even home to the RV Hall of Fame. The only famous RV I can think of is the pink Winnebago from the film “Smokey and the Bandit.” I dont know if its in there but I wouldn`t mind a ride in it if it was still working. My reload is from Groveport, Ohio, train-wheels back to Winnipeg, but then it changes. Take the wheels to the BFS yard in Mississauga, Ontario, and bring an empty trailer back to Groveport for another load, this time to go to Winnipeg. I load and make it up to Cleveland for the night.
____DAY 13: Its a 1400 kilometre round trip to get back for the second load and means I wont have enough log hours to get back to Steinbach for the weekend. I cross into Canada at Buffalo, New York, over water soon destined to go over Niagara Falls. I`m back over the same bridge less than 5 hours later, retracing my wheel tracks back to Sunbury for a night just north of Columbus, Ohio.
____DAY 14: Id never done a load of train wheels before, now I do two in 2 days. There is a special way of securing them, you dont leave the foundry without doing it there way. I was glad to be shown but I had to take my chains off at Mississauga, I hope the driver picking up that trailer knows what to do. Second load on and I set off in the hope of getting to Portage in Wisconsin, I will take an hours reset there and be just a days drive from home. But at a load check, one hour south of Rockford, Illinois, in an Interstate 39 Rest Area, I hear a bad air leak on the trailer. Back in the cab, the air pressure has dropped so much I cannot release the brakes, which is not good because today has been the first day this year I have seen rain and Ive parked the trailer over a puddle. I crawl under with a flashlight and find a brake-chamber leaking badly, the rubber diaphragm has split. Out of my toolbox, I take a pair vice-grips and clamp the rubber pipe leading to the brake-chamber stopping the airflow. After caging, the brake on that one wheel is now useless but Im able to get going again. I could probably get back to Canada with the clamp on the pipe but that would be a bit naughty. I decide to go the 30 miles up the road to the Petro Truckstop at Rochelle, it has workshops and they can have all tomorrow to fit a new brake-chamber. I should call the police and get an ■■■■■■ with flashing lights along the shoulder at 10 mph. But at 80000 lbs on six axles, I still have 11 good brakes which is one more than the normal five axle rig would have at the same weight. I go it alone.
____DAY 15: After a lie-in and a leisurely buffet breakfast, I take the truck round to the workshop. They have the part in stock and it takes an hour to fit. The rest of the day is spent on the internet, in the cab with no bunk heater needed in warm spring sunshine.
____DAY 16: Interstates 39 and 94 take up the whole day from Rochelle to Fargo. The only notable event is when I check the chains at a Rest Area near Alexandria, Minnesota. A driver working for Swifts from Phoenix, Arizona, comes over to chat about train wheels; it turns out he was in the USAF stationed for five years at Upper Heyford in Oxfordshire. Considering we are standing in the middle of Minnesota, there then followed a bizarre conversation about the A43 and the M40. He seemed like a good guy who does on the road training while driving team. Not many Americans know that Bicester rhymes with Sister.
____DAY 17: Back into Canada and unloaded at the Canadian Pacific workshops in Winnipeg. Then back to Steinbach and Kenworth T800’s turn for the workshop; six monthly safety check and service. Another hours reset for me and out again on Wednesday.
____Overall Distance:–11663 kilometres.
Hi CHRIS now that is a journey,i have no idea when you were in CANADA
i have lots of questions who you drove for ,how you got the job,why CANADA ,did you sub to a company,was the truck yours,how were the jobs paid to you,was it milage ,weight ,were you paid running empty,did you have fuel cards,did you pay for truck stops showers what was the legal running weight. did it change from CANADA TO AMERICA. i have seen the truck ques in to AMERICA ,
were all your deductions taken at source ie tax. were you unionised. how many hours could you drive in 6days what rest did you have to take, were there tachographs or manual log books,how many hours could you drive in 1day and 1 week,if it was restricted. were different states different laws on weight and hours,were the police hot on foreign drivers. thats about it for now .to be honest i have always wondered what the attraction for driving in CANADA was all about ,DENMARK was the place in the late 1990s i did a short stint there ,but got disillusioned harder than i was led to believe .so come home not the same distance as you…from mr nosey.dbp.
Phew! DBP. That is a lot questions. I came over to Canada in 2006 with a lot of other Brits. 2005 to 2008 were the halcyon years with Canadian companies recruiting at seminars in the UK. Big Freight were one of the major importers of UK drivers. Some returned quickly, some gave it a good shot and moved on and some are still here. All my work was flat-bed, tarps and straps and multi-drop more often than not; paid by the mile with 12,000 miles expected per month. With a maximum of 70 hours per week driving and 36 hours off between trips. I always liked to drive new roads every day so was quite happy doing long month long journeys. Although there was not any night-out money, there was an annual tax assessment where I usually got a $5000 rebate in lieu of nights spent in the truck.
I did five years on flatbed work before the arthritis cried “Enough.” Canadian Winters are brutal and it was only the trips into the southern states of the US that let me carry on so long with it. After that until I retired in 2018; it was all work with 53 foot dry-freight box trailers, confusingly known in North America as “Vans.” In all, I visited 49 USA states and all the Canadian provinces except Labrador. I went anywhere at any time until the last couple of years when I was on for Ruby Truckline who gave me a regular run from Winnipeg to Laredo, Texas, although by now log books had been phased out and electronic logs introduced which restricted a lot of freedom.
Most of the Brits that are still here are now owner operators although this didn’t appeal to me because of my age. If I had come over 20 years earlier I would have definably gone down that road. I don’t see much of my old workmates, although I still expect to bump into them at any given moment. I made a lot of friends when me and a buddy set up a rooming house for single drivers coming over from the UK. We had a six bedroom house and it was a good job that half the renters were away at any given time because there wasn’t a lot of parking plus most drivers soon hooked up with local females which swelled the vehicle count. All in all, you could make decent money in Canada but had to do long hours for it. Then of course, if you were always working, it wasn’t a good deal for a family man. Bringing a wife and kiddies to a new life in a freezing cold country and then disappearing for a couple of weeks can’t have been easy. For the single guy, it could be a good life, especially as internet dating made social contact so effortless. Any profile with the phrase “English gentleman, new to Canada” soon struck a rich seam of single and separated eager beavers.
Thank you all for the yarns and tales, keep it coming you blokes.
Chris this was the way we carried worn out wheels and axles from the BHP rail networks to the iron ore mines in northern west oz nowadays apparently its a big no no deemede unsafe i believe, rrrr well thank f… i dont work anymore in our overburdened with rules and regulations transport industry improved so much they can’t get drivers anymore when 20odd years ago it was the opposite impossible to get a job without experience.
Dig
In the '90s I moved from my native northside of Brisbane to west of the city, to manage a transport company. I had, for many years been a volunteer member of the State Emergency Service and transfered to my new local unit.
One afternoon, just as I was finishing up for the day, I got a callout. There was a major crash on the highway, between my location and the SES Group HQ. I was asked to assess the situation and get some traffic control happening.
Upon arrival I realised a truck with train wheels, as in Dig’s picture above, had rolled onto a small sedan. The ambulance was already on site, so I proceeded to direct traffic, hoping to give the most expedient path to the many more emergency services that would be needed.
The truck, a B model Mack was doing a westbound dog run to Toowoomba, final destination Townsville. The car was leaving a service area, on the eastbound side of the divided road. The central reservation was 30’~40’ wide. As the car re-entererd the carriageway, the driver misjudged the position of the truck, pulling directly into its path resulting in the prime mover mounting the small car, ending with the truck laying on its right side with the car crushed under the trailer and load. The load remained secured to the trailer.
In my years as an owner/driver I regularly backloaded crushed cars from North Queensland, becoming quite adept at identifying cars, even when they were barely a foot high. The only way I could identify this car as a Datsun was from the colour.
The first ambos on scene bravely dug and crawled to the car to check on the occupant/s. It was obvious to me that anyone in the car was no longer of this world. The only question was, how many dead.
The ambo reached an elderly woman, at arms length and detected a pulse. He said “Hang on love, we’ll get you out of here and give you a cup of tea.” The reply came from an equally elderly gent on the other side of the car “Not without me, you wont!”
It took hours to extract the couple, but miraculously they both survived. Their son, who was older than me, threw a barbecue a couple of months later, to thank all the emergency responders who helped that day.
Some great stories there from all of you but this little bit reminded me of an incident in my Mk.1 Atki the day I started with Bulkliners back in 1900 and frozen to death.
Chris Arbon:
A driver working for Swifts from Phoenix, Arizona, comes over to chat about train wheels; it turns out he was in the USAF stationed for five years at Upper Heyford in Oxfordshire. Considering we are standing in the middle of Minnesota, there then followed a bizarre conversation about the A43 and the M40. He seemed like a good guy who does on the road training while driving team. Not many Americans know that Bicester rhymes with Sister.
I wonder if I met that bloke. 
Three of us with 40 foot containers set off from Nottingham for Southampton and I was last in the line. Travelling along that road past Upper Heyford I was slowed down by a little Ford Prefect van dawdling along and weaving a bit in the road. Nothing I could do but remain patient but then on a straight bit the chance came for me to get past so I pulled out and as I did so the little van indicated left and pulled over to stop. That made it much easier I thought and started to pass. At the last minute it suddenly speeded up and pulled back into my path, he had obviouly just seen the sign to the right for the turning for the base. I was helpless to do anything but swerve right and brake hard. The van was turned sideways by the impact and all I could see below my windscreen was the roof bobbing up and down as I pushed his tyres sideways to the far side verge.
I got out to find 2 very shaken Yank airmen climbing from the passenger door, the side of the van just behind the driver’s door was skewerd by the end of that solid crash bar bolted to the chassis of those Atkis. Anyway the base police were first on the scene, they gave a very hard time to the 2 airmen while being very solicitous for my own health, I suppose they have a strict policy not to upset the natives. A short time later a British police car arrived and their attitude was exactly the opposite, very hostile towards me. We decided that I should reverse to liberate the van when all of a sudden a shout went up and everybody was racing for the hills.The American driver, still shocked and trembling, was seeking to calm himelf with a ■■■, only trouble was he was standing right next to the open petrol filler pipe left when my crash bar ripped the cap off. 
All was eventually sorted, the van was towed away and the local police said they wanted to take a statement from me but in a layby just down the road to clear the traffic tailback. I followed them down, they still with their blue lights flashing and I noticed that, as the copper was writing, that they were getting a little dimmer and slower.
Anyway, job done, ‘on your way drive, I’ll just get our car out of your path and you can go’. He got behind the wheel and the bloody battery was flat, never even turned the engine over once. I offered to give him a shove with my crash bar but he wasn’t having that ‘I saw what you did to that van’. In the end his mate and I gave him a shove and he bump started it, loaded the offsider and disappeared.
Apart from the delay I was chuckling all the way to Soton.
Spardo:
Some great stories there from all of you but this little bit reminded me of an incident in my Mk.1 Atki the day I started with Bulkliners back in 1900 and frozen to death.Chris Arbon:
A driver working for Swifts from Phoenix, Arizona, comes over to chat about train wheels; it turns out he was in the USAF stationed for five years at Upper Heyford in Oxfordshire. Considering we are standing in the middle of Minnesota, there then followed a bizarre conversation about the A43 and the M40. He seemed like a good guy who does on the road training while driving team. Not many Americans know that Bicester rhymes with Sister.I wonder if I met that bloke.
Three of us with 40 foot containers set off from Nottingham for Southampton and I was last in the line. Travelling along that road past Upper Heyford I was slowed down by a little Ford Prefect van dawdling along and weaving a bit in the road. Nothing I could do but remain patient but then on a straight bit the chance came for me to get past so I pulled out and as I did so the little van indicated left and pulled over to stop. That made it much easier I thought and started to pass. At the last minute it suddenly speeded up and pulled back into my path, he had obviouly just seen the sign to the right for the turning for the base. I was helpless to do anything but swerve right and brake hard. The van was turned sideways by the impact and all I could see below my windscreen was the roof bobbing up and down as I pushed his tyres sideways to the far side verge.I got out to find 2 very shaken Yank airmen climbing from the passenger door, the side of the van just behind the driver’s door was skewerd by the end of that solid crash bar bolted to the chassis of those Atkis. Anyway the base police were first on the scene, they gave a very hard time to the 2 airmen while being very solicitous for my own health, I suppose they have a strict policy not to upset the natives. A short time later a British police car arrived and their attitude was exactly the opposite, very hostile towards me. We decided that I should reverse to liberate the van when all of a sudden a shout went up and everybody was racing for the hills.The American driver, still shocked and trembling, was seeking to calm himelf with a ■■■, only trouble was he was standing right next to the open petrol filler pipe left when my crash bar ripped the cap off.
All was eventually sorted, the van was towed away and the local police said they wanted to take a statement from me but in a layby just down the road to clear the traffic tailback. I followed them down, they still with their blue lights flashing and I noticed that, as the copper was writing, that they were getting a little dimmer and slower.
Anyway, job done, ‘on your way drive, I’ll just get our car out of your path and you can go’. He got behind the wheel and the bloody battery was flat, never even turned the engine over once.
Apart from the delay I was chuckling all the way to Soton.
Wow David, I didn’t know containerisation was around that long ago.
Star down under.:
Wow David, I didn’t know containerisation was around that long ago.
You youngsters, can’t tell you anything. 