by P J Shannon
My 50 Years as a Southern Railwayman
by P. J. Shannon
Copyright © P. J. Shannon 2013
ISBN 978-0-9575950-2-6
Thank you to all my friends and colleagues who
helped me with memories and facts.
Table of Contents
Farewell to Ireland
First Impressions of Southern
Early Days at Ascot
Royal Ascot Races, June 1956
My Education Continues
Late 1950s
Get Some In
Back to Civvy Street
Changes in my Life
The 1970s
All Change
Possession
Promotion
Life as a Guards’ Inspector
Seconded back to Ascot as SM
Life as a Relief Station Manager
Barry’s Engineering Jobs
More Tales of a Relief Station Manager
Regraded as Salaried Staff
From my Diary for 1990
Promotion to Operations Manager
Mixed Experiences
Virtual Railways
A Private Company Is Born
Isle of Wight Steam Railway
Looking Back on Changes
Farewell to Ireland
At the age of fourteen, I had just finished my schooling in Bray, County Wicklow, Southern Ireland, and had taken up my first serious job as a messenger boy with Jack O’Neill, delivering fish around the neighbourhood.
When my father secured a labouring job on a farm in Watlington, Oxfordshire, in England, with a tied cottage for us to live in, my parents decided that it would be beneficial to our family to emigrate to England so that we could have a better future. So in the winter of 1954, we upped sticks, sold everything, gave our dog to the next-door neighbour and off we went, not really knowing what the future held for us. There were my two brothers, James and Will, my four sisters, Margaret, Jenny, Kathleen and Marie, as well as my father, mother and me. The journey to England was horrendous - it was very cold and the ship that we were sailing in was known as the cattle boat. It was thrown all over the place by the sea, taking some four or five hours before docking at Holyhead.
By this time we were all very hungry and we were issued with the sandwiches that my mum had prepared for the journey. We ate greedily, not knowing how long it would be before we ate again.
The train journey to London Euston seemed to take another lifetime, then we had to get the Underground to Paddington and yet another train to Watlington. This journey was just as bad, ending up at a little country station in the middle of nowhere. When we eventually alighted, a large car was waiting for us, but as this could only take my parents and the luggage, we were given instructions on how to reach the cottage. Cold and tired, we had to trudge along narrow winding lanes with little or no lighting. Finally we arrived and settled down the best we could for the night, hoping it would be better in the light of day.
However, daylight did not bring the hoped-for improvement. We missed our friends, our home, our dog; you name it, we missed it. As the days passed we began to get used to the idea that we were not going back to Ireland and would have to make the best of it. After being penned up for a few weeks, one Saturday we all were allowed to go to the local cinema. Remember, we had come from a sizeable seaside town and were used to having a choice of three cinemas, all showing the latest films. I, in particular, had been able to get a free pass for one of them because Mr O’Neill’s fish shop used to display a poster of coming events in the window and he was given a couple of tickets in exchange, and would give me one every so often.
The cinema here was tiny, the screen was approximately handkerchief size - so disappointing for us, but we had to make the best of it.
I suppose that I was the lucky one because my Auntie Julia came to see us from Reading and suggested to my mother that she would be willing to look after me and take me to Caversham in Reading to live with her, her husband, and their two children, Anthony and Marie. My mother agreed and soon I was packed off to Reading. As I was not yet fifteen and so unable to go to work, I spent most of my time helping out where I could. I got to know Reading very well and used to go to the river with Anthony.
It was not too long before I could apply for a job and secured one in Huntley and Palmers, the biscuit factory in Reading. I was given training on the Iced Gems machine and soon became proficient at putting the icing on the tiny biscuits. I stayed at the factory for about a year until my father secured another job in Sunningdale, Berkshire, with a nice little house, and I was invited to return home. I had enjoyed my stay with my Aunt, but it was time for me to go, so I went home and looked for another job.
When I had been at home for a couple of weeks, I began to make some friends, one being the lad who lived next door, Jim Teague. His father worked for the same person as my father. Around this time, I met another lad, who worked for the railway, named David Cholmondely or Chunky as he was known.
My father knew someone who worked as an engineer for a firm in Staines and I was offered a job as an apprentice. I must admit that I did not know what I wanted to do and was not really keen on this, but I was prepared to give it a try. I did, but unfortunately soon found out that it was not what I was looking for, so I began to look around for another job. It was during a long conversation with Chunky that I learned that a position for a Junior Parcels Porter on the railway at Ascot had become available and he advised that I should apply for it as soon as possible if I was interested. I didn’t know a lot about railways but Chunky always seemed happy enough working there. He came from a railway family - his father worked on the permanent way side. I said that I was indeed interested and asked if he could put in a good word for me. He said that he would, and after about a week, told me that the Station Master, Mr Childs, would like to see me for an interview. It was arranged that I would go along the next Saturday at 10 o’clock, and as this would not interfere with my present job, I was happy to give it a go.
First Impressions of Southern
Saturday duly arrived, and off I went to Ascot which was the next station down the line from where we lived. When I alighted from the train, I asked the porter where I could find Mr Childs. He asked me what I wanted him for and when I replied that I was there for an interview, he said that I should see Mr Davidge, the Station Foreman. He took me to his office and knocked on the door. “Come in,” called a voice from inside. The porter opened the door and sitting behind a desk was a stout man with grey hair who introduced himself as Mr Davidge.
“What can I do for you, young man?” he asked.
“I am here for an interview for a Junior Parcels Porter position, sir,” I replied.
“You are, are you? What is your name?”
“Pat Shannon,” I replied.
“What makes you think that you will be any good to us, then?” he asked.
”Well, I am a good worker and have worked for a year in Huntley and Palmers in Reading. I am also well mannered and can get on with people,” I said.
“Let’s see. I’ll take you along to see the Station Master, Mr Childs. Come this way,” he said, leading me to the office next door. I was introduced to a middle aged man sitting at a desk.
“This is Master Shannon, here for an interview for the junior’s job,” said Mr Davidge.
“I am Mr Childs, the Station Master at Ascot. Why do you want to be a railwayman?” he asked.
I had to think on my feet because the only thing that I knew about railways was what I had heard from Chunky. I was not a railway buff, very far from it. “I think that it is a good steady job if I keep my nose clean, and that there will be an opportuni
ty for me to advance myself if I work hard.”
“You would be required to write down names and addresses in the inwards and outwards counter books. I will give you this form to fill out and when you have finished you can return it to me and I will be able to judge your handwriting for myself.” Passing the form to the Foreman, he said, “Can you take this young man to your office for him to complete it and return it to me when he is finished, please.”
I duly completed the form and returned it to him; he studied it for a while, looked up and said that it was satisfactory. “What do you think, Mr Davidge?” passing the form to the Foreman, who also took some time to study it.
After a long pause, he eventually said, “I think he will do.”
“Your shifts will be 6 o’clock to 2 o’clock, and 2 o’clock to 10 o’clock from Monday to Saturday. Because of your age, you are not allowed to work after 10 o’clock under any circumstances. When would you be able to start?”
“Monday week,” I said. That would be 2nd February 1956.
“That will do nicely. What do you think, Mr Davidge, as he will be working on your shift?”
“Yes, I reckon we can make something of him.”
“Could you please take him out and introduce to the rest of the staff.”
So off we went. The first staff member that I was introduced to was the Chief Clerk, Mr Bryant, a very pleasant man in charge of the Goods Department and Booking Office. The two clerical officers were Stan Sharman and Derek Sarney, and there was Ken Criddle, the goods checker, and Ernie Picket the Junior Parcels Porter with whom I would be working opposite shifts. Mr Davidge left me in the care of Ernie so that I would get some idea of what work I would be required to do. I spent most of that day following Ernie around and generally getting used to the place. He showed me how to fill in the Inwards and Outwards Counter Book and explained how the parcels came in by passenger train, some prepaid, while others were to be paid for and had to be entered into the book. Of course I would only remember about five per cent of all this information when I finally started work there.
Now came the tricky part; I would have to go home and tell my parents that I was leaving the engineering job and going to work on the railway. My mother took this news quite well, as she maintained that it was my life and that she had brought the family to England to improve ourselves. My father was a different proposition altogether. He had got me the engineering job in the first place and was not very happy about me leaving it and letting his friend down; but to give him his due, after a long discussion with my mother, he relented and said that if that what I wanted to do he would not stand in my way and he wished me well.
On the Monday I handed my notice in to the foreman and he took it to the office. A few minutes later, I was called to the Manager’s Office to explain why I wanted to throw up a position with good prospects. I felt that I had to be honest and told him that I felt that I was not suited for that particular work and had got another job. He accepted that not everybody was cut out for it and wished me well in my new job.
I was very much left to my own devices for the next week - sweeping up the floors, running errands and so on. Nobody seemed to be very worried that I was leaving at the end of the week, so on the Friday after my shift was over I left, ready for the new chapter in my life.
Early Days at Ascot
I spent the weekend out and about with my mates and it went very fast. Then on the Monday morning at 8 o’clock sharp, I reported to the foreman at Ascot Station for my first day with British Railways.
“Hello, young Pat,” said Mr Davidge. “So you have decided to come and join us and make a career on the railway?”
“Well yes,” I replied, not really knowing what a career was.
Leading me to the mess room, he introduced me to some of the other staff I would be required to work with. He pointed out to me that I would need to give these higher-ranked staff some measure of respect. First was Charlie Turner, the upside coupler. Charlie was a man of about 5 foot 6 inches tall with a ruddy complexion and grey hair sticking out below his cap which bore the badge of Porter. The second man I was introduced to was Charlie Cowdry, who at 5 foot 10 inches was a little taller than CT. He had a very gaunt face. Both of these men had worked on the railway for many years and all of their time had been spent at Ascot. With the introductions over, I was taken down the platform to the Parcels Office where I was to start my first day.
Entering the office, I saw Mr Bryant, the Chief Clerk, standing at the other side of the counter talking to Ernie whom I had met on my previous visit. “Mr Bryant, we have got young Pat Shannon here who is going to start work as Junior Parcels Porter from today,” said Mr Davidge. “Can I leave him with you and get Ernie to show him the ropes.”
“Yes, we will look after him,” agreed Mr Bryant.
Once Mr Davidge had departed, it was down to work. “Ernie said that he has shown you how to fill out the book,” said Mr Bryant, “but I will go over it with you again to make sure that you are happy and understand it.”
After some time of instruction, I had been shown how to fill in the Received Parcels Counter and Delivery Sheet Record Book which contained the details of all the parcels received. The book was given a unique number and contained such information as Region, Station, Date, Number, Description, Station from, Paid, Charges, Stamped or Waybill, Printed Number of Stamped or Ledger Label number, Consignee, Address, Weight, Amount To Pay, Cartage, Description of Charges, Total payable on delivery, Received in good condition, Signature and Clearance payments.
I was then allowed to enter some of the parcels in the book. The procedure was that a customer would come into the office with a parcel for dispatch; they would be given a consignment note to fill in with their name and address and the name and address of the person that they were sending it to. It would be weighed and charged at a certain scale, the money was collected and a copy of the note was handed back to the customer; it was all very simple. If the parcel was paid for, an open paid label with red writing on a white background was used with the price that was paid written on it, but if it was an account it would have a Ledger Label No 1 or if it was government business it had a Ledger Label No 7. These ledger labels had black writing on a white background, and were stuck on with glue made up from a substance from a brown envelope. This envelope was marked Liquid Adhesive and had the following instructions printed on it.
‘The contents of this package will make half a pint. Add contents to sufficient cold water, shaking until thoroughly dissolved. Then add water to make half a pint in two additions each followed by vigorous shaking. After standing for half-an-hour, shake again - adhesive is then ready for use.’
There were several types of labels: yellow and white luggage in advance had a big C printed on them meaning to be called for at the station, red and white to pay labels, luggage labels, pink and black livestock labels, black and white passengers’ luggage labels, route labels of all different hues, outstation labels, urgent, perishable and glass labels. This is only a small example of the variety of labels used by British Railways and Southern Region. Then there were labels for lost luggage which had to be recorded and disposed of to Waterloo. Then there was a postcard to advise customers that their parcels had arrived, which stated the Parcels Office, station, date and the following:
‘I beg to advise you that the under-mentioned merchandise consigned to you has to-day arrived at this Station, and will be handed over upon payment of any charges due. Will you be good enough to arrange early collection of the consignment in order to avoid any additional charges for warehousing which will become due if the merchandise is not removed within one clear day after its arrival otherwise the goods will be held subject to the Standard Terms and condition of carriage applicable thereto.’
I soon discovered that there were two delivery men, and the inward parcels had to be recorded on each of their delivery sheets, one for south Ascot and one for north Ascot. Alfie Grey was the delivery driver for the north and Tom P
ortsmouth (Pompey) for the south. Every parcel had to be scrutinised and recorded on the correct sheet and any debit occurring had to be entered so that the driver could collect the outstanding monies. The two drivers were also responsible for collecting parcels for dispatch, of which there were many. One of the regular collections was from a firm called Ambassador who assembled motor cycles. Besides this, flowers, school trunks, mail order parcels and baskets of trees were a few of the many items that passed through the office, and did not even include the heavy traffic that was consigned by Goods Train.
If the parcel were of an urgent nature such as perishable goods or baskets of pigeons, they would be dispatched by the first available passenger train. I would have to take it out myself and ensure that it was dispatched, giving it to the Guard of the train and recording the details. Otherwise the dispatch of parcels and inward traffic was the responsibility of the platform staff. The Parcels Office was also used to store left luggage and other items that passengers wished to leave in our care; all at a price, I might add.
There were two parcels trains per day; one at 2 o’clock and one at 7 o’clock. These trains contained the bulk of the traffic, and were generally filled to capacity and we would be required to give a helping hand to the platform staff to load or unload them.
I soon mastered the books and delivery sheets. I also learnt to recognise that if I were to telephone certain people promptly to advise them that their perishables had arrived, there was a shilling to be made for myself, so I could increase my meagre weekly salary of £3.00 to a respectable level. This practice was widely accepted.
I soon got to know the other members of staff who worked on different shifts, Chunky, Henry Sage, Len Southam (Snakey) the other Foreman, Bernard Baker the Shunter, Brian (Blossom) Green. There were also several signalmen, including Graham Sheath, Cyril Gould, Jack Hills, Tex Richens, Fred Russell and Bob Russell, and the Area Inspector, Arthur Moody. There were various others such as ticket collectors, whose names sadly escape me.
