The following article appeared in Post Office Magazine dated January 1947.
What we do in Our Factories by H.J. Partington.
Even though you may be employed in this vast organisation of the Post Office, how many of you realise the amount of work that has been, and still is, done in the Department’s Factories at London, Birmingham and Edinburgh in the manufacture and repair of the multifarious parts that go to make up telephones, switchboards, relays, bell-sets, dials, meters, electric motors, clocks, coin collecting boxes, watches, radio transmitters, receivers, and all the other apparatus needed at exchanges throughout the country which are necessary for the smooth working of the telephonic communications of this land? How many of the users of this system ever stop to think, especially when given a wrong number or their own instrument refuses to buzz at the right tone, of the “telephone mechanic” – that is the official description of the workman in the factory – who is the highly skilled craftsman behind all this work?
Come to the
Adjoining, we might notice the cabinet workers who make and repair the woodwork of the switchboards and boxes used in telephone work, and also notice the polishing of this woodwork. Walking around we pass the tool room where highly skilled men, using the latest types of machine, fashion the jigs and tools necessary to make all sorts of parts, large and small, true to shape and size to a ten-thousandth of an inch.
Perhaps you who have seen the inside of a switchboard, whether it be a floor model or a table one, or one built in sections in your own exchange, will wonder how those thick ropes of wires with their apparently tangled ends are made to appear in exactly the right spot for soldering to the right point. We see this being done in the cable forming shop where strong-armed, nimble-fingered ladies, with long lengths of wires of different colours and combinations of colours with deft twists of the wrists pass each colour around iron pegs in a huge board until the whole cable is formed according to a chart which the ladies read as easily as reading “Peg’s Paper.”
We climb the stairs and visit a workshop on the top floor, and have a look at a very varied assortment of Post Office instruments. Clocks of all sizes hanging on the walls and on racks, all having been repaired by a telephone mechanic, and now ticking away and shewing the time within a few minutes of each other, so that you can look up into your local Post Office window and know that the clock therein will be correct to a minute in 24 hours. On this same floor we find the motor used in driving the teleprinters also undergoing a repair, and how good this repair has to be only the telephone mechanic knows. All this apparatus which we see in the factory, too big to be made or repaired in the Regional Workshops, where machines are not installed for this purpose, has to be tested by skilled workmen with the necessary technical knowledge, and every instrument, whether it be an ordinary telephone or the large switchboard wanted to extend the local exchange, or the latest piece of wireless apparatus for foreign communications, leaves the Post Office factories as new and in perfect working order.
Extracted from Post Office Magazine January 1947.
This is a potted history of the time I spent at Garrison Lane Factory. I started in 1943 aged 14, and was interviewed at Fordrough Lane in the dark-oak (?) Office Block, where I did the maths and english tests. I was then called into the office where three dark suits were sitting down. I was told to sit while the papers were looked at, 1st Question - "How is your Brother Albert ?" "As far as we know he is alright Sir," "Pleased to hear that, start Garrison Lane on Monday."
So I travelled on the trolley-bus from The Swan, walked down the side roads, came out by The Sportsman pub and signed-in at Garrison Lane. I was issued with the Check Number 2053, a tall wooden stool and a bar-of-soap with G.R. moulded on it. - My start to my working-life.
I was to spend the next six months on fitting and machine operating before my transfer to be trained as an Electrical Engineer if I was a good lad. My Toolsetter's surname, Timmins or Timms, asked my name and told me to sit at a metal-topped bench, "Right Son this is what I want you to do, straighten these pieces of black bar steel, (1/4 inches thick by 1.1/2 wide by 24 inches long) you use this 1.1/2 lb hammer, put the pieces across these two blocks, look along the edge to see if they are straight, if they're not, you hit them with the hammer until they are !" He showed me how and left me to it. He came back occasionally and checked them, some he rejected.
Dinner time was one hour. I didn't have a cooked dinner but brought sandwiches which I ate in the Canteen whilst making friends with the other 'slaves' - oops sorry ! Lads. Names I remember are, Ron Green, Albert Towner, Jimmy Lewis, Bill Lees, Des Dyer, George Draper, Pinky Scandrett, Kimberley, Stagg, Dorrington, Bluck, Toolmaker Sailor Brown and Foreman Albert Wadley.
At Garrison Lane around this time, small Post Office Telephones and Royal Mail vans, handcarts and other small transport were maintained on the left-hand side of the factory - we used the old engine oil for oil-blacking metal jobs.
Len Copsey - August 2009.