Let me go back to the days of the MLO.
Lots of us new boys, and remember Royal Mail were recruiting like mad back then, were on varied duties each week. We had to look on the board to see what duty we were on unless we could work something out with the writing room.
We had three floors at the MLO, well four if you include the basement.
Ground floor was unloading and segging onto the chain which took the mail to top floor. It was all loose bags then, no trays or Yorks, with parcels in as well. Parcel force was yet to come. No we are not quite back to the 1800’s and no I’m not that old.
The mail then worked its way back down through the building and out. Anyway some of the jobs were great. We even had a duty for cycle repairs. Don’t matter if you don’t know anything about them. You don’t need to do much beside you were only there to help the old boy who knew what he was doing so you had a nice easy time.
Many of the duties had to be split between different floors. So you spent some time on one floor and the go to another. Problem was nobody seemed to know who was supposed to be where. And to make matters worse you could get one manager take you away for a job and then no one knew where you were. The manager you were supposed to be working for knew you had gone with another but when he finished with you and sent you back they never told the first one that you were on your way back. The number that disappeared home, especially if you only had an hour or so to go.
I remember on early on op sorting when the manager asked for someone to go with driver to London Bridge, I’ll come to station duties later. Don’t forget all mail is loose loaded in bags, no trays or Yorks. Well I said I would go, so off I went. Found the driver and as the lorry was already loaded off we went. No rush up to the station at London Bridge. First things first, the bloke there are just off to tea, so off we go for a cuppa. When we all come back we start to unload, but no rush.
Well cut a long story short on the way back the driver says to me what time do you finish, so I tell him and he says where do you live so tells him. Anyway he says that by time we get back it will about time for me to go home so if I want he will drop me off at home, he is going to drop by his home and will not get back for a while anyway, he will blame the London traffic. I made about two hours that day. Which is all you make out of Royal mail, time.
Station duties.
Some of the duties at the MLO covered the railway station.
Mail used to travel by rail; hence many of the old offices were near railway stations.
Beside the TPO’s mail also travelled by ordinary passenger trains, the seats were supposed be folded back so they did not get dirty. The doors of the trains were I think locked to stop the public trying to get on at a station. The mail was labelled different in those days. The old labels had a couple of little boxes on them, ‘Extra’ and ‘final’ and I think a number. This was supposed to show how many bags total on that despatch for that destination and which bag was the last one. The last one, particularly of the final despatch, often contained ‘specials’ and so had to go to the PHG in the den.
Station duty could be fun, for one thing there was never enough work for all us. A few minutes to load or unload may be couple hundred bags onto train then that was it until the next one which could be an hour or more later. Time for a nice cuppa. The other thing was that finishing time for the station duties always seemed to be a long time after the last train so you always finished early. Once the train was done off you went. Never did understand how they could do that with duties. Pay men who were not working.
One evening a train pulled and we started to open the doors and get the barrows alongside. We got in the train to unload and found a bloke there. Well our illustrious leader did not say a word, just nodded at the chap. Well there is not supposed to be anyone on these trains and if there is they have to have identification. We the illustrious leader gets of the train and I get a bit concerned. I mean it might be the great train robbery all over again. So I ask this chap who he is, he says he works for Royal Mail, so I asked if he had any identification. Well he did, nice little plastic card with photo and that on it. Apparently he was some sort of travelling security inspector. He asked why our illustrious leader had not challenged him, I said he had gone to ring the previous station first to see if they knew if anyone had got on. Well our leader comes back and before he can say anything, thankfully, the chap says well done but there is no need to try to find out first, just challenge any one on the train. Needless to say our leader was a bit taken back but happy when he found out.
Most of the inward mails during the night came in by van, even from the London stations. In those days there was not a problem with late arrivals as you always had the ‘B’ delivery.
