I was born and raised in the old Black Country
FRANK LEE recalls life in WWII, school years and his apprenticeship
SOON after the outbreak of the Second World War and starting school, my mother was admitted to hospital with tuberculosis and I did not see her again during her high risk treatment for around six months, due to the distance to travel, as no suitable transport was available, which brought a marked change in my life.
As my father worked all day and was an ARP warden at night, I was sent to live with my 74-year-old grandmother. She had experienced hardship, having to resort to selling dripping at a farthing a cup from her front window, and still had little money, so food was very different and I had to quickly become used to it or go hungry. Meals consisted of rice pudding every day, three days of stew of unknown content, and other days either pigs’ trotters, tripe or some other offal.
The only newspaper was the Sunday News of the World, as she attempted to win the crossword prize, and the paper was safety-pinned together, as it was considered unsuitable for me to read. Christmas decoration consisted of the same lone small pink sugar pig brought out every year since the early 1900s.
On my mother’s and my return home, with the government call to grow your own produce, a large local field had been ploughed for allotments and my father acquired some plots. This brought about the start of my work experience, helping to cultivate the home garden, greenhouse and allotments, incubate and feed the chickens, and clean out and feed the rabbits. With my mother being an excellent cook, utilising the food rations to the maximum, food was heavenly again. Woolton or shepherd’s pie, toad-in-thehole, jam roly-poly, spotted dick, but I was not so keen when it was semolina or tapioca.
One night in July 1942 after listening to Alvar Lidell on the war news, Lord Haw-haw, and going to bed after a cup of Ovaltine, the sirens sounded again, but this time instead of going to the Anderson shelter in the garden with its very uncomfortable bed made from a panelled door, I sheltered under the living room table. Three very loud bombs exploded nearby shattering some windows and causing the ceiling to collapse onto the table, but fortunately no injuries. We found out later some people had been killed and others were trapped in a public shelter close to a very large bomb crater approximately 100 yards from my home. My father, who was on ARP duty and was extremely lucky to have been some distance from the explosion, had then spent the rest of the night attempting to rescue people from the shelter.
My two elder sisters, who were busy knitting balaclavas and socks for the army, now cajoled me into helping them by teaching me to knit, corking using a cotton reel, cutting up old woollen clothing and assisting in making rag rugs. Being interested in music and following the family tradition, I continued to learn the piano and playing the drums in the Boys Brigade. My grandfather was a barrel-organ player, my mother a soloist in the choir and concerts such as The Mikado at Willenhall Road Methodist Chapel. My eldest sister, already a
trained opera singer and soloist in many district musical events, became principal soloist in the yearly musicals during the 1950s at the Grand Theatre and Theatre Royal, Bilston, including Showboat in 1952. Even our dog sang and we called him Bing.
During the latter years of WWII, in between helping in the garden, my jobs increased. Once a week I had to black lead the large cast iron grate with “Zebo”, at home and also at my grandmother’s, Sunday, I pumped the pipe organ my sister played at the Chapel we attended for morning and evening services, and for occasional concerts.
Other tasks included fetching logs every few weeks to supplement and save the coal for the winter months, chopping firewood, and lighting the fire every day in the living room grate, then lighting the boiler for hot water on Monday for washing clothes in a tub, using a maid, and on Friday for bath night in the galvanised bath.
In 1946 I was extremely fortunate in that my parents had booked two weeks holiday at Babbacombe, Devon, my first seaside holiday. Also my parents were now treating me to go to the Saturday morning cinema aptly named the the “Flea Pit”, as sometimes during the interval “Flit” was sprayed, to the Rollerdrome in Temple Street and football at the Wolves. Walking to these events enabled me to use the bus fare to buy sweets, that were in very short supply, or a halfpenny worth of batter bits from a local fish and chip shop.
Having no money of my own except for the two pennies in the Christmas stocking, I decided to attempt to find a part time job to get some holiday pocket money. First was as a paper boy starting at 6.30am, delivering around 20 papers daily and collecting the money at the weekend; I was paid one shilling if all the money due was paid and correct. I gave up after about three months due to people all too often not paying, which reduced my pay, and also being attacked by dogs.
One week before going on holiday, my father decided that instead of travelling by train, we would travel by car and he bought a 1938 Standard. Having no garage, he agreed with my uncle to keep the car in his yard where he kept his horse, cart and other animals. Next day he found that a billy goat had seen its reflection and butted and dented the door panels. After only one week of driving lessons, we set off with an AA road map and got lost several times due to many road signs being removed to confuse the Germans if they had invaded. Guided by the sun, we arrived at our digs 12 hours later. We had missed the evening meal but enjoyed beans on toast at Molly’s Snack Bar.
Next day after breakfast, consisting of about ten cornflakes with milk, no sugar, one round of toast and one teaspoon of marmalade each, we found the cliff railway down to Oddicombe Beach was closed and, with my mother unable to climb back up the steep coastal path, it was decided we would go to Teignmouth instead. On arrival, seeing a notice for a boat trip around the bay for 6d and the boat being about to leave, my sister and I dashed down the beach onto the boat. Once out at sea, we were asked for 5 shillings each and we found out that the boat was actually going to Torquay. To our dismay, this took all the money I had saved from the paper round and also all my sister had. We walked back from Torquay to Babbacombe, the landlady kindly lent us the bus fare to arrive back in Teignmouth some three hours later, to our distraught parents wondering what had happened to us.
Although I now no longer had any money, my parents made our holiday very enjoyable visiting many beaches and places around the Torquay area. My father was always properly
Three very loud bombs exploded nearby shattering some windows and causing the ceiling to collapse
dressed for the beach in collar and tie but not wearing the traditional knotted handkerchief hat.
For my next job, I assisted a Corona soft drinks delivery driver. I worked all week, 8am to 6pm, handling dozens of bottle crates – my reward was a bottle of dandelion and burdock. My next job wasn’t much better. My friend’s father made brass cupboard locks in his small workshop, and, on receipt of a large order, asked me could I help. Again, naively, I did not ask what the pay would be, worked one week, 8am to 6pm, and Saturday morning, drilling and punching over 400 lock parts; my reward this time was six eggs from his chickens to give to my mother. A big lesson learnt – to agree wage before starting.
After working several Saturdays in Huse men’s outfitters Queen Street for two and six pence, I struck lucky during one of my regular visits to the rollerdrome. The manager, noticing I was helping some other skaters to get and fit the skates, offered me a job doing this and issuing and return of skates on Friday night and Saturday. I agreed – pay including free snacks and drinks from the café, and the added bonus of free entry anytime. I kept this job for a few years, during which I learnt to play roller hockey and was sometimes selected for Wolverhampton team’s home matches.
With completing my education in engineering at Wolverhampton Technical High School in 1951, I applied for a job at John Thompson and was accepted for a five year indentured apprenticeship. After a period in the training school I moved to the Motor Pressings Machine Shop under a very strict works manager – if you were one minute late clocking in or he considered you were taking too long going to the toilet, he docked some pay. Next, I moved to the Prototype Chassis Shop, assisting to produce the first chassis for several different cars, making many parts by hand, including the new Austin Healey and the new lighter, stronger box section design Rolls-royce. Following this after a few months in Pipework Works bending pipes, I was transferred to the Water Tube Boiler drawing office designing and producing detailed drawings in ink on linen for power station steam drums, combustion chamber and superheater pipework.
Other unexpected tasks were to wash the section’s cups twice a day, ready for the 10 minute morning and afternoon breaks when the tea trolley came around. In the morning I had to fetch cigarettes when available, as they were in short supply from local shops, and also, when required, bacon and egg sandwiches or with a sausage, “the big un”, from where they were cooked in the front room of a nearby house.
With two years apprenticeship remaining, indications were this was my last move before permanent employment in this department. Being well trained in washing cups for the next two years did not appeal. Having been selected by the training manager to assist him in organising the apprentice social and sports activities and learning that Ordnance Company were involved in some new innovative restricted work for the Admiralty, I took the opportunity to ask for a transfer to that company, which was accepted.
Ordnance had been awarded the contract to design and develop the first guided missile launchers and handling equipment for use on board ship, and also the manufacture of the complex Radar Missile/gun Directors, and I was pleased to be accepted and included in the design team for this work. Several designs were produced for testing at Aberporth, Wales, and at Woomera in Australia.
My apprenticeship ended in October 1956 and I stayed with Ordnance for the next 40 years, during which the company name and ownership changed several times. It is now Ansaldo Nuclear Ltd.