Tony's War

This was written by my father as part of a group memoir of Engineering in the Grimsby area.

My War
by Tony Turner M.B.E., J.P.

I left Clee Grammar School early at the age of 14 because of family difficulties brought about by the War. My father was a fish merchant, there was precious little fishing, and less money.
I was offered a position as an apprentice fitter with Sir Thomas Robinson and Son after being interviewed and given a test by the then Superintendent Engineer Jimmy Mitchell - a very stern man sporting a suit and wing collar. George, his nephew, eventually succeeded him in the same position.
The same day that I accepted the apprenticeship I received a letter from Ernest Harrison, a stockbroker in Grimsby, asking me to attend an interview as an office boy, but there was no question of course of my going back on the earlier agreement.
My first day. I rose at 5.45, and a friend who was also an apprentice on the docks called for me. We left at 6.30 on our cycles, in black oilskins, in the wartime blackout, in November -just ten days after my fourteenth birthday - to cycle from Mill Road Cleethorpes to Humber Street, Grimsby and the Docks. We cycled to the footbridge with many others and carried our bikes on our shoulders over the bridge and round the corner past Colbridges to my first day of work.
My first few weeks were spent in the stores which were above the blacksmith's shop on a sort of mezzanine floor and open to all the smoke and dust from below. A favourite game of the blacksmith's was to make as much thick black smoke as possible just to annoy Ernie, the storeman, who had to retreat from his work - no wonder he suffered from bronchitis!
After several weeks in the stores I was thrown in at the deep end and given control of the screwing machine under the supervision of Fred Beales, a very kind considerate man, who is living in retirement in Cleethorpes. To begin with I suffered several weeks of tedious repetitive work screwing stud iron and boiler stays before eventually being taught to use the different sizes of lathes, drilling machines and even the boring machine.
The shop fitters were George Till, and Albert Clapham, a most frightening man from whom I always tried to keep my distance owing to his predilection for cuffing me round the ear. (On the other hand, I was a teenage lad, so maybe it was me.)
The fitting shops were dark and cold with a coke stove around which we congregated if the foreman, Harry Sellars, was not about; in fact, we used to watch out for him coming over the Humber Street footbridge at 8.30, though sometimes he fooled us by taking another route. Harry Sellars was extremely stern, and would always appear to be watching us. He had a great influence on my early life and, although I didn't fully appreciate it at the time, was very kind to me.
In those days everyone seemed to smoke although not in working hours, and we boys were no exception. We worked pretty long hours - 48 hours per week -from 7.12 a.m. to 5.00 p.m. (less an hour for lunch which we sometimes ate at the Civic restaurant corner of Cleethorpe Road and Victor Street.) Monday till Friday, and Saturday mornings. In my first year my wages were 7/6d per week rising to 11/- when I was fifteen. The tradesman’s pay was, I believe, about £3/10/0d, so any overtime was much appreciated. Welders and boilermakers were better paid.
Night School: As well as our daytime work we were expected to attend night school three evenings a week under Mr. Greenaway. If we were late or absent Mr. Sellars was informed and the next day we were dealt with accordingly.
Eventually I was allocated to a newly recruited fitter called Ted Hartley who was very tetchy - particularly in the morning. I used to keep my distance until he had had his mug of tea. (I remember that we had to keep our tea mugs in a box so the rats didn't lick the dregs.) What I didn't know at the time was that Ted was gassed during the Great War and must have suffered considerably. He was one of the most skilled tradesmen I have ever met, and he became my Mentor - so much so that when he left for a higher position at Ilford Power Station, he offered me a position with him, although I did not accept.
War Service: I was firmly convinced that the allies would never be able to win the war without the active participation of Tony Turner. I had joined the St.John Ambulance as soon as I could, followed by the Air Cadets and then became a member of the Homeguard (the Private Pike of the 6th Lindsey) commanded by my former Headmaster, Colonel Thomas and in which my father (a founder member) was a captain. When we went on parade he left the house by the front door and I by the back so that I could go by a circuitous route and avaoid having to salute him. Dad didn't believe in favouritism and gave me all the coldest, dirtiest jobs.
As soon as possible I regularly volunteered as a boy artificer at the Grimsby recruiting office in Victoria Street. Little did I realise that the officer in charge, Lt. Com. Lester, was a friend of my father's and reported my ambitions to him. As regularly as I volunteered, my father refused to sign the papers allowing me to join the Royal Navy. It didn't help matters when ex-colleagues like Barker Lettuce who was serving in submarines, visited Sir Thomas Robinson's on his not very frequent home leaves, but after another two years, in 1945, Mr. Norman Bettany, the manager (it was a reserved occupation) and my father relented and I joined up.
(There is a family joke that my joining the navy was the final reason for Germany's surrender in that they realised that the English were a race of supermen if one boy could serve in the airforce, army and navy!)
Having served on the Cruiser HMS London and the Battle class destroyer HMS S.Kitts over many sea miles to the Far East and Africa, (including escorting the royal family en route to South Africa) I returned to Sir Thomas Robinson's to find that not much had changed. Dennis Clapham, Roland Arthey et al. were still there.
I decided that I wanted a taste of fishing, and was offered the position of Second Engineer on the trawler Loyal on the condition that I obtained my Trawler Engineer's ticket. My sea time in the Royal Navy counted for nothing and I had to put in twenty-eight days on trawlers, so I signed up on the Sheldon as a trimmer. I have never experienced such a hard life or such bitter cold, and had it not been for Harold Wass, the second engineer and a former colleague from Robinson's, I don't think I would have pulled through. Trawler fishermen have my undying admiration, but that life was definitely not for me!
I was offered a position with the Queen Steam Fishing Co. and stayed for some time; the wages were better and we received 10/- for a Saturday morning. By then the future of the docks (or its lack) was becoming clear. I married, which changed my direction, but that's another story.

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