Recollections from John Jackett

Memories can be triggered by the most unusual things, this idea of who else within PCS was born in 1939, has been in the back of my mind for several weeks. Marj and her sister Mary (69 + 71) were invited to the Village primary school last week by their Great-Niece Shannon, collecting all sorts of War-time bits of paper, they set off, only to find the real subject was Christmas of long-ago.

My eldest uncle was Sgt Herbert Lewis HAYES MM. R.A., he lied about his age in 1914 and was KIA at the age of just 22, I have his service book, war grave photo and also notification of his death and pension awarded to my Grandmother. More particularly among his several letters was the last one sent home from the trenches – without those treasured letters, Marj set off with the rest of his papers, Mary had unearthed ration cards etc etc.

Shannons` classmates will all attend Secondary school next year, so they are in the age range 10 – 11, samples of questions :

Did you have outside Christmas lights?
If you only had 1 toy, what else did your parents spend their money on?
Can we still see the German plane that crashed at Reen Cross?
How far away is Reen Cross?

Don`t children walk anywhere these days, don`t they look out of the car windows? Reen Crossroads is just outside the village and a short cut in the summer to avoid the Tourists, queuing to get into Perranporth with its 3 miles of golden sandy beach!!

My earliest memories refer to the end of the War Years, I can recall seeing a houseboat that had been beached after some bomb damage, a mis-timed attack on Falmouth Docks – just a few miles down the Fal. Upstream towards Truro many landing craft / flat barges were beached alongside the riverbank, as I passed by on my way to primary school.

The snowstorm of 1947, our terrier – just like all other dogs of that era had a kennel outside, in his case in the small fruit orchard near the chicken run and I can remember scraping the snow away from the top. Our village had two milkmen – ours` was late, not able to carry two milk churns across the fields on his shoulder yoke, his horse and cart coming around by road arrived after dinner, from being the 1st house in the village we were now the last.

Collecting clothing coupons together from family members for my school blazer and grey trousers etc etc when I passed the 11 plus in 1949 – you have to be at least 70 to remember those!

Granfer Hayes lent me the money, about £17.00, to buy a drop handlebar bicycle, I used it to do a paper round and also to pick Eastertime daffodils – how the seasons have changed, they are ready now in February. In 1956 to cycle from Malpas to Truro – my first job as a temporary postman and then in 1957 all the way to the sub-postoffice in Perranporth – about 12 miles each way. He had also paid for, by cashing in his many small value Savings Certificates, several coach trip visits by Royal Blue and then Greenline at the other end in the late 1940s, back to his Kentish roots and I am still very much in touch with all my cousins over there.

Towards the end of 1958 the anticipated Call-up for National Service brown envelope duly arrived, inviting me for a medical and so on, even enclosing a warrant for me to travel by rail – great excitement within the family – a train journey at last!

At the Recruitment Office in Redruth, I was informed that the NS weekly wage was £1. 2s. 6d. if I signed for 3 or 6 years that went up to £3. 5s. 0d. The law stated that any employer had to re-appoint after the NS period of service, Mr Lean subpostmaster of Perranporth, who was actually paying me £3. 5s. 0d, duly informed me that he was going to employ another person or shut his PO / shop!! So at the end of March 1959 and as a six-year regular, I caught the train to Farnborough.

In this modern world of PC and Data protection, I would not consider giving any grievance to all those Posties who were also born in 1939, nonetheless I do know who we all are, some I have drawn recent attention to and very sadly, some I greatly miss. All who served in PCS Offices will be aware of the “pecking-order lists” produced annually, if Ernie Tomlin had just been promoted to Warrant Officer Class 1 – and my annual reports have been at least “Good” my next posting should be on promotion as well. Ernie was just 1 month senior to me as a WO 2 – those in the know will be aware of my fountain of knowledge!

In 1973, of the 12 serving Warrant Officers Class 1, only one was born in 1939 a very dear friend of both of us, Stuart Macfarlane. He was a Cpl in the early 1960s at Directorate when I was in HQ AER; WO 2 in Hannover a few years later, when we had to separate “Fluffy” from Maj Graham Hillier for Orders, usually curled up under my chair in the Orderly room for those 10 minutes or so, much to the amusement through the steel door of Pete Holman and all the Sorting Office staff. He married Moira in Hong Kong in 1976, Stu now WO 1, was granted a MQ in Osborne Barracks just a step away from us, Moira flew out and stayed with us until their marriage. We met yet again in Dusseldorf a couple of years later, Stu being in the Accounts Branch, an early morning BFT stopped dramatically and produced a major warning of the heart problems that were to pursue his life. We stayed with them in Glasgow, many years ago when he was an RO in the Army pensions office, Moira is now a retired school teacher and we hear from her every Christmas.

1930 to 1939 births covered those listed – I served with 10 out of the 12 of them, what memories.

12 of the 47 listed Warrant Officer Class 2 were born in my year, their birth years ranged from 1926 to 1944. First Class Education was a real pain to many SNCOs for promotion! I only served with 6 of my age, knew them all by association – we were – and still are in military terms, that sort of service family!

Only 4 of the 46 Staff Sergeants were 39ers, I served with them all and we are still very much in touch. Born between 1926 – 1945 covered all their age range, 1958 through to 1973 by appointment/seniority, again Education was a major stumbling block to those at the top of that very familiar list.

Two and a half pages of Sergeants are listed, 122 in total of which 13 were born in 1939, their ages range between 1923 and 1947, so the youngest had achieved the rank of Sgt at 25 ½ years old – enlistment dates are not shown, so I have no indication of how long he had served to achieve his rank.

3 ½ pages of full Corporals are the last group to be listed – the very familiar group at the top of the tree would not be allowed there these days, of the top seven Corporals by seniority, the youngest was FORTY .

Number one – born 1927, promoted to Cpl in 1959 and still a Cpl in 1973, number 4 is the eldest born in 1923. Only 2 of them would be 70 this year, several born in 1951 appear towards the end of the listings, full Corporals at the age of just 22, high-flyers?

Thirty Posties serving in 1973 would have been, are, or very soon will be, SEVENTY years young this year – including me of course.

Enjoy your memories.

Recollections from Ted Jenkinson

I joined the Army as a Three Year Regular on 17th March 1952. First stop Malvern for Induction and then to Cove for injections (Ouch!!), and Basic Training.

Next stop – Gibraltar Barracks, Driver Training. The Army decided I would make a good Driving Instructor. All went well until I discovered that if one of my Trainees had an accident I would be put on a fizzer. A single control 3-ton long wheel base Austin Truck, I didn’t like that idea at all, so got taken off Driving Instruction. I then spent about 3 months doing nothing but drinking tea in the various drinking establishments – NAAFI, Toc H etc.

Then came the day that was to change my life. It was Pay Parade and the OC walked by and asked if I was there. “Yes” I replied. He then asked me if I had ever been to Paris. Silly question, but I said “No”. “Come and see me after Pay Parade because that is where you are going” he said.

September 1953 saw me on my way through France in a Troop Carrier. There was a General Strike in France at the time, (hasn’t changed much has it?). Arrived at ALFCE, Fontainbleau, went on Interview and was informed that I was a mistake, (no change there then!). The Army being what it was sent me to the Hotel in Paris that the Posties lived in. I wouldn’t say that I was jumping up and down with joy, but the terrible thing was that it took 28 days to get me a posting. Now wasn’t that kind of the Army.

The game continues. I am now on a train heading for a place called Herford in Germany. I had to change trains at Cologne, which was when my luck started to run out. As we pull into Cologne Station my connection is pulling out. I finally arrive at Herford, see RTO, who informs me that my new Unit is going frantic. I thought – ‘At last, I am important!?’ The RSM himself came to pick me up, and on the way back to what I discovered was the Depot, he started to lay into me verbally. After I had finished laughing, not at the RSM, but at a mental image of me in full FSMO trying to get onto a moving train. I didn’t bother explaining, but I did think to myself ‘What the heck sort of Unit am I going to (or words to that effect!).

The next morning saw me on Interview and being told what the Unit was and did. I politely told the OC that I did not want to be a Postman, but it fell on deaf ears I am afraid. I then found myself L/Cpl in charge of Letter Floor surrounded by a horde of ageing German females.

And that folks is how I came to be a Postie. The silly thing is that when I re-enlisted, I joined Postal again. I have always wondered why?

Recollections from an unknown newspaper

If you want to catch Sergeant J .Macdonald of the Royal Engineers Army Postal Service you have to get up early in the morning. At any time after 04:30 Sergeant Macdonald, along with 14 sappers of the REPS will be busy in the Army’s travelling post office, sorting out thousands of letters which are sent home every day by service men and women stationed in Germany (BAOR). There are three teams doing this job.

The Army’s sorters spend most of their time going back and forth between Herford and the Hook of Holland in ten special carriages. Seven of these coaches are choc-a-block with parcels already made up in the Army’s main Post office at Herford for delivery to key points in the U.K. The other three carriages house the sorters. Around the walls are pigeon holes-frames-bearing the names of every town and postal district at home. It is into these “frames” that Sergeant Macdonald and his sorters slip the letters as they sort the bundles. By the time the train reaches the Hook all is ready for 109 Port Postal Unit to take over. The mail is bagged up before being shipped home. From then there is nothing for the civilian post office to do, except deliver the bags to the proper towns and break them into walks-GPO talk for streets along which postmen deliver.

Sergeant Macdonald, a tall, slow speaking Scot from the Hebrides and a peacetime Post Office employee, will point out that it takes a good deal of concentration to be an efficient sorter and good eyesight is paramount, since most peoples handwriting is “pretty grim”. Sergeant Major W. Clarke, who sees that the nightly loading of some 500 bags of mail is done speedily and efficiently, agrees that it is strenuous enough work. Lieutenant P Faulkes, a post office official who has been in the Army since 1939, says that one of the chief difficulties facing the T.P.O (Travelling Post Office), in common with other postal services is shortage of trained staff. Although a number of key officers and men have been compulsorily deferred it has become necessary for the Army to train its own postmen, mainly at Nottingham.

Sapper A. Roberts, struggling with a letter that looked as though it had been addressed with a worn out toothbrush, summed it up on behalf of the 13 others sorters this way; “what do they think we are, mind readers? Why don’t they write so that we can read the bloomin’ addresses? To which Cpl B. Latham added a heartfelt, “too right chum”.

This extract was sent in (via Alan Davies) by Mrs Ann Morris, whose husband Jeff served as a Postie from 1945 until 1948 in both HPC Nottingham and Herford, Germany.

Notes from Mailshot – In 1947 the TPO terminal port was changed from Calais to Hook of Holland and the surface mail then followed the route of the leave train from England. The TPO continued to operate until 1949.