When I was office boy at Broadford Works
I was extremely interested in Mark Chalmers article on Broadford Works . I joined the company as an office boy when I was15. It was 1941 and there was a noticeable scarcity of young male clerks. There were two main offices in the headquarters called the Cloth Office (where orders were processed) and the Counting House which housed the cashier and staff dealing with bills – and that was where I started.
The system of paying weekly wages to the workers would now be regarded as medieval. The managers of the factory (weaving processes) and the mill (spinning processes) gave each operative a pay slip and informed the cashier of the coinage required.
One of the clerks in the Counting House was given a tray, similar to the ones cinema usherettes used to sell ice cream. The tray was divided into sections for the various denominations (in those days florins, halfcrowns, etc.) with a large spike at the corner on which to file the pay slips.
One day, when I was 16, I was the only male person available to pay the factory. I will never forget the weight of the money on my shoulders and the incredible noise in the Weaving Shed. I walked down the aisle with just enough room between the shuttle arms (one wrong step would have shattered my thigh); each operative handed her slip to me and I counted out and handed over the amount due. I finished that afternoon deafened and more than a bit exhausted .
I was called on again, this time to pay the mill workers. This was even a bigger job, as there were several different departments. The girls would hand me their slips over their machines and I had to lean over to give them their money – not very easy with a big tray round one’s neck! For some reason we did not start paying out until the afternoon, which limited the time I had to finish the job before 5 pm.
At quarter to five I had just the Reeling Section on the top floor to pay. No automatic lifts in those days! In my haste, I manoeuvred the lift slightly short of the floor, with the result that I tripped as I stepped out – scattering the money over the floor and tearing my hand on the spike. With the help of the girls I quickly recovered the money and with blood running down my right hand I finished the job just as the hooter went.
I became a junior clerk in the Cloth Office and worked there until I was called up 13 days after my 18th birthday. When I was demobbed I returned to Richards, but in my latter days in the RAF I had been stationed at Hamburg Airport and the airport business had entered my bloodstream.
So when the chance of a job arose at the lowest grade at Dyce Aerodrome (as it was in those days) I grabbed it, starting me off on a career which led to higher management posts. But that’s another story.
David Davidson,
davidson366@btinternet.com