A New Career
From Hospitality to the Post Office
Hospitality, I came to realise, could be an unsociable trade, with long hours spent working evenings, weekends, and public holidays. Seeking a more stable and fulfilling career, I began exploring other opportunities. Eventually, I came across an advertisement for a career with the Post Office, focused on telecommunications. After attending several interviews, I was fortunate to secure a position as a trainee in the telephone service of the UK General Post Office.
Leaving my job at the Grapes was bittersweet. Mr and Mrs Boyes had been kind and understanding, fully aware that gaining broader experience often means moving on.
I began my new employment as part of a team of men who travelled together in a well-equipped vehicle loaded with tools and equipment. Our work involved installing telegraph poles and telephone kiosks, as well as repairing lines damaged by storms. Dressed in practical workwear, I relished being outdoors, despite the physical demands. My colleagues were a down-to-earth bunch, very different from the people I had met on ships and in hotels, yet I quickly settled into their camaraderie and was accepted as one of their own.
After six months, I was selected to attend a ten-day course at Bletchley Park, covering the fundamentals of telephony. It was not easy for Sheila to manage without me during that time, but whenever possible, we returned home for weekend visits. One exercise from the course remains vivid in my memory: strapping myself to a telegraph pole to simulate working on wires and insulators. Climbing several metres high in cold winter conditions β including heights of over sixty metres along the seafront at Herne Bay in Kent β was both terrifying and exhilarating.
On completing the course, I joined a smaller team of four men and a foreman, installing wires between poles. Fresh from Bletchley Park, I eagerly volunteered for pole-climbing duties. We often found ourselves working in the countryside, enjoying simple picnics during breaks and sharing hot tea. Six months later, I returned to Bletchley Park for further training, this time delving deeper into telephony and equipment installation.
Soon afterwards, I joined a team responsible for installing lines from poles into buildings. I particularly enjoyed meeting homeowners and business proprietors and took real satisfaction in completing each job well.
After numerous months, I was offered a position as a solo fitter. Armed with a bag of tools, I would be responsible for independently installing telephone extensions at various premises. A vehicle was provided, but first I needed a valid driving licence. I had passed my test the previous year β despite turning left when instructed to turn right, and right when told to turn left. Even so, the instructor praised my overall driving and passed me. That small victory marked my readiness to begin work alone with the GPO.
Life was going well. I enjoyed my new career, while Paul, our youngest, grew up happy and well cared for by Sheila, who also prepared wonderful meals for us all. Although I had started at the bottom of the pay scale and taken a pay cut, we managed well. With no rent to pay, we covered food and utilities ourselves and even managed to save a little.
However, this period of calm was disrupted by a dispute between Sheila and her father, Henry. I found myself caught between two stubborn Irish personalities, though my loyalty was firmly with Sheila. After three or four weeks of tension, it became clear that staying at Red Lion Cottages was no longer an option.Β
We knew it was time to move on. That decision marked the end of one chapter of our lives and the uneasy beginning of another, shaped as much by circumstance as by choice.Β
Leaving my job at the Grapes was bittersweet. Mr and Mrs Boyes had been kind and understanding, fully aware that gaining broader experience often means moving on.
I began my new employment as part of a team of men who travelled together in a well-equipped vehicle loaded with tools and equipment. Our work involved installing telegraph poles and telephone kiosks, as well as repairing lines damaged by storms. Dressed in practical workwear, I relished being outdoors, despite the physical demands. My colleagues were a down-to-earth bunch, very different from the people I had met on ships and in hotels, yet I quickly settled into their camaraderie and was accepted as one of their own.
After six months, I was selected to attend a ten-day course at Bletchley Park, covering the fundamentals of telephony. It was not easy for Sheila to manage without me during that time, but whenever possible, we returned home for weekend visits. One exercise from the course remains vivid in my memory: strapping myself to a telegraph pole to simulate working on wires and insulators. Climbing several metres high in cold winter conditions β including heights of over sixty metres along the seafront at Herne Bay in Kent β was both terrifying and exhilarating.
On completing the course, I joined a smaller team of four men and a foreman, installing wires between poles. Fresh from Bletchley Park, I eagerly volunteered for pole-climbing duties. We often found ourselves working in the countryside, enjoying simple picnics during breaks and sharing hot tea. Six months later, I returned to Bletchley Park for further training, this time delving deeper into telephony and equipment installation.
Soon afterwards, I joined a team responsible for installing lines from poles into buildings. I particularly enjoyed meeting homeowners and business proprietors and took real satisfaction in completing each job well.
After numerous months, I was offered a position as a solo fitter. Armed with a bag of tools, I would be responsible for independently installing telephone extensions at various premises. A vehicle was provided, but first I needed a valid driving licence. I had passed my test the previous year β despite turning left when instructed to turn right, and right when told to turn left. Even so, the instructor praised my overall driving and passed me. That small victory marked my readiness to begin work alone with the GPO.
Life was going well. I enjoyed my new career, while Paul, our youngest, grew up happy and well cared for by Sheila, who also prepared wonderful meals for us all. Although I had started at the bottom of the pay scale and taken a pay cut, we managed well. With no rent to pay, we covered food and utilities ourselves and even managed to save a little.
However, this period of calm was disrupted by a dispute between Sheila and her father, Henry. I found myself caught between two stubborn Irish personalities, though my loyalty was firmly with Sheila. After three or four weeks of tension, it became clear that staying at Red Lion Cottages was no longer an option.Β
We knew it was time to move on. That decision marked the end of one chapter of our lives and the uneasy beginning of another, shaped as much by circumstance as by choice.Β