not go far wrong.’ He reached out and opened a book, scanning the pages. ‘Hmm, I don’t know about the spring
shop – set a bunch on only last week. We’re desperate in the strip department, though. I’ll give yer a try in there.’
He wrote something on a card and asked her name and address, raising an eyebrow when she mentioned Moorland House. ‘Take this to the strip across the lines, third door on the left, and
watch the loco’s.’
When Mary found the place she opened the door to a dazzle of artificial light, the smell of paraffin and the noise of at least a dozen slitting machines all working at once. A young lad whistled
at her even though she felt like a frump in the brown melton trousers and overall which showed inches below her coat. Another man in a brown overall came and took the card, beckoning for her to
follow him. She walked up the aisle between the machines until he stopped and spoke to a woman quite a bit older than Mary.
‘Yer’ve got a new mate, Madge,’ he said. ‘Show her how to go on, will yer, an’ fit her up with an apron and some gloves.’
Madge showed Mary where the stores were and Mary went in search of gloves and an apron which seemed to be made of cardboard rather than cloth. She returned to the bench in front of one of the
machines and Madge explained how it worked.
‘What’s yer name, love?’ she asked.
‘Mary O’Connor.’
‘Right then, I’m the pairer, you’re the packer. I cut the coil into strips and your job is to lift the coiled strips off the machine and secure them with pieces of flat band
ready for the inspector,’ Madge said, demonstrating as she spoke. ‘Then they’ll be taken to the warehouse. All right? Now you have a go.’
Mary lifted the next coil off the machine and began to spin it to remove the centre.
‘Now then.’ Madge put out a hand. ‘Never do that without gloves or you’ll cut your hands to smithereens.’
Mary donned her gloves and had another go, fastening up the coil with flat band.
‘Good,’ said Madge. ‘Now see how fast you can do it. More tonnage we get out, more money we take home on a Friday.’
Mary liked Madge. Not only did she work with her, helping her to pack, but she explained what the different-sized coils were to be used for. Most of them would go through to the spring shop;
some would be made into razor blades and watch springs but most would end up as cartridge clips for machine guns.
‘It was mainly umbrella strip before the war started,’ Madge explained. ‘Now I suppose the poor buggers’ll just have to get wet.’ Mary smiled, grateful to have
found a mate like Madge.
At one o’clock Madge asked, ‘Did you bring some snap?’
Mary looked at her blankly.
‘Sandwiches. Snap,’ Madge said.
‘Oh, yes. On the table with my coat.’
‘We’ll find a locker for you tomorrow to put them in.’
Suddenly the buzzer went and everybody downed tools and made for the end of the mill.
‘Bring your snap,’ Madge said.
They all went into a room which Madge said was the canteen. Pots of tea stood on a metal table and everybody grabbed one and found a chair.
‘Have you a spare pot, Doris?’ Madge enquired of a small plump woman. ‘We’ve a new lass here.’
Doris produced a huge pint pot and slammed it in front of Mary. ‘Here you are, love. Pay on Friday when yer get yer money.’
The tea was strong and delicious and Mary enjoyed listening to the chat of the girls and a couple of young lads.
After snap time she quite enjoyed her new job, but she didn’t know how she was going to pedal her bike up those hills after standing for an eight-hour shift.
The first week Mary wanted nothing on her return from work other than a hot meal and bed, and she thought she would never become accustomed to the long daily routine. But
gradually she found the energy to resume some of the household tasks, insisting on doing the washing on a Saturday instead of the usual Monday. Gladys quite enjoyed
shop – set a bunch on only last week. We’re desperate in the strip department, though. I’ll give yer a try in there.’
He wrote something on a card and asked her name and address, raising an eyebrow when she mentioned Moorland House. ‘Take this to the strip across the lines, third door on the left, and
watch the loco’s.’
When Mary found the place she opened the door to a dazzle of artificial light, the smell of paraffin and the noise of at least a dozen slitting machines all working at once. A young lad whistled
at her even though she felt like a frump in the brown melton trousers and overall which showed inches below her coat. Another man in a brown overall came and took the card, beckoning for her to
follow him. She walked up the aisle between the machines until he stopped and spoke to a woman quite a bit older than Mary.
‘Yer’ve got a new mate, Madge,’ he said. ‘Show her how to go on, will yer, an’ fit her up with an apron and some gloves.’
Madge showed Mary where the stores were and Mary went in search of gloves and an apron which seemed to be made of cardboard rather than cloth. She returned to the bench in front of one of the
machines and Madge explained how it worked.
‘What’s yer name, love?’ she asked.
‘Mary O’Connor.’
‘Right then, I’m the pairer, you’re the packer. I cut the coil into strips and your job is to lift the coiled strips off the machine and secure them with pieces of flat band
ready for the inspector,’ Madge said, demonstrating as she spoke. ‘Then they’ll be taken to the warehouse. All right? Now you have a go.’
Mary lifted the next coil off the machine and began to spin it to remove the centre.
‘Now then.’ Madge put out a hand. ‘Never do that without gloves or you’ll cut your hands to smithereens.’
Mary donned her gloves and had another go, fastening up the coil with flat band.
‘Good,’ said Madge. ‘Now see how fast you can do it. More tonnage we get out, more money we take home on a Friday.’
Mary liked Madge. Not only did she work with her, helping her to pack, but she explained what the different-sized coils were to be used for. Most of them would go through to the spring shop;
some would be made into razor blades and watch springs but most would end up as cartridge clips for machine guns.
‘It was mainly umbrella strip before the war started,’ Madge explained. ‘Now I suppose the poor buggers’ll just have to get wet.’ Mary smiled, grateful to have
found a mate like Madge.
At one o’clock Madge asked, ‘Did you bring some snap?’
Mary looked at her blankly.
‘Sandwiches. Snap,’ Madge said.
‘Oh, yes. On the table with my coat.’
‘We’ll find a locker for you tomorrow to put them in.’
Suddenly the buzzer went and everybody downed tools and made for the end of the mill.
‘Bring your snap,’ Madge said.
They all went into a room which Madge said was the canteen. Pots of tea stood on a metal table and everybody grabbed one and found a chair.
‘Have you a spare pot, Doris?’ Madge enquired of a small plump woman. ‘We’ve a new lass here.’
Doris produced a huge pint pot and slammed it in front of Mary. ‘Here you are, love. Pay on Friday when yer get yer money.’
The tea was strong and delicious and Mary enjoyed listening to the chat of the girls and a couple of young lads.
After snap time she quite enjoyed her new job, but she didn’t know how she was going to pedal her bike up those hills after standing for an eight-hour shift.
The first week Mary wanted nothing on her return from work other than a hot meal and bed, and she thought she would never become accustomed to the long daily routine. But
gradually she found the energy to resume some of the household tasks, insisting on doing the washing on a Saturday instead of the usual Monday. Gladys quite enjoyed
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