ABSTRACT
In 1928 my father was working at Metro Vickers, Trafford Park. He worked as an iron moulder. He was a shop steward. They called him the sailor. They didn’t call him his name. They called him the sailor because he’d always been a sailor. If you were ever in trouble in the foundry you went to the sailor. He was on the pricing committee. One week, the foreman gave him a job. It was an angle iron what you put in a thing for holding coke. They wanted thousands of it, at fivepence-halfpenny a box. He went and got the card out to look at the price. Well he rolled his sleeves up and set off and worked hard all week. And that week his wages were £16. The manager said, ‘He’s earned more than me.’ He come to my father and said, ‘I want to shake hands with you. I’m very proud of you.’ My father said, ‘Yes, but listen to what I’m trying to tell you. I’ve been day work for two years on £2.5s a week. Now I’ve got piece-work I can make £16. I still worked as hard on day work. As a matter of fact I’ve not worked as hard on this because it’s not a skilled job. And that’s your trouble in this shop. You put one man against another. And that’s why you’re ruling.’
