Job's Dairy Didcot - A Chapter from Bob Smith's book An Ordinary Man

Didcot Remembered - Part Two

Keeping the churn loading bay at Didcot Plant spotlessly clean

By this time I was twenty-one and sometimes I would go out on the lorries as a stand-in mate. It was always my overriding ambition to be a driver. I made it known to the manager by continually badgering him for a chance. Some time later around 1966 my chance came because someone had not turned in. The lorry was waiting at the check point (this was where the load was finally counted). The mate, a lad nicknamed Ossle, lounged in the passenger seat looking doubtful. With fluttering heart and shaking hand I climbed in and renewed my love affair with lorries that would last the rest of my working life.

My first trip turned out to be a disaster, whilst I was perfectly competent on the open road, when it came to manoeuvring it was very different from messing about in the yard. My destination was a delivery at a new depot in Horsepath in Oxford, which I achieved without incident. The load was a split, the second place was in Percy Street off the Iffley Road in Oxford. It was a small retailer called Horwoods who operated from his own private premises. It followed that we had to unload parallel with the pavement and I noted that there was a steep camber on the road and that the trailer leaned over toward the houses. This wasn't a problem so I thought nothing of it. We left Oxford with me feeling pretty pleased with myself but this was a short lived mood, lasting only until I got back to the Dairy. Mr Pearcey our manager stood there waiting for me and I could tell by the look on his face he wasn’t best pleased. He greeted me asking what I’d done in Oxford. Being unaware I replied with "nothing to my knowledge". It transpired that due to the steep camber in Percy Street I knocked the top off a gas lamp situated on the edge of the pavement as I pulled away. The Fire Brigade had been called and they had evacuated the street while repairs were carried out. This particular lamp was due for replacement as part of a modernisation programme. I think I had made their job easier for them don’t you?

The main advantage with my new job as an artic driver was that my wages went up to £12.7s.6d a week. This was a wage that eased our circumstances greatly in view of the added cost of a new flat we had moved to.

The retail depot at Oxford was one of Bob's regular deliveries

Our manager was a really good man with a sense of fairness and a ferocious temper who didn’t suffer fools gladly. If you worked hard, which we all did, he would support us totally. He was old school, he worked along side of you never asking for more than he gave himself. We observed propriety and addressed him respectfully, calling him Mr Piercy, as was the way back then. His temper was apparent when things went wrong because he would take his hat off and jump on it. I can’t remember him ever losing it with an individual, although no one ever invited him to do so.

All the years that I have driven I have never had a blameworthy accident. Probably I’ve been lucky, although I have been involved in quite a few. One day, the like of which I have not seen since, it rained pure ice. It coated everything with a thin hard layer and the highways were absolutely treacherous. My mate and I were returning from Aldermaston with a full load of empties, the weight of which gave us some adhesion to keep the trailer to the road. All went well, until we reached what was called the Tidmarsh straight. As we entered from the Bath road, there was another lorry parked in a lay-by with the driver standing on the offside. He caused me to brake which because of the conditions was something I was trying to avoid. Sure enough the wheels locked up, the trailer started to overtake us, we slid down the road through a fence into a field and waited for the trailer to catch up. Fortunately the impact was light because of the slow speed I was travelling at and we even managed to emerge back onto the road.

Eventually I reached Pangbourne where we met a driver from Job's who had brought my second load out to me which was bound for Basingstoke. We swapped lorries and he took my damaged vehicle back to Didcot. We must have travelled no more than a quarter of a mile when we went into another skid because the lorry in front of me braked for no apparent reason. I was following at a good distance behind but there was no stopping on the ice. It was the most gentle impact. We sustained minimal damage and so did he. However, the vehicle following me didn’t fair quite so well. He hit the back of me and although he was alright his van wasn’t. The backs of our trailers were solid because of the immense heavy duty tail-lifts mounted on the rears for unloading the stacks of milk. The Police arrived saying that it was no-one's fault and to swap names and details and carry on, which we did.

It was an extremely slow, nerve racking trip to Basingstoke. Eventually we got there and as we entered the sloping driveway to the retail depot the trailer slid yet again. It ended up against the wall of the building and demolished all the guttering which crashed to the ground. Three accidents in one day! I’d had enough so we got some fish and chips, went into the depot restroom and waited for conditions to improve before returning to Didcot. What a day!

A Bedford tractor unit which had a Scammell coupling similar to the type
driven by Bob when he first started work at Didcot Plant in 1960

Every so often our lorries would be replaced for more powerful ones. When I first went to Job's as a mate we had the really square old fashioned Bedford units, the ones with the bonnet stretched out in front. You got at the engine by lifting a side flap to the compartment. Almost as soon as I started we changed to a more modern, more rounded version. I can't for the life of me recall the model numbers depicting the Bedford types. I believe the former was a “T” and the latter an “S” Type but I can't be sure. The day of the ice escapades I was driving a Bedford TK. I will always remember the registration as being 6481 MM. It wasn’t a bad workhorse but not anywhere near as good as the ERF's or the Foden's. Even the Leyland was far superior in my estimation. The Bedford’s had Perkins diesel engines which were not the best in the world. The gearing made them adequate for our work as they had a crawler gear which you always needed to ascend hills, even if they were not too steep. Of course gearboxes then were not synchromesh. You had to be proficient in the art of double de-clutching, I was and I loved giving the engine a blip in the neutral stage of the operation. In the towns the roar of the engine would bounce off the buildings, creating a really great sound that made people look at you. They were probably just thinking what noisy buggers we were and not admiring our skill in driving such monsters!

Because I have never been one for repetition I would often elect to be holiday relief. Sometimes when I was spare I would take the tanker to the Nestles factory at Staverton in Wiltshire. For this trip I had a new Dodge that we were trying out for a few months. It wasn’t a bad tool but I preferred the comfort of the old Bedford TK with its walk-through cab. The tanker I pulled was only a small one with just 1500 gallons capacity which was nowhere near the maximum weight for the unit. The only trouble was that we only ever had 1200 gallons of excess milk to send out and without baffles in the tanker the load slopped about. When you stopped you waited for the milk to catch up! If you didn’t know, it could shunt you forward unexpectedly which could be a real problem at junctions where you had to give way or halt.

Then we changed to the AEC Mercury, a really lovely wagon. They had the first tachographs I ever used, up until then we had always driven on log books. Our trailers were all renewed, swapping the old Scammel hitch for the revolutionary fifth wheel coupling that still prevails to this day. With two static wind down legs they were much more stable when you unhooked. One or two of them even had air operated legs and when we described which trailer we had, "the one with the airy legs" always raised a smile! I regularly swapped from tractor to tractor according to whose run I was on and you would be surprised at the difference between the same model of vehicles. There was a standby tractor which I always tried to get as the drawback of being a spare driver was that you never got your own lorry.

A new AEC and trailer on display at Didcot

A new AEC unit and trailer on display at Didcot

The AEC‘s were the answer to our prayers. They were powerful and unlike the old TK’s pulled our loads with something to spare. However nothing is perfect. The tyres on the front were Michelin and run at low pressure and although we had power steering you still had to work really hard to get a lock on at lower speeds. Another failing, if you could call it that, was that the gear stick was extraordinarily thick and bolt upright. In order to select reverse it was a two handed operation whilst stood up. The gearboxes on them still weren’t syncromesh, but gears were not as hard to engage as some of the older wagons. Obviously technology was advancing, but it still had a long way to go to meet modern standards. They were all fitted with the Hope Anti-Jacknife Device which meant that the harder you braked the more rigid the vehicle became. One drawback was you could only go in a straight line once she had locked up as the steering becoming very rigid.

I had two serious accidents around this time, walking away from the first and only sustaining slight injuries in the second. Unfortunately both times my lorry was written off. But I’ve no doubt in my mind that certainly with the second accident, the Hope Anti-Jacknife Device saved our lives.

The first accident occurred around 1967 at a place called Streatley on the main A417 to Reading. It happened two days before Christmas on a Sunday. I had pulled away from the traffic lights at Streatley and had just about reached the legal limit of 40 mph. We had just passed Streatley Guest House over the brow of a hill when I saw an estate car on my side of the road which was overtaking an oncoming vehicle. I braked as hard as I could and tried to evade a head on crash by mounting the pavement. This wasn’t easy because the Michelins on the front refused to bite the kerb. When they eventually did it took all my effort to stop going through a hedge and down to the river. Also at the bottom of the dip there was a bus stop with a couple of people waiting there. They had nowhere to go, so it was up to me to try to get back on the road as soon as we had dodged the idiot flying towards us. The last vision I had before impact was of the other driver letting go of his steering wheel and crossing his hands in protection of his face.

The collision was fairly severe and I felt the floor of my cab buckle under my feet. We immediately jumped from our lorry to go to see the car and its occupants. I instructed the mate to direct the traffic around us while I tried to get the car door open. Initially it was jammed tightly shut but I succeeded in opening it. The first words I heard were those of a small boy who was sat on his mothers lap who in turn was sitting in the front passenger seat. He was complaining he couldn’t move his legs and my immediate thoughts were that the engine had gone through the bulk head and trapped him. On closer inspection it was apparent this wasn’t the case, thank goodness. His Dad, who was driving, had only broken a tooth and driven it into his lip but they all had cuts an bruises. All in all, considering the extensive damage to the front end of the car, they were very lucky.

I refrained from blaming him, saying only that I hoped he was insured because the lorry I was driving was brand new and had only travelled 12,000 kilometres. Con- sidering he had panicked and lost total control of his car I think I was very constrained with him, especially in view of the lies he was about to tell the Police when interviewed. We took them into the guest house and waited for medical attention to arrive, whereupon the woman started to scream that her baby was still in the wreck. We rushed out, opened the hatch and there among all the luggage was a carry cot with a tiny baby in it. It was totally oblivious to all the fuss, fast asleep and thankfully totally unhurt.

The Police, who had arrived and taken charge of the scene, suddenly came to me and asked if they could search my cab, which I thought strange, but readily agreed. When they had finished, I asked them why they had done it. Their reply staggered me as apparently the offending driver had accused me of having brandy in my cab. This, in view of the evasive action I had taken, that jeopardised our safety, as well as the people waiting for the bus, made me very angry. I can only assume that in his addled state when I said that my lorry was brand new he thought I had said something else. His wife, who had witnessed this episode, was ashamed of her husband and openly said so. She also thanked me for my presence of mind, attributing their safety to what she thought to be my coolness under pressure. About six months later the Police, who had come from Pangbourne station, on the route I always took, stopped me to say the car driver had been fined £200 and disqualified for one year for dangerous driving. Apparently they had been going to his mothers in Birmingham for Christmas. It could have been a really memorable time for all the wrong reasons, lucky people.

The second accident had far more serious consequences for all concerned. This happened about one year later. We were going to the Vine Road depot in Basingstoke. This route went through a small village called Sherbourne St John, between Aldermaston and Basingstoke. Just the other side of Sherbourne St John is a very steep hill, followed by a short dip, then up past a place called Park Pruett Hospital. In the bottom of this dip there used to be a cross roads, (now closed probably because of the danger it constituted). The right of way belonged to us with the side roads both being governed by halt signs. It was a long haul to get up the hill to so we gathered speed going down the dip in order to get up the other side. As we approached the cross roads we saw a lorry which turned out to be a new Bedford KN. It was pulling a large cast boat shaped trailer, full of granite chippings. He was travelling from Frome in Somerset to Reading and the name of the company who owned it was AJ Butler. He shot straight out over the halt sign, leaving a 47 foot skid mark from all six wheels, and rammed us squarely on my door. The fact I had seen him coming meant that I had time to apply the brakes, making the tractor unit and trailer rigid. The impact bent the chassis on my tractor four foot six out of track. It knocked me out, trapping me in my cab. Contrary to newspaper reports it was my mate that went out through the wind screen. I came to, looking through a mist of blood oozing from a large dent in my head where the corner post of the cab had hit me. I remember the roar of the engine which was still running on full throttle. The mountings had broken and it was hanging out the bottom of the lorry with the fuel lines still intact. The engine in an AEC Mercury was situated alongside you in the centre of the cab. My seat was embedded in the side of the engine cover and the clutch and brake pedals were bent over my feet trapping them.

The aftermath of Bob's chance meeting with a Bedford KN which failed to stop
at a crossroads "Halt" sign at Sherborne St John near Basingstoke.

A man was looking up at me through the broken windscreen, asking if I could get out. I managed to wriggle free and in great pain climbed out of the cab, where I promptly passed out again. When I did come too, my head was cradled in a man's lap who stopped me from touching it. I recall looking up at him, registering that he was covered in blood, my blood. He was a doctor from the nearby hospital I think I never managed to find out exactly who he was but I will always be grateful to him for his care. All in all, considering the huge impact of the crash, we were not too badly injured. My mate had hurt his back as he sailed into a hedge and I had broken a bone in my foot and hand and suffered concussion. The other driver had sustained a huge cut on his leg that had all but severed his muscle.

The ambulance arrived and took us to Battle hospital in Reading. My mother's words about always wearing clean underwear in case you have an accident came echoing back to me. While I was clean enough in that regard, my foot was really dirty. They had to cut my boot off because my foot was swollen. Before you run away with the wrong idea let me explain. My boots were almost brand new, but because I’d trodden on a piece of broken glass there was a large cut in the bottom of one of them. At that time footwear wasn’t supplied by Job's and protective work boots cost a lot of money. As I had only just bought a new pair I had wrapped a plastic bag round my foot, inside my boot, to try to keep it dry from the water that was always in the fridges. This strategy had failed and the dye had come out of the leather, so it was like an inky grunge that my foot was covered in. When I tried to explain, the nurse just smiled indulgently, saying that she had seen and heard it all before. I don’t think she believed me!

My lorry was so badly damaged It had to be brought back to the dairy on a low loader having been lifted on there by a crane. It was left over the back of the yard for the insurance assessors to look at. A close friend of mine went to have a look at it and was quite sick at the sight of the amount of blood everywhere, knowing it was mine. Both vehicles were total write-offs which wasn’t surprising, considering that we weighed some 28 tons and the other vehicle weighed 23 tons. With around 51 tons crash impact at an estimated 40 mph we were all very lucky I think. Obviously the responsibility lay with the other driver, who claimed he was a stranger to the route and that the hedges had obscured the Halt sign. This wouldn't have surprised me as the councils were pretty lax in cutting the hedges. The main thing was the Police believed him and he consequently got away without prosecution. Job's were quite happy as they got the insurance money, not just for the lorry but the load as well, including the substitute load that was on its way within hours. I did get some damages plus loss of wages. Because I had nothing lasting it was classed as pain and injury money and totalled £100. It was hard money because it bloody well hurt. I was black and blue for weeks!

I had no trouble driving again. You just deal with it and get on with it. The only reminder is a dent in my head where no hair grows. It didn’t make me any prettier though! The accident investigators that Hope sent were incredulous that we had held straight with the force of the impact. Desperation gives you the strength you need! The fact I had braked so hard enabled their excellent device to save our lives. Thank you Jack Hope.

There were drawbacks with the Anti-Jack-knife device. For instance if you took a bend too fast, resulting in harsh braking, the rigidity of the vehicle would sometimes make it really difficult to actually get round the bend.

I carried on working and playing at Job’s until the wages became so poor that I found it necessary to leave their employ. The rates of pay were still classed as agricultural so I only earned £20 0s 6d a week. To subsidise my income I had done another job on my days off for the last three years and I was tired of having to work so many days before I could get a rest. I wanted to work normally, like everyone else. It was almost 1969 by then and time for pastures new. At Job's Dairy it had always been an odd pattern for days off, this was necessary to cover what was then a seven day operation. The rest day rota worked as follows. Starting from a weekend you would have Saturday/Sunday/Monday off, work six days then Monday/Tuesday off, work six days then Tuesday/Wednesday off, work six days then Wednesday/Thursday off, work six days then Thursday/Friday off, work six days then Friday/Saturday/Sunday, work five days then back to start of the rota again and so on. Christmas Day and Boxing Day were just normal working days at the Dairy. You could take some holidays if you were quick enough to get in first, but I usually worked them. As you have probably gathered money was a continual worry and the time was fast approaching when I would have give in and get a different job.

To improve our lot, I had to leave Job’s employ, leaving all my other friends behind, to find work with a wage on which we could live. In April 1969 after a great deal of prevarication I made the move. Probably we were irresponsible, but we decided to take a short holiday with the extra money I received from the Job's system of working a week in hand. If I needed to work a week at my new job before I was paid we would be in trouble, but back then we didn’t think that far ahead.

Without a doubt Job's was the best working period of my life not just because we were all young (obviously helped), but I believe to this day that Job’s Dairy was an exemplary place to work.

The above contribution is a chapter from Bob's book entitled "An Ordinary Man (1943 onward to this present day) By R A J (Bob) Smith

Our grateful thanks to Bob for making this excerpt available for the Job's website.