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  Issue No 15 Official Organ of LaborNet 28 May 1999  

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History

Proud to be a Member

By Mark Hearn

Retired transport workers remind young members of the struggles which produced the benefits they now enjoy.

 
 

Les Myers: Retired TWU Stalwart

The Transport Workers Union has just produced a new history of the union, "Proud to be a TWU Member", based on interviews with retired TWU members.

NSW TWU Secretary Tony Sheldon says the aim of the project was to let TWU members speak for themselves about their working lives, and to allow younger generations of TWU members to understand just how tough it was for workers and unions to win even basic improvements in pay and conditions - and how those hard-won gains need to be fiercely protected.

It's a history about the members' own working experiences and typically, defines the TWU's attitude of who the union is - the members.

"We must keep a memory of their struggle alive", Sheldon insists, "to remind everyone on the job today that Peter Reith wants to destroy the vital achievements of those unionists." "Proud to be a TWU Member" is available through the NSW TWU and was put together by labour historians Harry Knowles and Mark Hearn. Below, retired TWU member Les Myers, who is featured in the book, tells his story.

"What time does the sun come up?"

Les Myers and life on the bone waggon

Like most young boys of his generation, Les Myers left school to start working life at the age of 13. Born in Redfern, New South Wales in 1904, Les�s first job was with Anthony Hordens in Sydney, where he swept floors and took parcels to the delivery section. However his career in the retail trade was cut-short when he was dismissed for being outside the premises without permission during working hours.

It was Les�s mother who foresaw his future career as a truck driver and tried, unsuccessfully at first, to get him into the �motor game� in a parts manufacturer at Camperdown. That didn't last long, and he moved on to a tannery near what is now Kingsford-Smith Airport but was sacked soon after, following a strike there by members of the Wool and Basil Workers� Union. It was a tough introduction to industrial relations. "I got the arse from there. I had to go on strike with them. I was only a bloody kid! I didn't know what to do." Finally, he found work at J. Kitchens and Sons (which became Lever and Kitchen, and eventually Unilever) factory in Bourke Road, Alexandria. "It was a big industry", as Les remembers. Kitchens manufactured a range of products - soap and soda washing crystals, margarine - rendered from animal fat and bones. Put simply, from butcher's left-overs.

It was at Kitchens, still only aged 13, that Les learnt to drive, although there was no "petrol power" in those days. In 1917, the road transport industry in Sydney was still dominated by the horse and dray. Kitchens had up to 150 horses, usually worked in pairs on delivery waggons. In addition to his normal duties as a driver�s off-sider, picking up caul fat for processing by the company ("they used to make margarine out of it"), Les worked on Sundays to learn the art of driving a waggon, out in Kitchens paddocks. Les would also help groom and care for the horses. From 6 am until 6 pm, he got 10 shillings for a Sunday's work. Les loved the horses: he would always sneak them a little corn and oats for their lunch.

Les was only 14 or 15 when he was given the job of driving a bone waggon. Les worked a five and a half day week, working his way around the abbatoirs and butchers shop's picking up the bones and fat, left in baskets at the rear of the premises. It was not uncommon to be followed out of the yard by a procession of fowls picking up the maggots which fell from the baskets. On less busy days, the wagon would be pulled by two horses; on the busy Mondays and Fridays a leader was added to pull the heavier loads. The leader made Les's work a little easier. "All you had to do was watch where the leader went. He'd work alright for you."

Les can still remember the name of his favourite: "Yellow, a big Clydesdale, he was a beautiful horse." Yellow was a lead horse, and if he saw weeds around the base of a telegraph pole he would always stop, oblivious to the circumstances or the trouble he caused. So learning the tricks of the trade were important. For instance, if the lead horse slackened off, the driver would take several pieces from the small pile of blue metal which was kept on the cart and flick the metal against the horse�s rear end to encourage it to pick up the pace.

Working conditions were tough. Asked what time he started the working day, harnessing the team to the wagon, Les responded: "what time does the sun come up?" Work went on until all the tasks of the day were completed. There was no payment for overtime. "You'd work all bloody hours". Yet "if you came in five minutes late they docked you quarter of an hour".

There was never enough time, as Les recalls: "your watch was your boss". Out on the road, he had to keep to a tight schedule. "If you were only five minutes late getting somewhere, it would put you about half an hour late [for the next job]. The traffic didn't move fast enough. He was my boss, the clock. If I wasn't there at quarter to eight or quarter to nine, or whatever it might be, I'd be a quarter of an hour late and I've got two shops I've got to do, I've missed. And I'm that far back, behind."

When he first joined Kitchens, Les recalls "I wasn't allowed to join the union". The company could easily intimidate a youngster wanting to hold down a job. The TWU's organiser was also denied entry to the premises. The organiser could only meet members "out on Bourke Road, outside the building". Eventually, union pressure forced the company to concede "the privilege" of meeting in the yard.

There was no allowance for sick leave. There was, however, compensation paid for workplace accidents. One day, Les scratched his arm on a fore-quarter of beef. It was a only a tiny wound, "the size of a pinhead." It soon became infected. "Me arm started to ache like buggery". His mother took him during the night to the local doctor, "who couldn't get me to the hospital quick enough." In the days before pencilin and antibiotics, an infected wound was often life-threatening. "They opened it up and shoved gauze into the wound to keep it open and weeping. I got paid for that because I was working for the company."

The union eventually came to Kitchens. Les was recruited into the TWU in 1928. He joined because he became convinced union membership would be to his benefit, and he made an effort to convince his mates. He was a workplace delegate for a while and collected union subscriptions, attending night meetings at the Trades� Hall perhaps a few times a year. There was too much pressure of work for him to treat these meetings as a social occasion. When the meeting was over, he "...couldn't get away from them quick enough. Had to get up too bloody early the next morning". Les also remembers his difficulty in getting the union dues from the members, who had little spare money. Les would pay another member's subscription from his own pocket, if the member was in financial troubles. Sometimes, they just wanted to keep the weekly sub - a few shillings - for a couple of schooners at the pub.

There were no strikes during Les� time at Kitchens (well over thirty years) and he remembers that for the most part workers did what �you were told�. Looming over their working lives was threat of the sack. "You had no control over it. If you spoke out of turn, the gate would be up and you'd be finished." His boss, Transport Manager Jack McCormack, was not a harsh man. Les remembers him as "a good bloke, knew everything about transport". He gave Les a good reference when Les left Kitchens. Yet McCormack could also be unforgiving of those who, in his view, let the company down. "He'd sack you. If you were on the right track, he'd prop you up 'til the day you died."

When Les graduated to truck driving in the late 1920s, he began on 30cwt Internationals and Model T Fords. Les worked mostly around the metropolitan area, working from six in the morning until as late as 9 pm as night. He considered himself lucky, working right through the Great Depression and the Second World War, the routine of his job enduring right through those tremendous crises. "I never stopped working. There were too many work days on the calendar".

Les remembers the war years well. Kitchens trucks were on standby during the grim days of early 1942, when many Australians feared invasion by the Japanese, whose advance had brought them half-way across Papua New Guinea, on Australia's northern doorstep. Kitchens trucks would be used in case the rapid evacuation of civilians was required. Drivers like Les were also on call, allocated various areas outside the metropolitan Sydney to take civilians if a mass evacuation became necessary.

There was an allocation of only two gallons a petrol a week during the War years. Most of the driving Les undertook was in vehicles which employed "gas producers" as a fuel source. The gas producers were fixed behind the truck cabin - basically a large drum, a burner powered by charcoal. The burners were potentially dangerous: Les can still recall the night he was parked in Ashfield - working late again - when a young lad emerged from the nearby cinema and placed his hand on the red hot producer. The lad received serious burns to his hand.

On a lighter side, Les (a self-confessed larrikin ) once convinced the foreman that more power could be obtained from the gas producer by burning sheep heads which the foreman mistakenly believed Les had placed into the burner. Later that day the irate foremen quizzed Les on the amount of extra horsepower Les had told him to expect (�About a mile an hour.�): �You little bastard� said the foreman, �We didn�t get any miles an hour and all the bloody trucks were late!�

Relations between the police and truck drivers was generally good, although Motorcycle police were always on the look-out for trucks parked illegally and would not hesitate to book an offending driver. This was a costly business for drivers with Kitchens because the company refused to pay the fines. Police on point duty were more sympathetic towards truckies. Les remembers one in King Street, Newtown, called �the Black Prince�. He would always wave Les through, stopping the other traffic. Les would always give �the Black Prince� bones for his dog.

There was one occasion when Les failed to escape the long arm of the law. He was booked for not covering his load. Les hadn�t attached the tarpaulin because it was a nuisance for drivers who made frequent stops. He was fined �10, a lot of money in those days. To this day, Les resents the company's refusal to pay the fine for him: "You know you've got a tarp; use it!" Les claims he was saving Kitchens time and money by not having to crawl up and down the truck each time he stopped.

Les is 93 years old now, and still holds a driver�s licence. He is still a member of the Transport Workers� Union. He has a good recall of his working life with J. Kitchens and Sons, but is less bothered about dates and years. They didn't matter. "Years didn't count them days. All you had was a job; and you had to look after your job. If you didn't have a job you had no bread on the table." That was the pressure he, and his work mates, had to live with.


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*   Do you know any retired union members with a story to tell?

*   View entire issue - print all of the articles!

*   Issue 15 contents

In this issue
Features
*  Interview: Back to the Grassroots
Trade union trainer Jill Biddington looks at old problems through a new lens. Her message: talk to the workers.
*
*  Unions: TWU: The Workplace Union
Ring Tony Sheldon, State Secretary of the NSW Transport Workers Union, and if you don't get through straight away you're told it's because "I'm organising members at the moment".
*
*  History: Proud to be a Member
Retired transport workers remind young members of the struggles which produced the benefits they now enjoy.
*
*  Indigenous: Nowhere to Run, Nowhere to Hide
Australia's treatment of its indigenous people is a problem that won't go away.
*
*  Review: Popcorn Goes for the Crunch
A Sydney production attempts to bring Ben Elton's satire of film-shplatt cinema to life.
*
*  Labour Review: What's New at the Information Centre
View the latest issue of Labour review, Labour Council's fortnightly update on industrial issues.
*
*  Health: Being Lead Astray
Workers in a range of occupations are exposed to lead and are not being made aware of the hazards
*

News
»  Labor Council Unveils New Public Face
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»  Revealed: New, Meaner Breed of Body Hire
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»  Unions Wins Own Safety Prosecution
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»  Timor Protest Calls for UN Troops
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»  Pay Equity Jitters as Report Gathers Dust
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»  Paid Maternity Leave: One Step Forward - One Step Back
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»  Court Victory for PNG Workers
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»  First For Union With Multicultural Arts Grant
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»  Cleaners Clean Up In Backpay Bonanza
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»  Unions Join Sorry Ceremony
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Columns
»  Guest Report
*
»  Sport
*
»  Trades Hall
*
»  Piers Watch
*

Letters to the editor
»  Concern at Timor Attitudes
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