Ministry of National
Insurance in Ipswich starting September 1946
The same week my father started his work, I had the results of my Civil
Service Examinations. I had passed both the Clerical Assistant and
Clerical Officer examinations with flying colours. The Clerical Officer was
the superior grade, so I was offered a post in this grade. I could not
choose which department to which I would be assigned, but was asked to list
the towns of my choice. I put Colchester at the top of the list and Ipswich
second. Ipswich was a longer journey from our house. It meant three-
quarters of an hour each way on the bus, and a good twenty minutes walk to
the bus stop, including a steep hill.
Mother had advised me not to put Ipswich on my list but to stick to
Colchester only, but I had been afraid that there would not be a vacancy in
Colchester for an established Clerical Officer in the Civil Service.
My heart sank a little when I was assigned to the Ministry of National
Insurance in Ipswich. I had to be out of the house by 7.30 am each
morning, so I was very glad that Dad was waking me up at 6.30 with tea. As
he stood and waited for the Colchester bus, I would start walking down
Cox's Hill to catch the Ipswich bus near Manningtree Station, outside a
Farmer's Co-operative Office. I often wondered what sort of work they did
in there. To begin with the walk was pleasant. September air was balmy
and I never once missed the 8 am bus. I arrived at the office just before 9
am, so the other staff were pleased. On my first day, I was introduced to
our manager, called Mr Freear. He had a separate room and the principal
event of my day was being taught to make his tea. He had a silver tray, a
tea-pot with a silver cover, two cups, and a separate sugar bowl and milk-
jug which was filled freshly each day, from the bottle left on the step of
the office.
The four clerks in the office took turns in doing this. The other main
job was keeping the coal fire in the outer office well banked-up.
What dismayed me was the lack of work. The post came each morning and
was opened by the clerk who had worked there the longest. She was engaged
to be married to someone called Geoff and kept talking about him. Then
there was a daily squabble about who should do the small amount of work
available. This was an absolute contrast from my experience in the
Telephone Accounts Department which had always been overflowing with work.
The Clerical Officers were Barbara, Eileen, myself and Mr Frindle.
Somehow it was the custom to call junior women by their first names and
junior men more formally. But the manager always called me Miss Martin. I
never heard him use a first name.
Mr Frindle, recently demobilised from the Forces was about 25.
Surprisingly he was an expert typist and could type at about 50 words per
minute, an astonishing speed on the manual typewriters of that period. I
could type only with two fingers, so I did not get any of that work.
Eileen was the official typist. There was only enough work to keep her
occupied for half a day, so as she had been there for two years, and Mr
Frindle had only just arrived, he did not get much typing to do.
We talked a lot to pass the time.
Mr Freear wanted his old staff to continue to do the routine work, so
Mr Frindle and I had very little to do. We were given about thirty
different information sheets to study by Mr Freear, who told us he would
set an informal examination for the two of us in about three months' time.
Soon we knew those forms almost by heart. The office was boring as we were
not allowed to open a book or read a newspaper, even when we could find
absolutely nothing else to do.
We had to sit and look "busy" in case there were any visitors to the
office.
Tea-break at 11 am was an interesting diversion. Sometimes one of the
two Executive Officers came in for tea. There were two of these, Miss
Tanton a recent University Graduate and Miss Knowles, a woman in her
fifties who had just returned from service in the Indian Civil Service. I
met quite a few senior staff who had returned from India.
India sounded dangerous. Miss Knowles liked to talk about her
experiences there.
"One day," she said, "a rabid dog got into the compound and bit my dog.
Then my dog turned round and bit me. As a precaution, I had to go into
hospital for a full set of injections. These were very painful, being
injections into the stomach.
Then we had to wait six months, to see if we were all right. I was
very lucky, as I was all right. There was someone else there who died. She
stayed in the hospital six months and thought that she was all right as no
symptoms had appeared. Then one day someone brought her a cup of tea and
she could not swallow it. That was the first symptom. It was very sad, as
we all thought she would be all right."
Luckily Miss Knowles stopped talking about that subject, as it was
beginning to upset me. I wondered why the injections did not always
prevent the rabies but did not enquire, as we clerks rarely initiated
conversations with the Executive Officers, but just listened to what they
had to say.
But I did say, " It was lucky that it was your own dog that bit you and
not the strange dog."
The cold winter of 1946/1947
Mostly it is the snow which I remember. The winter of 1946/1947 was the
severest I had experienced either in London or East Anglia. Snow covered
the ground from about November and it did not begin to
melt until the following March. [See
weather
reports: snow came in mid-December 1946 and returned in January
1947, lasting to mid-March]
When November began and the snows came, I started to wear Wellington
boots to walk through the snow. Dad thought they were the right things to
wear but I did not like them. Inside I wore nothing but thin lisle
stockings and these did nothing to protect my feet against the cold. A
pair of man's socks would have solved the problem, but I did not think of
this, and in any case, they were unobtainable either through convention, or
through lack of even small items of extra clothing. My top coat was warm
enough, and I could walk quickly but my feet started to give me pain, which
did not ease up until I was seated on the bus. In the evenings,
fortunately, I did not have to repeat the walk back up the hill, because a
bus travelling uphill in the direction of Colchester passed by a few
minutes after the Ipswich bus arrived. I was usually home by twenty
minutes to seven. It was a long day. I spent eleven hours out of the
house. The odd thing was that during that time I had not done much actual
work, merely fulfilled bureaucratic requirements.
The new Clerical Officers in the Ministry of National Insurance were
assured that there would be fulfilling work for them once the new National
Insurance Act became law. The trouble was that we had a year to wait. We
had been taken on twelve months in advance in preparation for this new Act.
I became more and more disillusioned with the Civil Service as the year
progressed. Mr Frindle also expressed his disappointment. One day he said,
"When I went home I chopped some wood and that was the only real work I had
done all day. It made me feel better."
Nevertheless, we were getting paid. I don't think I was paid more than
three pounds per week. Fifteen shillings went on bus fares and lunches. I
gave my mother one pound. Ten shillings were deducted for National
Insurance and tax. I had fifteen shillings to spend.