The day war ended

I had to follow this older bloke up these ladders -- just me and him clambering up all these ladders, up to the roof -- till we got to the very highest bit of Hick Hargreaves.

Then we planted the Union Jack on the peak, and below us we could hear everyone in the works-yard startin' cheerin'.

You could look out all over Bolton, and see flags fluttering from rooftops and from the tallest chimneys, and all the church bells were ringing. And that were the day the war ended. On the 11th day of the 11th month, at the 11th hour, 1918.

There weren't no work doin' for the rest of that day. They'd be sending us home early. So I sat on the roof for a bit lookin' out over Bolton. I were 13 and I had me life all ahead of me.

Now It's the 1920s, an' it's the Great Strike, an' there's a lorra folk outa work. Big gangs of us are tekin' ourselves down t' the dole fer signin' on. Three days a week we go. Mondays, Wednesdays, Thursdays. Then they give yet 10 shillins or 15 shillins or whatever it is -- I can't remember now.

One Friday I turn up at the dole an' they tell me 'Next Monday, y' goin' t' have t' go in front of a Court o' Referees.'

So, the next Monday, I've done what they say. I turn up t' Court o' Referees, an' I'm sittin' there on me own, waitin' in this big room wi' a big long table in it. An' then three people -- three referees -- come in, far end o' the room, an' they sit down, wi'out sayin' nowt t' me.

Then they start firin' questions at me. Me name an' address. An' if I've served me time as an apprentice. An' what work I've bin doin' before. An' what me wages were, when I were workin'.

An' then last thing, reet at th'end, they ask me who I'm livin' wi'. I tell 'em how it is -- how I've lost both me parents, like, an' now I'm livin' wi' me two sisters.

Then they say t' me, 'Well, son, I'm afraid from next Monday we're stoppin' your dole, an' them two sisters of yours are goin' have fo't keep yer.'

What? I'm just starin' at 'em, an' I don't know what t' say.

Think about it -- a young lad o' 22, an' not a penny t' me name. An' there they are, expectin' me two sisters t' keep me.

I'm not havin' it. I'm not. But I don't know what t' say to 'em. So I go off home t' me sisters.

When I've got home, I have a think. I go t' this cubbyhole undert stairs, an' I get out me brother's tools. I'd this brother bin killed int' First World War, an' he were a cobbler, a shoemaker. He'd left his tools behind him when he went t' war. That were 10 years back now, but his tools are still here.

He could do wonders wi' a needle, me brother, an' there's no way I could ever stitch like him. I couldn't. But I'd watched him at his trade. I remember watchin' him, workin' his trade

So I go off t' Woolworths, an' I buy three-penn'orth o' leather, or six-penn'orth o' leather, I can't remember which now. Woolworths then were a threepenny or sixpenny store, an' it were good leather y' got,

I've made me mind up what I'm goin' do. I'm goin' set meself up as a cobbler. I'll use me brother's tools, an' I'll sole shoes an' heel 'em.

Now, bein' an engineer by trade, way I mend shoes is way an engineer 'ud mend shoes -- it's not like a proper cobbler 'ud do it, but I don't know no better.

What I do is -- first, I mark out where me little nails have t' go, an' then I get all me little nails all even, an' then I hammer me sole on, an' then I hammer me heels on. So that's how I do it. I don't know how cobblers do it, but my way worked.

Course, I couldn't never finish shoes off like me brother could -- 'cos he'd served his time at it.

Any road, shoes I'd do for about one an sixpence, an' some I'd do for one an' nine pence, so I were able t' make a bit o' profit on that. An' so I could give summat t' me sisters, doin' that.

After that, what I did, I asked me sisters if I could put a notice int' window. Then I got this notice printed up, an' it were sayin' as I'd repair gramophones an' sewin' machines an' bicycles -- owt like that.

An' sometimes I'd be earnin' a shillin', or two shillin' a week, doin' that an' all. So I were able t' give all that t' me sisters, an' all.

Next thing, these little crystal sets come out -- little radio sets they were, called crystal set. Y' was able t' purchase 'em in bits, so I got me mate, what I'd served me time wi', an' we made them little crystal sets.

We made 'em ourselves. Very very simple they were, ours, but we made 'em. An' they sold alright.

Later on, we got better at it, 'cos first we made one volt sets, an' then two volt sets. Then, after that, we got the idea o' puttin' radio aerials up int back streets, so neighbours could pick up radio-signals.

So we'd borrow ladders, an' we'd string aerial-cables all across back streets, then we'd ran the cable down the walls an' down drainpipes an' right in t' neighbours' houses. They could pick up radio signals then.

An' so we earned a few shillin' doin' that an' all.

So that's how I were able t' give a bit t' me sisters. A bit here. An' a bit there. I did it in bits, y' see? An' it all added up.

So that's wor I did int 1920s when them three buggers, I shouldn't say that. When them three referees, stopped me dole."