G H Robinson's foundry: Fascinated by foundry machines

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Gerry Bentley, of Chaddesden, recalls how, determined not to get his hands dirty, he started work in the office of G H Robinson’s foundry, in Parcel Terrace, Rowditch, in 1935, but soon found himself envious of those working on the fascinating machinery and engineering equipment.

IN 1935 I had to leave Kedleston Road School and start my working life. I reported to the Employment Office in Becket Street to register. They asked me what I would like to do. I didn’t fancy getting my hands dirty, so I asked for office work.

I had to report to a G H Robinson’s foundry in Parcel Terrace, Rowditch. I walked from Quarn Street to have my interview still in short trousers. I got the job and started there as an office boy on 10 shillings (50p) for a five-and-a-half day week. My father let me keep my first week’s wage.

Going down Parcel Terrace, on the right-hand side was a long row of cottages. In the centre was a wide archway leading to their back gardens and the entrance to the foundry gates, situated where Lake, the builders’ merchant, is now.

On entering the premises, on the left was a reception office cum storeroom, where I worked. On the wall was a clocking-in machine for the workers, which was fascinating to me.

On the left side was the main foundry and machines that produced the rivets and bolts from the long steel rods that were delivered each week. I loved to watch them punch out the rivets.

At the bottom was the main office occupied by Mr Davies, the chief accountant, who wrote in beautiful copperplate handwriting. He was on £5 a week. There was a junior clerk called Mr Nix and another very large man who was in charge of production and workload.

At the right-hand side was another workshop which housed the millwrights’ shop under a Mr Wray. He had a wonderful lathe on which he produced the dies for the foundry presses.

I was fascinated by this and all the engineering equipment and used to watch them as often as possible, my office work declining daily.

My main job was keeping stock control envelopes in order, writing out the despatch labels, making tea and general errand boy, plus meeting visiting representatives.

The managing director was an elderly gentleman named Mr Orme, who drove a car and lived in a large house, Woodlands, on Uttoxeter Road, with a young housekeeper for whom I had to run errands.

During the very hot summers we had then, I was taken down to the ice factory in town to collect large blocks of ice which was made into lemon and barley water to distribute to the workers near the furnaces and in the forges.

The men were paid weekly. Each had an individual small can, about the size of a tin of beans, with the lid sealed but cut in half. Each can was stamped with their own work number and collected from the reception office window every Friday.

I got to know the couple who ran the corner Post Office quite well, visiting them daily for stamps etc. He ran a Christmas club and I joined it to get my mum a bottle of elderberry wine each Christmas. One year, he gave me a bottle of ginger wine free for myself.

After about three years, I was made redundant. They decided the junior clerk could do my work along with his own, so I was out of work.

I think seeing the engineering work in the foundry changed my job future for life. I was so interested in the lathes etc that my father, who worked at Rolls-Royce, asked if I would like to go there. I said “yes” straightaway.

In those days, it was a good friendly, family firm and I was taken on as a late apprentice. Once again, my father let me keep my first week’s wage.

After completing my apprenticeship in 1941, I got permission from the MoD to apply to leave and volunteered as air crew with the RAF.

In 1946, I returned to R-R after being demobbed to continue my career. I have no idea what happened to the Parcel Terrace cottages after the firm closed.