大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by (Helen Smith) on behalf of (Marian Wild) and has been added to the site with his/her permission. The author fully understands the site鈥檚 terms and conditions.

Mentally I was a very young, very innocent 17 year old when I entered engineering in 1940. I failed miserably at the first simple task, scrapping burrs off machinery, then I asked to become a crane-driver. My first day (and only day) of tuition was frightening, the crane was so high, the ladder so unapproachable and the cabin so small; but after two days I loved it.

The foundry work was the most awe-inspiring aspect of the job. To lift that huge crucible of molten metal, one spark of which would burn through a man's flesh in no time. Then to pour it, oh so gently into the moulds. The smell was overpowering, as was the heat, but what a sense of achievement when it was over without a single accident.

My big day was when I saved my first huge machine from crashing because my slinger had miscalculated it's size. i am afraid I was unbearably proud. That machine is still probably working it's heart out in Russia to this day.

Although I was happy when the men returned home and claimed back their jobs, a part of me would still love to be in that crane.

Just a little appendix:- The men on the shop floor forgot me in my overload crane when they had a dispute, so I left possessing possibly the most comprehensive vocabulary of swear words known to the human race. (English of course)

Heigh Ho for innocence:

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