Author |
Brian Day |
Date Range |
1942 - 1943 |
Subject |
Commonwealth Employment Service; Edward Hallstrom; Hallstrom’s Refrigerator Factory; Trams; Willoughby; Working Conditions; World War II |
After picking peas for Uncle Bill Bush, my first job after leaving school was at Hallstrom’s Refrigerator Factory. In February 1942 I got my first job there as a welder. Miss Dorothy Downey, sister of Sam Downey, who lived in Lea Avenue, was my Sunday School teacher and held a high up position at the Commonwealth Employment Service. She told me that Hallstrom’s were always looking for workers and organised an interview for me with the company. I was interviewed by Miss Maides, a middle aged woman who was both efficient and officious. I attended the interview with my mother, Alma Day. I was told to report to the supervisor, Mr Richard McWilliam, the following Monday morning to start work. I was living with my parents at 41 Alleyne Street at the time, and rode my bicycle each day to the factory. It was very hard, tiring physical work for a 15 year old. I would ride my bike home each day and after eating dinner would collapse into bed ready to wake up early the next morning to repeat the whole process again. Other workers would catch the tram that stopped right outside the door of Hallstrom’s (Chatswood to Wynyard or Chatswood to Balmoral Tram or, in summertime only, there was a Chatswood to Taronga Zoo tram). Those who lived close by walked to work.
The factory was on the south-west corner of Artarmon and Willoughby Roads, Willoughby. There were no traffic lights at the intersection at that time. The conditions for workers at Hallstrom’s were very hard. It was a large tin factory with a cement floor with no heating in winter and no cooling in summer. I wore overalls to work (which I supplied myself) as there was no locker room. Hallstrom’s, however, supplied the tools we worked with – welding gear, hammers, etc. Mr Hallstrom did, however, put in a lunch room and canteen. You could buy a plate of meat with salad for one shilling and sixpence. I didn’t use it as I only earned $2.15 for a 44 hour week.
I was employed in the oxy welding section of the factory, which employed approximately twelve staff including the supervisor. I was the youngest in the section at the time, having newly arrived. I made friends with Tiny Rolands, who was a year older than me and liked to fight with his fists. Others in the section were Stan Douglass, Jim Stein, Bob Ross, Ray Thorpe, Jack Gadsby, Archie Pierce and Richard McWilliam, the then supervisor, who worked alongside everyone else. In addition, two girls were employed to weld pipes: Betty Kirk and Betty Jackson. Production was not organised by doing complete ‘jobs’ but by processes, with each section of the factory doing its part of the work in order to make each refrigerator. They were making six to seven refrigerators per week at that time, and as it was during the war, all of their work was for the military, which in the welding section included manufacture of refrigerators, caterpillar tracks for Bren Gun Carriers and fittings for carrying bombs on aeroplanes. Refrigerators were not made available for sale to the general public, the whole of production being for the military and the war effort. We were told to “get on with it, there’s a war on, you know”.
There they taught me how to weld, a skill I was to use for the rest of my working life. At that time we worked an 8 ¾ hour day from 7.30am until 5pm – 44 hours a week. I was paid 21 shillings and sixpence a week. My mother and I were told that I would be paid 25 shillings a week at the interview. However, when I received my first pay packet, I had only earned 21 shillings and sixpence. My mother was concerned that I was being taken advantage of by the company.
After working there a few months I was working alongside and doing as much work as a grown man who was paid £7 a week. My supervisor at the time, Archie Pierce, spoke to the boss about me without my knowledge and suggested that due to the amount and quality of my work, my wage be raised. The boss agreed and my wage was more than doubled to two pounds six shillings a week. Still far short of the £7, but I was delighted.
After 12 months at Hallstrom’s I left to commence an apprenticeship at Cockatoo Dock Yards. I had been able to secure an interview with Mr George Rowe, the work’s manager at Cockatoo Dockyards, a crusty old bachelor, through a member of my mother’s church, Mr Morton, for an apprenticeship to become a boilermaker. I did not hear back for some time and thought I had not secured a position. In mid-January 1943 I received a letter that I had been successful. Being during the war a move to another company needed to be approved so I presented my letter to Miss Maides on a Monday telling her that I was giving my notice and would be leaving on the Friday to start at Cockatoo on the following Monday. The next I knew Mr Hallstrom himself came down to see me on the factory floor and told me I could not leave because I was essential – there was a war on. Mr Hallstrom was a large man who always wore a brown suit and thick glasses, and drove a Ford car. He was known as a hard task master.
Following my discussions with Mr Hallstrom I rode my bicycle to the Commonwealth Employment Service office during lunch time to see Mr Lumsdaine who was fortunately in his office at the time. He listened to my story about Mr Hallstrom not being willing to give me an apprenticeship or to release me to work at Cockatoo Island. Mr Lumsdaine immediately said “if Mr Hallstrom won’t release you, I will!” and he promptly wrote and signed a letter of release. I returned to Hallstrom’s with the letter in hand and waved it in front of them and instructed them to organise my final pay. They were forced to release me to work at Cockatoo and as they say, the rest is history!