You Call, We Haul E-Book

Mat Ireland

• Herausgeber: Old Pond Books
• Kategorie: Lebensstil
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Seitenzahl: 191

Beschreibung

Best known for founding international haulier, Trans UK, Bob Carter was involved in the ground-breaking changes occurring in British transport of the 60s and 70s. Beginning in the army, where he witnessed nuclear testing on Christmas Island in the 1950s, Carter went on to be a driver, office worker, and, finally, company owner. Never afraid to get his hands dirty, Bob was able to turn his hand to any aspect of his business operation, from repairing mechanical defects to operating forklifts, and driving his own trucks. In 1975, he set out on Trans UK's maiden run to Iran in his Humber Sceptre with four of his trucks in convoy-the first trip of many for the company. The denationalization of BRS and the implementation of the 'O' licence, the rapid growth of privately owned haulage companies, combined with the Middle East oil boom of the 70s, all helped Bob to develop a successful British and international transport operation. Including nearly 300 previously unpublished photos, You Call, We Haul is an inspirational story which will appeal to those with an interest in the heyday of Middle-East travel, and those with a general love of great British transport companies. [Subject: Middle East Studies, Transportation, Biography]

Leseprobe

YOU CALL, WE HAUL

The Life and Times of Bob Carter

Mat Ireland

CONTENTS

Title PageDedicationForeword  Bob Carter, the Early YearsThe Family BusinessSeawheel, Breaking the MouldTrans UK, a Step into the UnknownWhat the Drivers Have to SayThe Aftermath  Copyright

This book is dedicated to the Trans UK drivers who are no longer with us

FOREWORD

I want to thank Mat and Simon personally for their unrelenting energy and enthusiasm on this whole project. I never envisioned when Mat arranged the reunion back in 2005 that this would have come about as a result; it was a magical evening to see the drivers again after all the years.

To me, those dozen or so who did the Middle East work for me cannot be praised highly enough. Without them, Trans UK would have been just another container haulier from Felixstowe. Mat is now the closest thing to one of my Middle East boys with his travels in a truck. If he had been a young man back then knocking on my door for a job, there is no doubt in my mind that I would have taken him on – sometimes you just get a sense or good feeling about someone, and that rings true about him.

Bob Carter Ipswich, September 2016

I first heard of Mat Ireland in 1999. At the time he was working for Haven Logistics at Felixstowe as an import clerk. I was Karl ‘Fluff’ Freeman’s night shunter, an owner driver who was pulling ro-ro trailers on behalf of Haven. His girlfriend at that time was Haven’s traffic planner. Fluff suggested Mat and I would get on well together as we had a common interest in trucks. We wrote to each other, initially exchanging notes and photographs, before we actually met in person.

Mat had previously attended college with Lewis Rowlands, whose father Paul is a veteran of the overland runs to the Middle East. Paul went on to write his memoirs in a book called Not All Sunshine and Sand. Mat was a catalyst in this project. He has a fascination with long distance road haulage. It was through Lewis and Paul that Mat organized a reunion for ex-Trans UK Director Bob Carter and as many ex-employees as could be contacted. This occurred at The Douglas Bader pub on Martlesham Heath on Saturday, 19 November 2005. Mat encouraged me to attend the reunion. I had met Bob Carter once when he was in the Melton HQ of his brothers’ firm, W. Carter Haulage. I knew Mervyn Woollard, having worked with him at Russell Davies, and I knew the names Fred Grimble, Keith Williams and Mick Coombes from contacts in the haulage industry. I was surprised Geoff White, who then worked for trailer operator Autocontex, was there. At the time it was my largest DGSA client. I had no idea Geoff used to work for Trans UK in the administration department. It was well attended, which shows the high regard Bob’s ex-employees still hold for him. Keith Williams came over from Belgium especially.

Bob kindly paid for a buffet, which we all enjoyed. It was a great evening and Bob was visibly quite overwhelmed with the whole thing. So many people made an effort to come nearly twenty-five years since his companies had ceased trading! Mat created an opportunity to reunite so many old friends and gave others a further opportunity to make some new ones.

Bob asked me if I could create something on Trans UK in 2012. I had so many commitments that I simply did not have time. I had my own small fleet of trucks then, which never allowed me any free time for myself. Mat said he would ‘have a go’ but was a bit daunted by the project. I said I would help him in every way I could. It has been made harder by his job as, working with Transam Trucking doing concert tours, he is away for literally months at a time.

Being involved in the creation of this has been magical. Bob Carter alone is a living legend. He has become a good friend along with several other drivers. I’ve only met ‘Smudger’ Smith three times. Gerry Keating I have never met at all but, listening to their taped interviews, I do not feel a stranger.

It is sad that ‘Taffy’ John Dinwiddy died while driving a truck for Bob Carter and Micky Prigg, Mervyn Woollard and Fred Grimble have all passed away since the 2005 reunion.

Bob’s photographs and passion for what he has achieved in his life are the core of what we have put together here – we could not write things down fast enough. He went from tea boy to running his own fleet of more than forty trucks, and then into the aftermath of Trans UK. In 2016 he still works part-time in the office of the fleet department for Argos, doing the deliveries to houses, aged 78. He wouldn’t be beaten by anything. There is some irony in semi-retirement as he lives in the same bungalow he grew up in as a child, having seen a lot of the world in between and experienced much. I was aged just 10 when Trans UK ceased trading but I can still vividly recall Bob’s Fiats and the grey, red, black and white livery. Being introduced to Bob’s brother, ‘Wardy’, in 2015 was a special day. To have got close to some of the men that made this happen has been a privilege and an honour.

I am proud to call these men my friends and share in their achievements. This book needs to be created for a current generation to share and future generations to learn from. Going to Turkey in a Volvo F86? A touch of insanity required I think!

Remember, modern day life cannot continue without trucks. Empty factories. Empty shops.

Simon Waspe Ipswich, September 2016

L–R: Lenny Balaam, Mick Prigg, ‘Smudger’ Smith, Mervyn Woollard, Mick Coombes, Paul Rowlands, Ray Rainham, Keith Williams, Fred Grimble. Seated: Brian Wales & Bob Carter.

BOB CARTER, THE EARLY YEARS

ROBERT LESLEY ‘BOB’ CARTER WAS BORN ON 2 JULY 1938 in Melton, Suffolk. One of five children, his Father Lesley owned a small local haulage company that operated out of The Cherry Tree pub in Bromeswell, a couple of miles down the road.

He was educated firstly at Melton village school, and then at a school in Ipswich. He didn’t enjoy his time in education, preferring to be working with his hands on something mechanical.

The family haulage company at The Cherry Tree pub at Bromeswell, 1957.

“The best time for me was the school holidays, when I could hang around my dad’s haulage yard,” he recalled. “One favourite highlight for me would be when me and my brothers used to go with dad to Rush Green Motors for him to look at second-hand trucks. ‘Tubby’ Green, the owner, used to give us a pound note and tell us to, “Bring the old bugger back again!”

In 1953, at the age of 15, Bob left school and started working for the family company as a yard boy, making tea and running errands on his bike.

“It was like getting paid for what I used to do in the school holidays! Back in those days you didn’t really think about what career path you were going to follow when you left school. For example, if your dad was a bricklayer, you could end up being a bricklayer, or a chef’s son might follow his father’s profession, that’s just how it was. So it didn’t even cross my mind about doing anything other than getting involved in the family company,” says Bob.

A large amount of Carter’s work involved tipper trucks working on the local RAF base at Bentwaters, and Bob would often go and spend the day up there driving a small tipper truck. As he was driving on private land, having no licence was not an issue.

This was the time when National Service was still compulsory, and Bob’s signup date was looming. However, if you were involved in a job of national importance, i.e. agriculture or coal mining, you could apply for special dispensation to exempt you, something a number of the local farmers’ children had claimed.

I was 17 and decided that as I enjoyed working on heavy vehicles the most suitable job for me would be in the REME

Bob decided that rather than be conscripted into a job in the Army that he didn’t have any interest in, he would sign up early of his own accord, which would then enable him to choose his own career path.

“I was 17 and decided that as I enjoyed working on heavy vehicles the most suitable job for me would be in the REME (Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers)”.

Having been accepted, Bob was sent to Blandford Forum in Dorset for his basic training, and on completion he was then temporarily posted to Taunton in Somerset, before being moved to Herford in Germany for his first proper posting in a Light Aid Detachment, or LAD: 118 Company RASC.

Depending on Army requirements, Bob’s LAD was attached to various REME companies. It was tasked with things such as escorting convoys in case of breakdowns and covering general repairs.

Bob’s attitude to life was slightly different to a lot of people in that many will tell you to “never volunteer for anything”, but he was just the opposite.

“If there were courses coming up, I would always volunteer to go on them. For example, I completed a fuel injection course in Duisburg, followed by a heavy plant course back in Bordon, Hampshire, which enabled me to get back to England for a little while. My view was it would be useful to maximize my mechanical knowledge while someone else was paying for it!”

Bob, back row, third from the right, after completion of a course at his posting at Taunton.

Back in Germany, after completing his courses, he was driving in the Harz mountains on an Army recovery job and thought he would give his sergeant a bit of a scare.

Driving a Scammell Pioneer recovery truck, more commonly known by anyone who drove one as a ‘pot boiler’, while towing two Austin K9 ‘wireless wagons’, he decided to take it out of gear and get up a little bit more speed. Scammells generally had a top speed of around 28mph, although the drivers would often attach a piece of string on to the throttle that would take it up to about 35mph.

As the speed increased, Bob realized that he was struggling to get it back into gear and the vehicle was accelerating out of control! Luckily for Private Bob Carter, with his local knowledge of the roads he managed to steer it into an escape lane and bring the lot to a stop. His plan had worked, and the sergeant was scared witless, as was Bob!

Austin K5 loaded with bridging equipment on manoeuvres in Germany. They were nicknamed ‘Austin screamers’ due to the loud transmission whine they gave off when being driven.

The Army barracks at Herford.

Bob and his colleagues posing on a Scammell in Germany.

Bob on a day off in the local town of Bad Salzuflen, near to his base at Herford, Germany.

Bob with a Commer-cabbed Ford Thames V8 petrol engine truck on manoeuvres in the German forest.

An action shot Bob took of his colleague’s Scammell.

Bob, in the centre, at Paddington station en route to Christmas Island. To his left is Ray Wilson, who became a close friend and work colleague.

A day out to the German grand prix at the Nürburgring, 1957.

The pits at Nürburgring.

The Qantas Super Constellation that Bob flew on as far as Hawaii. The plane suffered from several minor troubles, delaying their overall travel time by a few days.

The main REME workshops, Christmas Island, which was to be Bob’s new home for the next year.

Bob at Goose Bay, Labrador, Canada.

Another view of the garage.

Ever cab happy, Bob at the wheel of a Scammell before taking it on a road test after repairs. The truck was coupled to a Tasker low-loader with ‘four in line’ axles at both ends of the trailer.

Bob, third from left, with his new work colleagues. Taken outside ‘C’ section, which was where heavy vehicles and plant equipment were repaired.

Bob seen here with a Bedford RL, taken inside the Royal Army Service Corps (RASC) depot.

Another view of the workshops. ‘C’ section is seen on the left-hand side.

Christmas Day on Christmas Island in 1958. Bob posing with some coconuts, which servicemen used to post home to their families. They simply painted the address on them and the Army would fly them home and deliver them. The practice stopped in the end as there were simply too many and too much weight to handle.

The only person to work on any of the Euclids on the island, thanks to his previous training in Germany before his posting.

After successfully repairing the gearbox on the Caterpillar D8, Bob is seen here giving it a test run. While repairing it, his colleagues removed the gearbox inspection plate and found a large adjustable spanner laying inside the gearbox! No doubt this did not help the vehicle’s performance.

The Land Rover that Bob and his colleagues rebuilt using scrap parts. His sergeant was not very impressed by their actions!

Another shot before the Land Rover was repaired. For an island with no traffic other than the Army, accidents seemed quite frequent, and often quite damaging.

Another Land Rover that was repaired and put back into service.

Bob performing a repair on the hub of one of the Scammells.

Using a Scammell to recover a stricken Albion tipper truck that has sunk into the soft ground of the island.

Another recovery job, this time to free a bogged down AEC mobile crane. This is quite a rare colour photo.

Bob and two friends on leave in Hawaii.

While on leave on Hawaii, Bob would often take a tour around on a bus. Most of these were powered by two-stroke diesel engines, which would leave a ringing in the ears!

About a year into his posting, he was told, “Pack your gear, you’re off home!” He was leaving Germany.

“I had one week’s embarkation leave before having to report to Arborfield near Reading. After my dad had finished work for the day, he drove me back from our home in Suffolk.

“It was late in the evening when we arrived, and the soldier on gate duty was busy on the phone. I left my leave pass on his desk at his post, and he gave me a wave of acknowledgement in return.”

The next day on parade, when everybody’s names were called out for duty rosters, Bob’s name wasn’t mentioned, so rather than query it, he just made his way back to the NAAFI and sat drinking tea and relaxing for the rest of the day. Not only did this happen the following day, but the day after as well!

Bob knew what day he was meant to be leaving for his new posting on Christmas Island, so decided not to bother with the parade.

A friend of his then found him and told him that he had been reported AWOL!

“I couldn’t believe it!” said Bob.

“The ‘red caps’ had been dispatched to my house, and my father was livid, telling them that he had taken me personally back to the base!

“I went down to the adjutant’s office to find out what had happened. When we checked back at sentry post at the main gate, we found my leave card had slipped down the side of the desk. Fortunately this misdemeanour didn’t go on to my record, as I wasn’t actually AWOL. Surprisingly, they decided to send me back home for a few more days leave before once again reporting back to Arborfield.

“I was then sent back home for yet another week’s embarkation leave before reporting back for the final time, flying out to Christmas Island in late February 1958. I had been getting a bit fed up with the going back and forth, but at least my mother, Isla, was pleased to have me home whenever the opportunity arose.

It was the worst plane I have ever been on!

“At the time I had no idea what Christmas Island was or even where it was! And I think it was only because I had volunteered for so many different courses that I had been selected to go out there.

“We were flown out on a Qantas civilian flight, via Prestwick, Reykjavik, Newfoundland, Vancouver, San Francisco and Honolulu. It took us five days!

“This was, of course, the era before jet engines and our plane kept being delayed, mostly with radar problems. It was difficult to find one’s way across vast ocean stretches by sight alone!”

For the final leg of the journey to his Christmas Island posting, Bob had to board a military plane. “It was the worst plane I have ever been on!” he complained.

“After crossing the world in a nice civilian plane, we boarded this former World War Two Hastings transport plane. There weren’t any proper seats, just slatted benches down the fuselage sides. It was well past its sell-by date! There were rivets missing everywhere and the windows rattled in their frames! Good grief, 600 miles in this old bus. There was no food, so if you had forgotten to have your breakfast you starved, and the noise and draughts were just incredible!

“When we finally landed and disembarked the heat and humidity hit us straight away,” said Bob. “It was like trying to breathe custard.”

For a young lad from sleepy Suffolk this extreme heat was quite a shock.

“I was there as an LAD attachment to the Royal Army Service Corps. They were the truck drivers for the Army and as part of their remit were in the process of building the runways and road infrastructure on the island. As the ‘attachment’, we were there for the repair and maintenance of all their machinery, and it was a full-time job as the vehicles were properly ‘abused’ by the drivers!”

All these preparations were for the new H bomb tests that were scheduled to happen in the area, not that the recruits had any idea what they were there for when they arrived on the island. It was all very secretive.

“During my time there, seven bombs were tested; four were land-based atom bombs, shot from barrage balloons. The other three were H-bomb ‘atmosphere tests’, the ones everyone has seen on news reports over the years with the ‘mushroom cloud’.

During my time there, seven bombs were tested; four were land-based atom bombs, shot from barrage balloons.

“The thing is, looking back, the protection we were offered was very amateurish. These were still very early days in nuclear testing, and other than the catastrophic damage a nuclear explosion could cause no one was really aware of the physical and internal harm radioactive fallout could do, too. None of us knew what was going on and we just followed orders.

“We were told to detach the sides from the tents we were living in, but to leave the roof on. All vehicle windows were wound down and Land Rover windscreens folded flat to the vehicle body.

“The whole testing programme was incredible and like nothing else I have endured in my life.

“We were told to get on our knees and bend forward, placing the heel of our hands into our eyes, with the backs of our hands pressed tightly to our knees in a sort of foetal position.

“Then, through gigantic megaphones, the countdown would begin, ten, nine, eight, seven, etc. down to one, followed by a deathly silence for a second or two until the sound and light waves hit you. It was like looking at an X-ray of your whole body, such was the brightness of the light, and the heat blast was like being enclosed in a room packed full of three-bar electric fires.

“The blasts even knocked all of the coconuts out of the trees!” remembered Bob.

Looking out over Pearl Harbour on the flight back to Christmas Island.

Bob with a Bedford RL, being used as transport for some of the troops to go swimming. Bob was always the designated driver for these trips, but he relished the chance of a stint behind the wheel.

Show me the way to go home! Bob posing with the various city destinations and mileages to them.

Loaded with barrels of bitumen on the roll collected from the docks, the Scammell rests back at the service corps depot after a short but strenuous drive.

A Scammell and AEC parked in the barracks. Note the lack of windscreen in the AEC; if they broke engineers would not bother replacing them due to the heat of the island.

Shortly before the Duke of Edinburgh was due to visit, it was decided that the workshops needed tidying up …

And so a few large trenches were dug …

A line-up of petrol-engined Albion 10-tonne tippers, seen at the service corps.

And everything was thrown in and buried! Note that a lot of the trucks are actually American that were left behind after the Second World War had ended.

During the tests, the local people were taken off the islands by the Royal Navy and kept at sea for a couple of days before being returned, all this on the assumption that any pollution had been blown away!

You might think that some of the locals and staff based there must have been affected in the long-term by this testing, but funnily enough Bob was not aware of any deaths or adverse effects on anyone at the time or since and shows no signs whatsoever of any problems himself, although his family does have a history of living a very long time.

Bob and his new colleagues soon became accustomed to their new posting, working twelve hours a day, six days a week, on maintenance and repair work.

“It was quite surprising how many accidents people have when there’s only palm trees and each other to hit!” he laughed.

It was quite surprising how many accidents people have when there’s only palm trees and each other to hit!

Bob, as the sole qualified person, was the only fitter allowed to do any work on the huge Euclid Scrapers, something for which all the volunteering back in Germany was now paying dividends.

A lot of the repairs were of the ‘mend and make do’ variety and all older and wrecked vehicles were kept as donors for repairs that might be required, and there were many.

The remains of a Morris one-tonner, which was nicknamed the Morris pig, destined for the trenches to be buried out of sight.