“‘They’re making all these precision objects for shells and what-not,’ I thought, ‘and they can’t even get a clock on the wall that works.’ I was wrong. The passage of time in the classroom had been rapid compared to this. No sooner was my foot in the door that first day than a man came to me and said I was now a member of the Transport and General Workers Union, and that threepence a week would be stopped out of my pay. I didn’t want to belong to a union, was my response, further informing him ...that he should, in the current exhortation to the unwanted, go and get dive-bombed, because he would get no money out of me. There seemed something ignominious in belonging to an organization of which so many others were members, indicating that I was a follower of Marx (Groucho) from a reasonably early age, but the convenor, if that’s what he was, laughed and said I had no option, because it was the law these days. The stoppage was automatic, and no one could avoid it. My father, who worked in another shop, or department, came to see how I was getting on and, finding nothing to pick fault with, went back to his work.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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