No 2 Mill, Clydesdale
Number Two Mill was a leviathan.
You could feel her raw power surging through your feet with every
hammer blow into the billets that would spew out a mile of red hot pipe.
With every bang, the whole hundred tons of machinery would
rise inches from the floor.
The men that worked around her were Lanarkshires best.
Raw men, tough men stripped to the waist in the infernal heat
and surrounded by hissing steam and roaring noise.
It was the mid eighties and an uncaring government had smashed
the miners and was about to wreck. Scotland's steel industry.
In a welter of false promises and half truths they had tempted
the steel men into believing that effort would bring a just reward.
Every month the huge legend board at the gates of
New Stevenson's Clydesdale Works would announce record
beating results. New Stevenson, Mossend and Bellshill
provided most of the labour for Lanarkshire's steel.
The men of Number Two knew how to coax every
last yard of steel pipe from the mill. Soon it became the bosses
turn to show their commitment and despite a low investment
budget, improvements in handling were made.
The tubes were sawn apart while still roasting hot and on the run.
ough young lads would run the two foot diameter tubes
like barrels down the ramps to the yard.
Number Two supplied steel tubes for North Sea Oil platforms,
and trucks sat ready to take the output to the construction yards.
There was never enough time. Never enough tube, no matter
how hard they worked. It was despatate times at Clydesdale.
That very week, The Queen and the Household Cavalry were
on a morale boosting visit to the City o' Glasgow.
My wife went to see the spectacle in George Square.
The queen had arrived by train, and for the duration of her visit,
the navy blue Royal train, with its imperial blue was parked
in the marshalling yard at Clydesdale.
You weren't allowed to look and instructions were given
oot that there should be nae hindrance. The men of Number Two
just broke their backs as usual.
I got a chance to see the Train.
My god it was a lovely train though.
The diesel engine was still kept running with that low
whiney sort of burbling noise, and there were army
sentries posted at each end and in the middle.
When I came home from work that day my wife
was full of it. She related the whole story of the
Queen and the Horses and all the Queens men in
Glasgow.
When she was finished, I just said.
"Aye hen, the men of Number Two will be pleased for her."
Three months later, Number Two Mill was scrapped,
and so were the men.
-----------------
(Local Dialect)
Nummer Two Mill wis a leviathan.
Ye could feel her raw pow'r surgin' through yer feet wi' every
hemmer blow intae the billets that wid spew out a mile o' rid hoat pipe.
Wi' every bang, the hail hunner tons o' machinery wid rise inches aff the
fler.
The men 'at worked aroon' her in the mid eichties were Lanarkshires best.
Raw men, tough men strippit tae the waist in the infernal heat,
and surroondit by hissin' steam and roarin noaise lik' oot o' Hell.
It wis the mid eighties an' a government wha' didnae gie a damn hid
smashed the miners and wis hell-bent oan wreckin Scoatland's
steel industry. In a welter o' false promises and hauf truths they hid
temptit the steel men intae believin' that effort wid bring a just reward.
Whit a bliddy lie that wis'.
Every month the huge legend board at the gates o' New Stevenson's
Clydesdale Works wid announce record beatin' results. New Stevenson,
Mossend and Bellshill providit maist o' the labour for Lanarkshire's steel.
The men o' Number Two knew how to coax every last yaird o'
steel pipe frae oot o'the mill. Soon it 'cam the turn o' the gaffers tae
show thair commitment and despite hivven nae money in the kitty,
improvements in haun'lin wir made. The tubes wir sawn apairt while
still roasting hoat and oan the run. Tough young fellas wid rin the twa-fit
diameter tubes lik barrels doon the ramps to the yaird.
Nummer Twa supplied steel tubes for Noarth Sea platforms,
an' trucks sat ready tae tak the output stracht tae the construction yairds.
Thur was never enough time. Never enough tube, nae maitter hoo
hard they worked.
It wis desparate times at Clydesdale.
The Queen and the Hoosehold Cavalry wir oan a morale boostin'
veesit tae Glasga. Ma wife went to see the spectacle in Geoarge Square.
The queen hid arrived by train, and for the duration o' her veesit, the
navy blue Roayal train, wi' its imperial insignia sat pawrked in the
mairshalling yaird at Clydesdale.
Ye wurnae allow'd tae luk an' instructions were gied oot that
there shid be nae hindrance. The men o' Nummer Two jist broke thur
backs as yaisual. I goat a chance to hiv a peek at the Train.
My Goad, it was a lovely train though. The diesel engine was still
kept runnin' wi' that low soart o' burbling noise, and there were army
sentries postit at each end an' in the middle.
When I came hame frae work that day my wife was full ae it.
She relatit the hail story o' a' the Queen and the Hoarses and a'
the Queens men.
When she was feenished, a jist said.
"Aye hen, the men o' Nummer Two will be pleased fur her."
Three months later, The Mill wis shut, an Nummer Two wis
Scrapp't, alang wi' the men.
---------
Date:Fri, 3 Jun 2005 22:37:24 +0100
Author:
|