ako444:
Great thread this…I just caught up on it yesterday now I’m wating for the next installment…come on Sandway…put your brew down and get typing
I was typing it this morning then something happened and I lost the lotl. Now trying to remember what I wrote. Come on little grey cells. Don’t let me down now!!!
It was late Saturday afternoon. We had made ourselves comfortable in our hotel room. Both showered and relaxed as best we could after the trauma of the past twenty four hours but now I had to contact the company to let them know what had happened. We went down to reception and asked the young lady working there if we could ring England. “Give me the number” she said “and I will get it for you”. She then turned around to this telephone contraption on the wall. It was like you see in old films. It was boxlike with a handle on the side which you cranked. On the front was a mouthpiece that you spoke into and then on the end of a pipe or cable was a hearing device that you stuck against your ear. First she cranked the handle which enabled her to contact the local exchange and she gave them the number in England. They then contacted Adana exchange who then contacted Ankara who then rang the number I had given the receptionist. The person I was trying to get hold of was Dave Stagg, our transport manager. I picked the phone up which was on the counter and heard Dave’s phone ringing. Yes, you’ve guessed it, he wasn’t at home. Well, I had to get a message to him so went through all the procedures again but this time I rang my wife. I asked her to contact Staggie and explain what had happened. This she did in the evening. Dave later told me he was not best pleased to have received the message via my wife. I thought to myself, then you should sit by your phone all weekend on the off chance someone might need to get hold of you.
On the Sunday we did very little. We ran back to the scene of the accident and John looked in his wrecked lorry to see if there was anything he had left behind. I didn’t expect him to find anything as the conscripts who were meant to be guarding it would have stripped it bare overnight.
The officer arrived at the hotel at eight o’clock Monday morning to take us to the courthouse in Mardin. We were still quite scruffy, John more so, even though we had done our best to make ourselves presentable. We went to Mardin in the officers car and were soon being led into a plain, simple room furnished with some desks and chairs. The Turkish driver was there as was the interpreter we had dealt with on Saturday morning when our statements were taken. There were about ten or twelve people in the room waiting for the Magistrate to appear. We didn’t have to wait long. I remember being surprised at this quite young chap, at a guess about twenty eight, who came into the room and sat down at the head of one of the desks. He wasn’t wearing a tie or jacket but was otherwise smart with good clean black shoes. He was obviously an educated person and appeared to be respected by all. Various people started talking and our statements were handed to the Magistrate. We couldn’t understand what was being said as it was all in Turkish. I did notice a couple of policemen came in and stood at the back of the room. I thought to myself “will we be leaving with them?” After what seemed an age, but was less than an hour, a decision seemed to have been made. The magistrate got up and left the room. I looked at John who looked at me. Neither of us knew what was going on. Then the interpreter came across to us and said the Magistrate had, after weighing up the evidence, decided that it was the bad state of the road that was the reason for the accident. John had to pay court costs though of just over £1 which, once paid, meant we could be on our way. What a wonderful bloke that Magistrate was. John could have kissed him. I couldn’t, but John could.
Once the court costs had been paid the officer drove us back to the hotel. He shook our hands and said his goodbyes. We grabbed our gear from our room, checked out, jumped in my lorry and went back to the crash site. I now had to suss out how I was going to get two trailers and a wrecked unit home or at least to somewhere kinda civilised. But then we had a big stroke of luck. The Turkish driver had organised a lorry with a flatbed trailer that was on its way home from Baghdad to transport his wrecked unit back to Mersin. He’d also got a wrecker standing by to load it. When I saw what was happening I immediately asked the flatbed driver if he would take Johns lorry back to Iskenderun. I chose Iskenderun as Promotor had dealt with an agent there a year or so earlier whilst shipping Coles Cranes from the port to Baghdad. I could’nt contact this agent to ask if he would help so just trusted to luck. We agreed a price and all was starting to fall into place. The Turkish drivers wrecked lorry was loaded first and it went on easily. Johns lorry was next up. Hallelujah. We were on our way home.
To be continued.
The court case in Mardin was over and we had been exonerated of all blame. The state of the road was the problem and John was over the moon with that verdict. I know cos he told me so, many times! Now all we had to do was tidy up. That meant getting Johns wrecked unit to a secure place and his damaged trailer and load of Lansing Bagnall forklifts to a place where they could easily be shipped home. I thought the port of Iskenderun would be best so that was plan A. I had made arrangements with the driver with the flatbed trailer, who was taking the Turkish wrecked unit back to Mersin, to take John’s unit to Iskenderun. All was going smoothly. The Turkish unit was loaded first then it was the turn of John’s and that’s where we came up against another problem. Try as we may we couldn’t get the thing to stay on the trailer. There was oil and rubbish from the loading of the first unit and this was causing John’s to keep slipping off. Everyone was getting frustrated but kept at it for a couple of hours. Finally one of the Turks came to me and indicated they would try to load it one last time. If it came off again that was it. I thought to myself, it has to go. I didn’t have a plan B. This time when the crane lifted the front of the unit onto the trailer I positioned my lorry on the opposite side to where it kept sliding off and attached a chain so it couldn’t slide off again. The only problem I could see with that was if It slid off my side it could land on my lorry. However, as the driver with the flatbed slowly reversed so John’s suspended unit kinda slid into place. There was one last little bit of drama as a front wheel slid off but we soon had that lifted back on. I just hoped the Turkish driver had plenty of ropes and chains to secure both units. It would not have surprised me to find both wrecks on the side of the road somewhere between where we were and Iskenderun.
By now it was Monday mid afternoon and I told John we would take my trailer to a TIR park hallway back to Adana, leave it there and return for his and then run that trailer straight through to Iskenderun. That night though, Kiziltepe was as far as I was going. Next morning we started off first thing and it didn’t take long before John and I had a disagreement. I didn’t let anyone smoke an my lorry. I didn’t care if he’d been in an accident or was on death’s doorstep. No smoking. Well, he had to accept that ruling but everytime we stopped he would get out and puff away non stop as if his life depended on it. After we dropped my trailer we returned to pick up Johns, but before we could get back on the road I made him get into his trailer and move the forklifts back as they had all shunted forward in the accident. That evening found us back in the TIR park at Kiziltepe.
Next day we left early as I wanted to get to Iskenderun and drop off John’s trailer whilst the agents office was still open. We had to sort the paperwork out otherwise he would have problems leaving the country. After a few hours driving I again had a disagreement with John as he suggested he drive some of the way. Well, that was definitely a “no no”. We finally arrived in Iskenderun and went to the office. Here we learnt of another problem. We couldn’t leave either the lorry or trailer there as we were off our designated TIR route. We had to go to Adana customs and make representation to the Director of Customs to leave Johns wrecked unit and the trailer there. The agent explained they had told the Turkish driver who was transporting the wrecked unit this and he was going to make his way there. It was by now late in the day so we ran back to the Oryx parking for the night. At least we could have a meal and get cleaned up there. We didn’t know where the customs were or what the procedures would be so asked around. Soon we found a Mr Fixit who, for a small consideration, would help us. We agreed to meet early next morning.
Once our Mr Fixit knew exactly what we needed he led us to the Adana Customs complex. We parked outside and there, just inside the gate, was Johns wrecked unit. I can tell you I never thought we’d see that again. So result number one. We were then led to the Directors office where we all sat around a lovely polished table befitting a very important man. It was explained that an accident had occurred and that we wanted to deposit the lorry and trailer in the customs compound until the insurance company could make arrangements to ship them home. He, of course, knew some of the story from the driver who had delivered the wrecked unit a few days earlier. It could be done he said, but first cay was ordered. No need to rush was the order of the day. John duly handed over all the paperwork and his passport to an office boy who disappeared with it. He came back a little later with some documents which the director signed and then the all important rubber stamp was applied to them. A copy was given to us together with John’s passport and that was that. I was told where to drop the trailer and then we ran back to the Oryx parking area from where I telephoned our office. I heard months later that the insurance company shipped the trailer back but that John’s unit wasn’t. No doubt its still sitting there looking very sorry for itself.
After filling up with fuel we set off back across southern Turkey to where I had left my trailer. Once we’ed hooked up to it we could truly say we were homeward bound. We poodled on back via Adana, Ankara, Istanbul and Ipsala. It had taken twelve days to transit Turkey which by my reckoning wasn’t bad. At this time John and I were hardly talking. He kept complaining that we could be home much sooner if he shared the driving and still complained because I wouldn’t let him smoke in the lorry. We made our way up to the National where he said we should push on to Zagreb that night. We didn’t though and things were very tense as we got our heads down that night. For the next couple of days I drove my usual route at my usual pace which by late afternoon saw us well up the Autobahn about three hours from Aachan. Here I announced I was stopping for the night. John went ballistic. “We can be on the ferry tonight” he screamed. “No, John we can’t, this is were we are stopping”. With that he jumped down from the cab and disappeared. An hour later he was back. He grabbed his gear and told me he had got a lift with another driver who was going home that night. “Thank God for that” I thought. I never saw John “Welly” Ward again. Ever.
Next day I drove to Zeebrugge and caught an afternoon ferry. That evening I parked up at the Halfway Cafe at Harrietsham. I finally rolled back into the office late morning. Staggie, our transport manager was in a good mood and we shook hands and Peter Calderwood, the boss came over and I got a pat on the back. Staggie then told me John had arrived in the office the day before and had given them a complete rundown of what had happened including the fact we could have been home three or four days earlier if I had let him drive.
I sat down at the table with Peter and Staggie. “Now lets hear the true version of events” Staggie said.
The end.
Great story Brian and full marks to the Turks. My experience was they would go to the ends of the Earth to help you out and I hate it when I hear English steering wheel attendants running them down.
Fascinating Brian, absolutely bloody fascinating so many thanks for taking the time for writing it all down and sharing it with us. 
Now we are all eagerly waiting to read about your next adventure which at the time probably seemed like just another day on the road to you. 
Regards Steve.
A brilliant story Brian. I said before that I could not remember hearing about this, but I must have. (The old memory playing up). 
I do remember that Wardy and Billy Took were in competition about who could do Yugo and back the quickest. There was that job at Nova Mesta where you tipped and reloaded in the same factory. Tookie did Dover to N.M. and back to Dover in 4 days. Wardie did it in 4 and a half.
Knowing that Wardie did not like to hang around I always wondered why he followed other people. It would have been better if he went first. That way he wasn’t going to run into the back of you.
Excellent story Brian. I thoroughly enjoyed waiting for the various episodes and excellent photos. Do you have a date for that trip?
I can’t remember the dates of the Baghdad when Wardy drove the behind me, glued to my trailer. I had a quick look through my passports but the visas were all dated but didn’t help. I think it was between 1981 - 1983. I was rather pleased to let him tip and leave before me (deliberately). Somewhere I have my diaries but the T&S has tidied everything so nothing can be found (including my photos - mine not as exciting as yours Brian, I must say).
I am 100% sure I have never heard your story before and I do wonder whether this ended Wardy’s career at Promotor?
I did a Baghdad each year at PMs for the Baghdad show. 1979 I did the first one (pre-Promotor) and then 1980 or 1981 I had Bugsy behind me. Always amusing company but I often wondered how he managed to get on on his own… It was a bit like managing a dreamy and lazy boy…
I did another general freight to Baghdad with Tommy Burch where no one could decide where we were to unload. We waited outside a factory for 2 days somewhere in Baghdad and each morning we’d go in and an old boy in a corner office of the warehouse would examine our huge yellow arabic manifests holding them upside down. He shared an office with a young women. I remember when the old boy went out of the room for a moment she suddenly said “mushkila” (problem) and I laughed and said “maku mushkila” (no problem). Suddenly she looked at me hard and started flicking her tongue in and out at me in a most suggestive manner indeed. I really wasn’t expecting that at all…
The old boy eventually gave us “directions” (hand waving and jabbering style) to the off-loading site and Tommy said “which way do we go when we leave here, left or right?” Frankly I didn’t know… We stopped dozens of people in the street with our bit of paper but mostly these people couldn’t read or just stared at us as if we were Martians.
When eventually we found our destination to tip - carrying our Sinclair Spectrums computers - I remember hoiking a young Arab gentlemen - ostensibly employed for unloading the trailer - out of the back of the box trailer as he was ripping open all the boxes to pinch stuff. It caused quite a stir with the guards when I pulled him out by his shirt whilst cursing him. I was pretty annoyed with the fellow - to say the least - I was anxious that the manifest wasn’t signed as “damaged” because it could be difficult to get your passport back from the cardboard box in the little hut in Fallujah.
Another memory of Baghdad when I stayed for one of the shows was standing in Sa’adoon Street waiting to meet the translator who was helping me find some money that had disappeared at the bank… As I stood in the street waiting for her a young woman came up to me and ran her hands through my hair… Always lots of surprises in Iraq.
I went to a great party in Baghdad with the translator who was an Assyrian (thus a Christian). Her father had an ancient copy of Time magazine about Lawrence of Arabia and he told me that Lawrence was the “uncrowned King of Mecca”. This was obviously a treasured artifact. All the guests at the party were, um, female - one eager to marry off her beautiful 16 year old daughter to me (and I’m not joking either). Later that night a few westerners started to arrive and the party was in full swing when a 1 tonne Iranian Scud missile landed nearby with quite a large bang (shook the building too)… All the lights went off and the women became quite hysterical, anxious about their families. One had landed in the Tigris the previous week and had left a thin tall column with a mushroom cloud atop. It was air was so still that the column was there all day. I didn’t have my camera…
Regarding the subject of Mr. Wards departure, quite honestly it always astounded me that he,along with a few others I could mention( one in particular!) managed to hold a job at Pro,s as long as they did considering the not inconsiderable amount of damage they managed to inflict on Promotors fleet. Whilst I like everybody else have enjoyed Sandways tale of woe from far away consider this, none of that would have taken place had it not been for someone,s narrow minded idea of driving skill and complete lack of common sense. I am also sure that also explains why he took the opportunity of the lift home with the other truck when being so close to home…in order to cover his a**e by coming up with a complete pack of lies in the office! Fortunately there was someone at the scene with a modicum of common sense to handle the situation, and how many other occasions did that happen at Promotor. Quick question Brian, why was he driving Preecey,s Scania?
Great post Efes. Staggie told me two loads of computers were on their way to Baghdad. I seem to remember a load had been sent down ahead of yours but not sure who took that one. I knew you had taken one but didn’t know Tommy Birch was the other driver. Those scud missiles must have been after him though. On one occasion I had a room on the 18th floor of the Meridian Hotel. Tommy dossed down in the room for a few nights whilst he waited to unload. One night, at two in the morning a scud missile landed about 300m further down Sadoun Street, behind the filling station. I was awake for some reason. When the missile exploded, a very sharp crack, Tommy sat bolt upright in bed then flopped back and continued snoring. Next morning I said to him, that was a close shave last night. What was he said. He hadn’t heard a thing. The Sheraton Hotel was closer to the blast but they only suffered one broken window. Of course Sadaams lot never did admit those scuds were from Iran and the bomb sites were always cleared of rubble and bodies before anyone had chance to nose around. Somewhere I have a photo of the cloud rising from another scud blast. That one was up Abu Nuwas street in the mud by the river and that was taken from my hotel room. Sounds very similar to the one you saw the plume of smoke rise from.
As I said in my last post concerning Wellies accident. I am sure it was January/February 1983. I don’t think it was earlier as I had been using the Koper/Tartous ferry up to mid 82. I also have a Scanny 112. He was not sacked when he got back but left a year or so later.
As for the girls in Iraq flicking their tongue at you and running their fingers through your hair. Maybe it was because of your boyish looks and charm. Just think yourself lucky it wasn’t the men doing it to you!
I have attached a pic of barrage balloons over Baghdad. Didn’t help stop scud missiles though.
Morning RF. Re your last post. Another very punchy diatribe. Just what I would expect from you. Glad to see you haven’t changed much in thirty five years or so. Thats why you will always be RF to me.
Must admit I could never understand why very few people knew of Wellies accident and why he wasn’t sacked.
Concerning him driving Annika. John Preece’s lorry. I don’t know unless John had a Scania 112 by then.
Afternoon Brian, sorry if I came across a little angry previously, its because I WAS!!! and reading about your tales of woe only brings it back as to just how annoyed I was at the time. I was immensely proud of being associated with a company like Promotor which had such a good reputation within the continental freight community. I can,t remember how many times I used to get asked about getting a job on Promotor by drivers that had heard what a good company it was. I just wonder how much better it could have been if the powers that be could have been a little more selective when it came to staff recruitment. I,m also convinced that it was a major contributing fact as to why,whilst being reasonably paid we were never at the top of the continental pay scale! Of course I,m not just picking out Promotor, I,m sure there were other equally respected companies that suffered the same problems . What made Promotor unique as has been mentioned before was the complete diversity of the work that you were in engaged with and that is probably the sole reason that blokes put up with the money side. Deffo the case for me! I had eleven good years there and only a “once in a lifetime” opportunity to try something for myself put an end to it. I will add that I was tempted by management to change my mind but it failed and anyway thats another story, so they say !!!
Nice picture of the Stormont vehicle hire Cargo Sandway, brings back memories 
A WARD:
Nice picture of the Stormont vehicle hire Cargo Sandway, brings back memories
Sometimes we seemed to have more Stormont vehicles than Promotor ones.
Nottsnortherner:
Afternoon Brian, sorry if I came across a little angry previously, its because I WAS!!! and reading about your tales of woe only brings it back as to just how annoyed I was at the time. I was immensely proud of being associated with a company like Promotor which had such a good reputation within the continental freight community. I can,t remember how many times I used to get asked about getting a job on Promotor by drivers that had heard what a good company it was. I just wonder how much better it could have been if the powers that be could have been a little more selective when it came to staff recruitment. I,m also convinced that it was a major contributing fact as to why,whilst being reasonably paid we were never at the top of the continental pay scale! Of course I,m not just picking out Promotor, I,m sure there were other equally respected companies that suffered the same problems . What made Promotor unique as has been mentioned before was the complete diversity of the work that you were in engaged with and that is probably the sole reason that blokes put up with the money side. Deffo the case for me! I had eleven good years there and only a “once in a lifetime” opportunity to try something for myself put an end to it. I will add that I was tempted by management to change my mind but it failed and anyway thats another story, so they say !!!
RF. I like to see a bit of passion in a post. (thats lyrical aint it). Don’t apologise. As you said, we weren’t the best paid drivers around but boy, we were envied by many.
I was shipping out from Dover one day when I heard this strange and eerie music wafting across the lanes where we normally parked prior to boarding. I left my lorry and went to have a look see. There were all theses girls marching about and putting on a show. Bl–dy good they were to.
It was, I think, July 1981 and the spectacular was to do with the launch of the St Christopher Ferry on the Dover/Calais route. However, there were problems elsewhere and she was put on another route first before returning to her intended route. I also believe the BBC childrens programme, Blue Peter, was involved. The children having chosen the ferries name.
The girls parading were “The Mayflower Corps” from Billericay in Essex and so I was told were the top Majorette group of their day.
sandway:
I was shipping out from Dover one day when I heard this strange and eerie music wafting across the lanes where we normally parked prior to boarding. I left my lorry and went to have a look see. There were all theses girls marching about and putting on a show. Bl–dy good they were to.It was, I think, July 1981 and the spectacular was to do with the launch of the St Christopher Ferry on the Dover/Calais route. However, there were problems elsewhere and she was put on another route first before returning to her intended route. I also believe the BBC childrens programme, Blue Peter, was involved. The children having chosen the ferries name.
The girls parading were “The May Mayflower Corps” from Billericay in Essex and so I was told were the top Majorette group of their day.
IIRC, St Christopher went on to become Stena Antrim and eventually the Ibn Batuta plying twixt Algeciras and Tangiers (a crossing I did many, many times!). Robert
sandway:
I was shipping out from Dover one day when I heard this strange and eerie music wafting across the lanes where we normally parked prior to boarding. I left my lorry and went to have a look see. There were all theses girls marching about and putting on a show. Bl–dy good they were to.It was, I think, July 1981 and the spectacular was to do with the launch of the St Christopher Ferry on the Dover/Calais route. However, there were problems elsewhere and she was put on another route first before returning to her intended route. I also believe the BBC childrens programme, Blue Peter, was involved. The children having chosen the ferries name.
The girls parading were “The May Mayflower Corps” from Billericay in Essex and so I was told were the top Majorette group of their day.
Remembering the lorry drivers I knew I am sure that the girls had a most appreciative audience.
That’s a great pic of Dover back in the day. Now we can play a game we all love… can you recognise any of the hauliers in the photo. I think right at the back is a Lloyds of Ludlow, a ? Raymond (red and white trailer) and on the left could that be a forerunner of RH Freight out of Nottingham? The Merc wagon and drag behind the trailer of the Transcon, a German company and I cant picture the name but they are still running now. The orange trailer right at the back on the far left, Richard Kempers or something??
“My name is trikky dikki and I come from Billarikki…” Ian Dury and the Blockheads!
bullitt:
That’s a great pic of Dover back in the day. Now we can play a game we all love… can you recognise any of the hauliers in the photo. I think right at the back is a Lloyds of Ludlow, a ? Raymond (red and white trailer) and on the left could that be a forerunner of RH Freight out of Nottingham? The Merc wagon and drag behind the trailer of the Transcon, a German company and I cant picture the name but they are still running now. The orange trailer right at the back on the far left, Richard Kempers or something??
What lorries in the background!!! I haven’t got beyond the girls front (J)bumper yet…
