Gibbs Mew Brewery

A Memory of Salisbury.

I worked as a labourer at Gibbs Mew Brewery between November 1967 and April '68. It was a stop-gap job as I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life at the time. The work was boring and the days dragged but it was a job and I was grateful for it at the time.
My particular job was in the warehouse where I stood at the end of a conveyor belt on the ground floor stacking cases of full beer bottles onto pallets which were then piled high on top of each other by fork-lift. These cases were sent down from the bottling plant upstairs. The cases would often become log-jammed half way up the conveyor. When unblocked, they'd come hurtling to the bottom, often smashing in the process.
There was a clock in the warehouse whose hands I swear never moved, such was the monotonous nature of the work. We had a 15 or 20 minute morning break plus an hour for lunch. We were also allowed to take home a pint bottle of beer home a day (to prevent pilfering). I always chose Moonraker Brown Ale. Although I like a pint (at the pub), I never actually drank these bottles and soon had a cupboard full at home.
The firm's Managing Director was Peter Gibb (always referred to as 'Mr Peter' by those working in the off-licence on the corner of Gigant Street and Milford Street). But the real bosses were the Head Brewer, Mr Crossman, and the General Foreman, Mr Acton. Both were very tall with clipped moustaches and wore white coats. Mr Crossman in particular was very stern and regarded almost like God. He would refer to workers by their surnames and I remember him sacking a long-time employee because he couldn't do overtime one night owing to a family engagement. My own particular line-manager was Mr Matthews, a kindly man with a dark moustache who wore a brown coat. He'd often come round asking me if I could do an hour's overtime and was so nice I didn't have the heart to refuse even though I couldn't wait to finish.
Looking back, I should perhaps have explored opportunities to stay and progress. I'd been to Bishop Wordsworth's School and had some 'O' levels. As long as you did an honest day's work, it wasn't a bad place. (Alaric Birkett)