He had intense feelings about injustices and found some comfort in partly reconciling a strict church upbringing and a suffering Christ with his first political thoughts.
But why, he asked himself, should he pray only 'for the faithful departed'? He could not accept that, or other parts of the church service What about the good and kind 'unfaithful departed'? Maybe one should pray most of all for the bad and the wicked?
By the time he was married, he was a lapsed churchgoer, but had a church wedding at his bride's insistence. He'd become a pragmatist, very interested in practical politics, based on simple slogans like 'All men are equal'. At that time, 'Some are more equal than others' didn't come into it!
He saw the Labour Party as the way to salvation. Despite the failings of the first Labour Government and the shortcomings and treachery of its leader, Ramsay MacDonald, he remained a true-believer that one day, his party would have a good majority and start to create a new Jerusalem, banishing the 'dark satanic mills', and all the evils which he thought stemmed from them, so that all could have a fair share in 'England's green and pleasant land'.
By 1937, there was plenty of talk about another war coming. It disturbed Gordon greatly, because of what had happened to his father Eli, and millions of others, in the last conflict. Gordon knew only too well what the consequences of war were and he had no time for war-mongers. He wasn't alone there. The members of Jack's discussion group were all opposed to war. Jack seemed to be changing his mind.
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| Republican troops at Guadalajara, 1937. Image: German Federal Archive, via Wikimedia |
One of the other members asked, "How do you mean? What are you getting at Jack?"
"I mean we're nothing more than armchair socialists. Shouldn't we be doing something to really help the Republicans against that swine Franco, and the Fascists who are backing him?"
"We send what we can afford Jack, to help on the medical side," protested the other.
"I'm not talking about money. I'm talking about going there and really helping."
"You don't mean fighting Jack! I thought that we were supposed to be a pacifist group! Wars solve nothing!"
It was obvious that Jack was no longer able to endorse those views. "Times are changing," he said. "We'll have to change with them."
"Principles are principles!" retorted the other. "It won't help if we start finding good reasons to do bad things."
Jack ended the discussion with, "Principles are made to be broken! That's a good principle!"
Gordon kept quiet. His own thinking had been developing along the lines of Jack's. Perhaps there were times when there was no peaceful alternative. Could he stand by and see his wife and family bombed or shot by an enemy? That was what was happening to innocents in Spain.
People began to leave. The meeting was over. No-one was keen on pursuing the matter any further.
Gordon was the last to depart. "You're not really thinking of going, are you Jack?" he asked his friend.
"I'm thinking about it. Just thinking. So don't say anything to Margaret, will you?"
"No, of course not Jack. See you on Thursday!"
They shook hands and Gordon went off down the long, steep slope to home.
As soon as he got in he told Margaret what was in Jack's mind. "Not a word to Sheila!"
"Course not!" she responded, "Do you think I'm stupid?"
Like most people in the country, Gordon dreaded another war. People didn't want another conflict. Memories were all too fresh of the last one. You'd only to look at the long list on the War Memorial. Lancaster was full of war widows and grieving relatives from the last one, ' The war to end all wars'!
With some cynicism and bitterness, Gordon noted that the family names of those who were most vociferous about trying to stop Hitler and his Nazis were conspicuous by their absence on the Lancaster list of dead soldiers.
"Some like to talk! Others have to do!" he told Margaret.
Quite apart from the world's problems, Gordon had plenty to worry about in his own life. He agreed with Margaret that he was too involved with things outside the household. It was becoming a real problem at home. His union activities could bring him trouble which could affect his family. His principles might be interfering with his real priorities and responsibilities. It wasn't just himself to be considered. He was a family man. His loyalties were split.
Gwyn, his baby daughter, was far from well. Michael, his son, kept on having nightmares. The two of them kept him awake half the night and he was beginning to feel the strain.
"I can't go on like this," he thought. "Something has to give."
At work, things never seemed to improve. Their department was always too hot in summer and freezing cold in winter. Old health and safety regulations were not being applied; new ones were not being introduced. There had only a few days holiday a year and all were without pay. The bosses hired-and-fired, without warning or compensation. When it suited them, they got rid of you, even skilled tradesmen like himself. His best friend, Brian Howson, was the latest work-mate to be shown the door He had been given just one week's notice then -- out!
Brian was a big loss to Gordon at work. He was someone Gordon could really trust. He felt almost totally isolated after Brian left. They were such close friends. They had been ever since he could remember.
He and Brian had been born in the same street. They'd been Christened and taken their first communion together at St. Thomas's church. They were always in the same class at school, the one next to the church, at the end of their street.
The main difference between them was that Gordon's father was dead and Brian's was a waster.
He'd confide in Gordon at playtime, "Same story! He came home drunk and started hitting my Mam. I butted in and I caught it instead."
Every morning, the pupils' hands, neck and footwear were inspected by a tyrannical teacher, slit-eyed, skinny Miss Jimpson. Woe betide anyone with dirty palms or a tide-mark around the neck.
Cleanliness was next to godliness and they'd better not forget it! She had a short stick which she wielded frequently to remind them.
Slow learners were her chief victims, but poor handwriting was the ultimate crime. Gordon was a natural left-hander but Miss Jackson had none of that. Everyone had to use their right-hand. Gordon was fortunate because somehow he managed to use his right hand without developing a stammer which some kids did.
He became ambidextrous and when he grew up, it was handy at work. Sometimes he spent days using a hammer. When one arm got tired he'd change to the other.
Brian was a full-time attender at school but Gordon's mother couldn't afford it. During his final years he was a 'half-dayer'. She sent him to school in the morning and he worked from the market, delivering groceries all afternoon.
Despite their poverty, Gordon was always turned-out smartly. Nan worked long hours at White Cross Mill.
Gordon had to sort himself and his younger brother ready for school. His mother always came back from the mill for them to have breakfast together at eight o'clock. By then, she'd already done two and a half hours work and her long day still stretched ahead.
Brian and Gordon were both bright lads and when they were fourteen, their mothers managed to gain them apprenticeships as roller-and-block cutters at Williamson's linoleum factory.
They, and the other lads in the street, were good friends and not much trouble to anyone. However, one day they were playing football. The ball went down Thurnham Street and hit a shop window. There was no damage but the shop-keeper reported them and they had to go to court. They were fined.
When the policeman, who had been obliged to take out proceedings against them heard this, he paid the fine himself, because he knew the boys' mothers. He knew that the lads came from respectable families. He'd been in the trenches with Nan's husband, Eli..
At the meetings, which Gordon went to regularly at Jack's house, these were the stories which the other people there liked to hear. Apart from Gordon, they'd all had a good education. There were three teachers, a solicitor and two quite prosperous businessmen in the group. Their beliefs came out of what they'd read or heard rather than how they'd lived.
Gordon was regarded, without being patronised, as something of a protege of Jack. For his part, Gordon was flattered when he held the floor and was listened to with real interest. They were fascinated by his descriptions of how it was at Williamsons.
He told them, how for several years they had been trying to form a union.
"Disgusting!" and "Disgraceful!" were the comments when he told them about Brian's unfair dismissal. Fair-haired, jovial, plump Brian, he of the broadest of broad Lancashire accents, had paid the price and lost his job. The foreman had told Brian his work was the poorest in the department and that as he had been late three times during the last twelve months, he was the one who had to go because they were over-staffed. The others knew it was all lies and a warning to the rest of them. The following week they employed two new young apprentices.The activists left in the department had to give up or proceed very carefully.
Jack's friends had contacts. They gave practical help and arranged for a national organiser to meet Gordon, and a few others from his department, in the Trades Hall one evening. This trades union big-wig told them how to go about things and win. At work, they began to make sensible plans, carefully canvassing their mates for support. It was no use tub-thumping.
There was a highly organised bosses' spy-system at Williamson's and it was hard to hide anything for long. Promotions often went to creeps who were only too willing to tell tales.
James Williamson had perfected this system and it had continued after his death. He hated unions.
Gordon had taken over where Brian had left off as chief unofficial organiser.He was fearful that he might be the next to be sacked. He didn't tell Margaret about this. She had enough to worry about looking after the two children all day. At least he had Jack to talk with twice a week.
"Things are changing," Jack said. "They'll need us all when war comes. You'll be allowed your union soon. You'll see!"
Every time Gordon met Jack his friend seemed to be more certain about another war being on the way. "Hitler and his friends are using Spain as a trial run. Mark my words!"
Gordon pondered what Jack said . He was an influential speaker and always convinced he was right. Jack would make a good politician, carrying conviction as he moved his ideas around on swings and roundabouts. "The time for action is near!" had replaced his, "We must never fight again!"
Gordon was being swayed. Jack loaned him books and pamphlets about what was going on in Spain. They made worrying reading. It did not seem fair that Britain's old enemy, Germany, should be helping the militarist general, Franco. Britain was standing by and letting democracy be beaten by the Fascists. Volunteers from many countries in Europe were going to Spain to help the democratically elected Republicans. No nation was oficially supporting them. The appeasers were feeding Hitler's fermenting ambitions.
Gordon watched Michael playing with his toys. He observed Gwyn, always happy and smiling back at him. He counted his blessings. He did not want their future to be threatened in any way. The last thing he wanted was war. And yet?
One good thing was that little Michael was nearly old enough for school. Margaret had seen Mr. Joy, the Headmaster of St. Anne's, and he'd agreed to take him after Christmas. It would not affect Gordon all that much but perhaps his wife would be more relaxed if she only had Gwyn to worry about during most of the day.
Before he went to bed, Gordon would look at the innocent faces of his sleeping children. It was hard to think that they were growing up in a world of increasing uncertainty. It seemed, as the months passed by, that big decisions were coming nearer, which would drastically affect the children's future. It was a worry for everyone and Gordon was a born worrier!
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