Nimble hands and a sense of humour

‘Associated-Rediffusion . . . Can I help you? . . . One moment please’.

A nimble hand plugs the cord firmly into one of the 500 holes, or jacks as they are called, each representing an extension and the connection is established.

Did you know that our Private Branch Exchange handles calls at the rate of 150 an hour on average?

Supervisor Dorothy Brown and a staff of 10 telephonists work in shifts from 8.30 a.m. to the end of transmission at the eight positions into which the switchboard is divided. From 8 p.m. onwards only one operator is on duty unless an unusual influx of calls is expected.

At present we are using about 65 lines but the number will be increased to more than 100 shortly which will mean less waiting for free lines and fewer engaged signals for the outside caller.

Up to 40 telegrams a day are also handled in P.B.X.

They vary greatly in destination, language, length (up to 600 words) and cost (some telegrams cost as much as £50 [£950 in today’s money, allowing for inflation – Ed]) and as each word has to be spelled out by analogy this section of P.B.X. absorbs much time.

All routine office work connected with the running of the exchange, such as the issue of tickets for trunk calls, book keeping and checking figures with accounts department, is also done by the telephonists themselves.

The board indicators also have to be kept up to date continuously. They show where members of the staff can be contacted if out of their offices, where rehearsals are taking place and which teams are connected with them.

Many of the P.B.X. staff have been with the company since its embryonic beginnings. They will never forget those chaotic days when we first moved to Television House while the workmen still had very much the upper hand. The rusty old Air Ministry switchboard, relegated to a state of comfortable disintegration, had to be coaxed back into unaccustomed activity. This was no mean feat as some of the cords were completely useless and the rest were stiff and unmanageable.

On top of this, manual working was the rule. To the uninitiated this means that every local call had to be connected instead of members of the staff dialling their own numbers. The noise of the workmen frequently drowned the voices at the other end of the line and, as the switchboard had to be shared with ATV, a mild state of confusion was unavoidable.

To add to the telephonists’ trials and tribulations in those days, there was no internal telephone directory so it was left to their individual ingenuity and Supt. Lockhart qualities to find out where to contact the people concerned and to track them down in offices or studios, at rehearsals and committee meetings.

Those were the primitive days of hurricane lamps which had to be pumped up periodically and of walks down to Kingsway station in the interest of sanitation – the days which for some inexplicable reason, despite discomforts, none of us would have missed.

Among those who recall them in P.B.X. are:

Mrs Dorothy Brown, the supervisor, who has a son of 20 and likes to get away to her country refuge in Suffolk whenever she gets a chance. Apart from outdoor life she is very fond of opera and the ballet.

Mrs Phyllis Laycock, head telephonist, who has a boy of 15 and girl of 13 and likes to play bridge.

Mrs Ziska Branford, whose hobbies arc dancing and the theatre; Miss Barbara Knight, who loves driving and painting; Mrs Doreen Osborn, married to Ikon Osborn, one of our film camera men which accounts for her hobby: photography; Mrs Eve Tickner, who is fond of riding and Mrs Margaret Baston, mother of a 15-year-old daughter.

A very popular member of the P.B.X. staff is Pat Pullen, who lost her husband some years ago and joined the company in 1957 to help bring up her three children now aged 9, 11 and 13, and who still manages to do her own dressmaking and interior decorating.

Mrs Grace Roberts is the only grandmother in the room and a very modern one at that since she is fond of fencing and motoring.

To round off the galaxy of Associated-Rediffusion telephonists there is Winnie Perkins, mother of two teenage children, Anita Milligan who loves to watch wrestling, Pat Brazier, an ex-Queen Mary telephonist and Margaret Head who has the most appropriate hobby of all: watching TV.

Altogether they are a happy team. None of the staff has ever left for any lesser reason than to emigrate or to have babies.

The operator’s job is a thankless one for her unobtrusive efficiency is usually taken for granted while the slightest delay or – heaven forbid – a wrong connection brings her immediately into the foreground with frayed tempers and impatient criticism.

Because she does not directly contribute to any of the company’s activities the telephonist is also often placed on a somewhat lower level of importance, unfairly so, of course, since none of us could do without her and she can rightly claim to have – literally and metaphorically speaking – a hand in everything.

In addition to ordinary business calls, our P.B.X. acts as an overflow for the Duty Officer and handles many viewers’ calls, usually a comment of some sort on one of the programmes or performers, and ranging from the highest possible praise to the lowest possible abuse. Typical complaints we get from people who are apparently oblivious of the most obvious alternative at their disposal:

‘This programme was utter tripe, I demand to speak to the General Manager’. ‘My children have ruined my furniture and carpet with buckets of water and flour after seeing your slapstick comedy show!’ ‘I distinctly saw a shadow on the newscaster’s upper lip, surely he is not thinking of growing a moustache?’

Discretion, diplomacy and a good sense of humour arc high up on the list of essential requirements for all our telephonists when it comes to sorting out the constructive criticism type of complaint from the trivial, ignorant or abusive. Serious, controversial programmes generally provoke a flood of calls from viewers with strong views on the subject.

Some callers are unmistakably the worse for drink. There is a woman who rings up regularly after ‘Cool for Cats’ asking to speak to Kent Walton. There is even the occasional crank to contend with and sometimes a flood of obscene language, but our operators take it all in their stride.

Children ring up frequently to discuss some programme detail or to ask to speak to their favourite heroes such as William Tell or Robin Hood. It is not uncommon for them to sing advertising jingles to the telephone operator.

Once an obviously very young viewer asked if she could speak to Pussy Cat Willum. The operator could not get a reply from the department concerned so, rather than disappoint the child, she put on a most convincing imitation of Pussy Cat Willum much to the delight of the little girl and – I should imagine – to the astonishment of anyone unsuspectingly entering P.B.X. at the time.

What about us, I asked. How do we rate as individual subscribers in P.B.X.? Well, the telephonists’ long service record indicates that we must at least be tolerable and they had a lot of encouraging things to say about us generally but, just in case you want to brush up your ‘phone-side’ manner’, here is the expert’s idea of the perfect subscriber.

He, or she, is . . .

Considerate: He always tells P.B.X. when he moves his office, changes his extension, engages new staff.

Patient: He takes delays in his stride, taps only twice when he wants a call transferred and if he does not get an answer from the switchboard right away he does not immediately conclude that the telephonists have all conspired against him or are taking a crafty nap.

Tolerant: If he gets cut off accidentally he does not blow his top. (Incidentally, women are more temperamental than men when this happens.)

Polite: He is respectful and treats the operator as a helpmate without claiming to have a monopoly on her services. He is appreciative and does not always disguise it.

Well, what do you think your chances are to win the Associated-Rediffusion Oscar for the most considerate subscriber?