PRATS one and all from John Watts

When I joined the GPO I found we were called ‘God’s Poor Orphans’ and during my career it changed its name to Post Office (PO) and by the time I retired it was known as British Telecom (BT). Throughout my career I have learned to live with abbreviations so that anyone listening to a conversation between any GPO/PO/BT engineer will think they have gone to another country. Imagine someone listening in and hearing you say “Give me a dis on the IDF because I’ve got an earth on my P wire and it’s causing PETs on my Finals” As we moved into the electronic era it got even worse with MCUs, SPUs & Cyclic Stores. I retired in 1992 and moved to East Sussex in 2000. Having worked in London all my career I was keen to maintain links with my old colleagues and often visit Croydon for an ‘Old Boy’ Meeting once a month’ and YES, we still talk about ‘P’ wires and MCUs etc.
Having moved to this area I was roped in to help ‘Re-launch’ Neighbourhood Watch (NW) in Polegate. It was at a NW meeting held in East Dean that I bumped into a familiar face from the past - it was Roy Peacock. We chatted over past times and the people we had known and then Roy told me about the walks he and other ex BT men did and asked me if I would like to be a PRAT. I recovered my composure quickly because I always remembered Roy as a gentleman and not one prone to giving insult. Well, to cut a long story short, I joined and was delighted to meet an exceedingly good bunch of ex BT blokes. Among the band of happy wanderers are some ‘Honorary PRATS’ who are guest walkers. These chaps who did not work for BT have carved a special place into the group and share in all the good comradeship. Recently one of the guest walkers said to me that he had been in Banking all his working life and he was amazed how we BT types (years after retirement) still talk about ‘the job’. He said that when he meets old colleagues they never talk about Banking. I explained that to have been a GPO etc. engineer means you have become part of a close knit brotherhood. You could go anywhere in the country and two BT men could meet and talk the same language and be good friends. Perhaps that is why we still talk in abbreviations and call ourselves the PRATS. (One has to remember to explain to outsiders that the letters stand for Pensioners Rambling And Trekking Society). I nearly got my face slapped by a lady in a car park who was putting on her walking shoes and I asked her if she was one of the PRATS). That could have resulted in a nasty fault on my ‘P’ wire leaving me with a PG (permanent glow).