“What I will always recall is Stirl’s view on modern driver rates of pay”
DOUG NYE
IN MY LAST COUPLE OF YEARS AT SCHOOL before motor racing’s lure proved irresistible, I used to cycle at weekends to the rifle ranges at Bisley, where I’d work as a marker, cowering in the target butts. It was pretty good fun, with the supersonic crack of bullets whanging overhead, the buzz of the occasional ricochet, and the frequent bawling-out via the field telephone for not having marked a shot (which usually meant the relevant ‘marksman’ couldn’t hit a barn door and had missed by miles).
The big point was that my teenage job paid 30 bob a day, 30 shillings, £1.50 – pretty darned good back in 1961-62. It represents a 2021-22 value of £34.25 – so 68 quid for a weekend’s work, no overheads beyond a packed sandwich lunch and a bottle of Tizer. At 16-17, what’s not to like?