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We used to do our jobs and help out on the farm whilst we were being cared for in Oswestry.

I loved working on the farms, it was lovely. The only horse I’ve ever been on is one day when we were coming back after hay-making. I was lifted on top of the horse — that was the first time and the last time. I remember thinking it was like being on a mountain because I was only seven.

A funny story that I recall happened on the farm in Pant Glas:
We’d go down to collect the eggs and feed the lambs with their little bottles, and my brother used to let the big bulls out for their water.

I was with him one night and we only had a little stick with which to control the animals. He’d let one out and as he was doing that, I’d opened the door for the other one to come out, but they bellowed and they heard one another so they began charging around with us in the middle! I jumped over a five-barred gate without touching it and my brother was yelling for the cow-man to come out. Finally the cow-man came out with a big pitch-fork and managed to separate them, but it was a bit hair-raising.

This story was submitted to the People’s War site by Becky Barugh of the ´óÏó´«Ã½ Radio Shropshire CSV Action Desk on behalf of Mrs Marjorie McMahon and has been added to the site with her permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

See more of Marjorie's stories:

• Arms, Legs and Cockroaches
• Frank thoroughly enjoyed it here
• It’s alright, it’s only their nerves

See also Muriel Edwards’s stories:

• ‘Evacuees’ What are they?
• General De Gaulle was down the road
• They taught us and we taught them

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