大象传媒

Those in farming at the outbreak of war were urged to stay in farming rather than volunteer for the Forces. We could not afford to be so completely dependant on imported food, as had been the case up till now. The Home Farmers would have to produce most of the basic foods needed. The Stay-at Homes would be enrolled into a Home Defence Force known as the Local Defence Volunteers. The members of this force were issued with armbands, and told to arm themselves with their pitchforks, scythes, billhooks, or any other dangerous implement.

Obviously, this situation was not sensible, or sustainable. The War Office realised it had a large stock of the old Lee Enfield rifles left over from the First World War. Today鈥檚 Army looked down on them as Obsolete, left over from the dark ages. With these out-of-date weapons, and a khaki uniform, the L.D.V. could be transformed into a disciplined Home Defence Force, henceforth to be known as THE HOME GUARD. We had training under retired Officers, some from the regular army, and some with fond memories of their Glory Days as officers in the First World War. None of us involved in this Call to Arms treated it as the joke that the Enemy would look at with derision.

Each Private was issued with a clip of five rounds only. How we treasured those first Five Rounds. When an aerial dog-fight took place over our area, we would press the clip of FIVE CARTRIDGES into the magazine of our rifles and go out in our car, hoping to capture a German Prisoner of War from among those who had to take to their parachutes.. No matter how hard we tried, the military seemed to get there first. So it was back home, to empty the magazine, and replace the five rounds into the clip. That clip of five rounds was our most treasured possession. Not one round was expendable frivolously. It was what stood behind our freedom from being over-run by the enemy.

But things move on. The danger moves ever closer. Glory Be! We are issued with Fifteen Rounds Apiece Suddenly, I am AFFLUENT. I walk the farm, accompanied as usual by my faithful dog, but carrying my Lee Enfield Rifle. I am a mighty arm in the def3nce of my land.. That鈥檚 as maybe. But this is My Land, and I have every right to carry arms over it. We come to the lowest limit of my land, a flat field of about six acres. On the right, it is bounded by a copse that supplies the farm with its fence-posts, it鈥檚 firewood and wild mushrooms. Just this side of the woods, a cock pheasant is strutting. How tempting an opportunity to test my marksmanship with the Lee Enfield. I remember all the instruction I was given, on the Firing Range.

With my dog ordered to lie still beside me, I took the full prone position with the legs at Fifteen to One, with the sights set for 200 yards, held my breath, and fired. Once that shot had fired, my dog bounded up and raced to the target. I had hit the pheasant, but not killed it. I had shot one leg clean off. I finished the bird off in the customary manner. I brought the bird home to the wife, expecting her to be pleased with his addition to the larder. She would have none of it. The dog had held it in it鈥檚 mouth, even momentarily. I gave my prize tour farmhand, who received it very thankfully. That was one of my Fifteen Rounds gone.

My wife liked our infant son to take the air in his pram just out-of-doors by our house. One day, I heard her calling me frantically, so naturally I armed myself with my trusty Lee-Enfield, fully loaded, and came up to the house, to find that a stoat or a weasel, or maybe even a feral ferret was rampaging near our baby鈥檚 pram. It must have been in some sort of season, because it smelled vile. I dare not set the dog on it, because the odds would have been in favour of the wild thing. Instead, I lifted my Lee Enfield to my shoulder, took careful aim, and fired. I killed that creature, at the same time, taking a chip out of the brick-work. My fifteen rounds were gradually diminishing, as was my value as a soldier, as the War neared it鈥檚 close.

漏 Jack Alper January 2005

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