- Contributed by听
- fruitpickers
- People in story:听
- ethel vawdrey
- Location of story:听
- Scotland
- Article ID:听
- A2122822
- Contributed on:听
- 10 December 2003
During the last war many older school children were asked to help in various ways on the Home Front. Selling flags, assisting at charities fetes, and entertaining the elderly in various ways were all my favourite 鈥渄uties.
I was aged 13 and attended James Gillespies School for Girls in Edinburgh. During Assembly one day, the Headmistress told us that pupils from all over Scotland were being recruited to pick raspberries during Blairgowrie 鈥 a well known fruit growing area. There was a great demand as most of the regular 鈥減ickers鈥 where now serving the in the forces.
Interested pupils were given forms for Parental approval and I couldn鈥檛 wait to take mine home that day.
In mid-August, 40 of us and 4 staff members left the Waverley Station by steam train. We when arrived at Blairgowrie we walked in pairs to our base, which consisted of three Nissan huts. What a disappointment! I had pictured 鈥榮omething鈥 cosier, completely forgetting it was war time.
A friendly figured appeared who introduced himself as Andrew Geekie. He soon made us familiar with our surroundings and told us we would be taken by truck in relays every day by him to and from the fruit fields. I couldn鈥檛 sleep the first night as the matress felt very hard compared with the one on my bed at home.
After an early breakfast we were each given a packed lunch, then set off to 鈥渂ag鈥 a place in Andrew鈥檚 truck. The fruit fields seemed never-ending as we were divided to work in drills (long narrow lanes for picking the raspberries). One friendly farmer was constantly reminding us 鈥渟tart at the top of the drells lassies and pick clean鈥.
We took his advice and filled our buckets on each picking. It was also very satisfying handing them to be weighed on out first of many days picking in the fields.
Leisure time consisted of card games until an old 78鈥 gramophone (complete with a cracked recording of 鈥淕oodnight Vienna鈥) turned up out of the blue. With Andrew鈥檚 help it was soon in working order and we couldn鈥檛 wait to visit the town to choose a Glen Miller Favourite.
However, word had spread that we were not allowed to visit Blairgowrie un-chaperoned because of a high military presence there. Weekends where precious and the staff co-operated well by surprising us with visit's to the cinema and of course, the gramophone shop.
We bough not but two Glen Millar hits which we left behind for the influx of raspberries pickers.
Along with other parents, my mother paid a visit one day. To help out our rations she handed over a box that contained a cooked chicken. No one dared ask any questions鈥..
Our last day arrived and I felt sad to be leaving what we are now familiar surroundings. However, there were many experiences to share with friends and relatives once we settled at home.
Having been accustomed to working out doors, my appetite had increased with 鈥榥ear fatal鈥 results. Accidentally, I ate my Fathers meat ration along with my own one day. An anonymous poem arrived a few days later 鈥
A cow and a pig, will buy today
And in the garden will let them play
鈥榯ill Ethel, she with envious eyes
Thinks of the nice big juicy pies she鈥檒l have if either of them dies
HUNGRY ETHEL G.
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