大象传媒

After a year at Jealott鈥檚 Hill we transferred to various hostels around Berkshire. I accompanied Mrs Brown to Strathfield House in the centre of Mortimer West End, south of Reading. It accommodated about twenty girls, mostly from the north of England.

I knew I was in for a busy time and it wasn鈥檛 made easier when I was given a small box room to share with Tony Herbert. It was so cramped there was just enough space for two beds, a dressing table and one small table; the wardrobe was outside on the landing. We later became great friends, but on that first meeting she didn鈥檛 welcome me at all. She was determined to make life difficult because she resented my taking the place of her best friend as Forewoman.

I was woken up at 6 o鈥檆lock on my first morning at Strathfield House by a ringing bell sounded by the cook, Elizabeth Fowler. We had to make our own sandwiches and as I was walking out of the bedroom, Tony called out, 鈥榊ou can get mine!鈥� I turned round and announced firmly, 鈥業f you want sandwiches, jolly well get up and make your own!鈥� She was stunned by this, but from then our friendship grew.

Tony came from a titled family. Her mother was the Hon. Mrs Herbert and her Godfather was Lord Canaervon of Highclere Castle. She had been brought up at the family home, Tetton House near Taunton in Somerset, where she was used to a butler and servants. This status gave her privileges no one else in the hostel could have imagined. She had the luxury of a single-bar electric fire which was strictly against the hostel rules, and a Shetland Collie dog named Swift.
鈥楳y horse is arriving by train tomorrow,鈥� she declared one day. I thought this was a joke, but she was deadly serious. Arrangements had been made to transport it from Somerset and we had to quickly find stabling. Eventually, the landlord of 鈥楾he Turner鈥檚 Arms鈥� agreed to rent the field at the back of his pub, 200 yards from the hostel.

We met the train at Mortimer Station and I was greeted by a beautiful horse, which was soon happily grazing in the field. Tony planned to ride each evening and persuaded another girl, Barbara, and myself to join her. We had great fun as neither of us had ever sat on a horse before, though we did improve as the weeks passed by.

鈥淲here is Swift?鈥� Tony asked anxiously at dinner one evening. We searched the house and grounds of Strathfield House, and then realised that poor Shep must have been left at the farm in Maidenhead where we had been working that day. Dinner was abandoned as we set off on a rescue mission in the car. We arrived at the farm to find Swift dutifully waiting for us by the gate.

Tony once invited me to spend a weekend at Tetton House. It was as I imagined a stately mansion should be, even though parts had been closed for the war and much of the furniture was covered in dust sheets. Some of the rooms were used as a war hospital for wounded servicemen. Her mother was charming and I felt at home straightaway. I was waited on by Phillip, the butler and slept in an enormous library. Later, Tony invited me to her sister鈥檚 wedding at St. Margaret鈥檚 Chapel in Westminster.

Sadly, Tony left the Land Army due to ill health. She gave me Swift. I didn鈥檛 feel able to look after a dog at the hostel and so she was cared for by my aunt and uncle in Reading

Elizabeth Fowler, the cook lived with her mother at 鈥楪reengates鈥� in the village. She was an excellent cook and the food was an improvement on Jealott鈥檚 Hill. Even so, there were sometimes grumbles. Tony peered at her food as if she couldn鈥檛 believe what had been served on the plate.

Elizabeth and I shared a love of music and we became great friends, spending hours together in the company of her mother at 鈥楪reengates鈥�. Elizabeth gave me the nickname 鈥淭rippy鈥� and became Godmother to my daughter Anne at her Christening in 1950.

I was often asked to sing at various concerts. One was arranged by Miss Bayne Jardine (the Women鈥檚 Land Army rep.) and my aunt Olive kindly accompanied me on the piano. I also sang at a Harvest Supper at the home of Lady Mount at Wasing Place, Aldermaston. We were sometimes invited to dances in the district where troops were stationed and we arranged dances ourselves at Mortimer Village Hall. These were a mixed blessing for me as it usually fell to my lot to do the driving.

Driving could be hazardous with the blackout and no road signs, but there was one advantage in those days 鈥� you could park anywhere! Once a month, I took the Warden, Mrs. Brown into Reading and while she went shopping, I visited the Land Army Office in King鈥檚 Road to exchange or acquire new items of uniform. I could park wherever I liked, even in the main thoroughfares of Broad Street or Friar Street. How times have changed?

The garden at Strathfield House was looked after by Miss Hildrick-Smith, who shared a house in the village with her companion Miss Aldridge. Tall and well-built, Miss Hildrick-Smith was a distinctive character. She tied her hair in a bun and wore a string of pearls or beads round her head. She was very pleasant and often invited me to dinner. They owned a parrot which they occasionally let out into the room, although thankfully, never when I visited them!

The daily routine at Strathfield House began at 6 o鈥檆lock and by 8.30 we were hard at work on a farm. Getting up was never easy on a freezing winter鈥檚 morning and I remember that. Terry Bayman could never get herself moving. She was so bad that I sometimes used to tip her out of bed. She would look at me and say, 鈥榃hy pick on me?鈥� 鈥� it was the only way to get her moving.

大象传媒 was varied, but one always had to be cautious of hidden dangers. I arrived home from Holdstocks at Arborfield one evening after a day muckspreading with a swollen and badly infected finger. I was sent to the Royal Berkshire Hospital in Reading to have it lanced and given a few days rest. Shortly afterwards I met Miss Bayne-Jardine, our W.L.A. representative who was so concerned about my health that she sent me to Rest Break House, Torquay for a week鈥檚 convalescence. I felt a bit of a fraud, but thoroughly enjoyed my holiday by the sea.

On return to Strathfield House I found that it had been taken over for a two-week milking course and that everyone had been moved to the Ministry of Defence at Burghfield. This made my job much more difficult because the lack of a telephone meant that I couldn鈥檛 easily get the daily instructions from the Labour Office. However, we seemed to get by. From time to time an official from the Labour Office would visit to see that everything was working smoothly. On another occasion we de-camped to the WREN鈥檚 training base at H.M.S. Dauntless at Burghfield.

After a year as Forewoman, I was sent on a training course at Hewen鈥檚 Wood at Bradfield to qualify properly for my duties. This was run by Miss Del-la-Pole, known as Aunt Dell. I was taught first aid, vehicle maintenance, leadership, and agricultural tasks such as digging ditches and hedge laying. We were visited by a reporter and photographer and an article appeared in the following week鈥檚 edition of the 鈥淩eading Mercury鈥�. It was good to know that our efforts were being recognized and that the public might be interested in our work.

When it became impossible to work outside in the winter, we mended sacks in the clothes storage room at Strathfield House. There was lots of chatting and exchanging of stories. The gossip was always good humoured but sometimes took precedence over the work and it took all my efforts to make sure that the tasks were completed.

Potato picking was one of the most back breaking jobs. We worked in gangs, following the tractors as they progressed up each row. One had to work quickly to keep up. I remember working at Finchampstead, where the owner, Captain Washington supervised us from his horse, driving us like slaves.

Hoeing was also an exhausting task. A field of sugar beet or mangolds took on enormous proportions, and we longed for our breaks to come round; four hours hoeing in the morning was rewarded with a fifteen minute break, and then we would continue in the afternoon until the field was completed. After that? Well, there was always another farmer and another field waiting to be hoed!

When a work party was assigned to a poultry farm owned by Major Baker at Wokingham I made doubly sure that it didn鈥檛 include me, as I have a dread of chicken and poultry. My sense of relief was short-lived!

The Major was so pleased with the work that he invited me to join him for tea with his wife on the following Saturday as a thank you. I tried to put him off, but he became so insistent that in the end I had to accept. It seemed that my worst fears would literally come home to roost!

Saturday arrived and I reluctantly set out for Wokingham, hoping and praying that Major Baker wouldn鈥檛 take me on a tour of his farm. God smiled on me that afternoon and answered my prayers. The heavens opened and it bucketed down with rain. It was the most tremendous rain-storm you can imagine!

The Major and his wife were charming and apologised that it wouldn鈥檛 be possible to look around the farm 鈥� little did they know?

Farmers relied on horses to pull their wagons in those days. Tractors and mechanised equipment like combine-harvesters were a rarity, and quite primitive. There was a special sense of excitement during harvest when threshing machines arrived in the fields. These were hired from one of the contractors, either Parker鈥檚 or the Lucas family, who operated in the area, moving from farm to farm throughout harvest

A noisy steam traction engine would chug slowly up narrow lanes with the threshing machines in tow. Prior to threshing we used to prepare the corn in thatched ricks and pitch the individual sheaves to a girl who stood on top of the machine. The grain was collected in sacks and the straw was tied into bundles. It was dirty work, especially collecting the chaff and cavings; the mangled bits of straw that made choking dust as they came through the machine. However hard we tried to protect ourselves with a scarf tied tightly round the face and hair, the dust found its way into our eyes, ears, nose and throat. You can imagine how thirsty we became and a swig from a bottle of cold tea offered by one of the contractors was always gratefully accepted. Mice and rats used to scurry from the ricks and we enjoyed the sport of killing them with our pitchforks 鈥� there was nothing squeamish about Land Army Girls!

The Forewoman鈥檚 perk was having use of the Warden鈥檚 bathroom and avoiding the hurly-burly of the communal bathroom and the race for hot water. Soaking in hot water after a long day鈥檚 threshing was my idea of heaven.

Mr. Parker, the owner of one of the threshing sets, could be an irascible character and his coarse language was so shocking one day that it brought work at Mattick鈥檚 Farm at Grazely to a standstill. The girls were a good natured group but they were so outraged by his behaviour they refused to work. I found myself in the role of peacemaker, together with an official from the Labour Office. Work only resumed when we persuaded Mr. Parker to put an apology in writing. I still have a copy of his letter.

Barbara Peters, Joan Smith, Queenie Parker and I made a short journey to Mile End Farm on the Bath Road west of Reading on 4th May 1945 to be tested on our proficiency in market gardening and fieldwork. It was a welcome change and the warm spring sunshine seemed to herald the end of war. It was just as if we were emerging from six years of perpetual winter.

We were greeted by a formidable panel of local farmers, including Mr. Cumber who owned the farm and Squire Benyon from Englefield House. They questioned us about farming and we had to identify different examples of corn in their early stages of growth. There were practical tasks and I remember building a hayrick. At the end of an exhausting day I was delighted to learn that I had gained 83 marks and earned a badge and certificate of proficiency.

A letter was waiting for me on return to Strathfield House with the best news I could have wished for; a day鈥檚 holiday had been declared to mark the end of hostilities with Germany 鈥� the day we had all been hoping and praying for had finally arrived!

I was in Wokingham with a van-load of girls from Strathfield House when V.E. Day was officially celebrated on 8th May. The church bells rang out to announce that the war in Europe was over. It was hard to take-in and I was overcome with a sense of anti-climax. Most of the girls were wildly excited and eager to enjoy the promised holiday at Mortimer. While they made their celebrations, I quietly made my way home and spent the day with my family in Reading.

When I look back on my days in the Women鈥檚 Land Army I am a little saddened by the lack of official recognition our efforts received. We were never permitted to enter Service Clubs or to take part in any Victory Parades. We were rather a forgotten army!

There was some consolation when the Women鈥檚 Land Army Rally and County Fair was held in Windsor Great Park on 30th June 1945. This was organized in aid of the Women鈥檚 Land Army Benevolent Fund and attended by Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth and the Princesses, Elizabeth and Margaret Rose. Having been denied a place in the Victory Parades, seven hundred volunteers from the Land Army marched proudly through the streets of Windsor, led by the band of the Royal Horse Guards and formed up on the parade ground as Guard of Honour for the Royal party.

The Queen presented armlets to members who had completed five years service and toured the rally site to view the activities. There were all manner of displays, country dancing and competitions. Six of us entered the Best Dressed Team of Land Girls Competition. We were extremely smart and no matter that we didn鈥檛 win the prize 鈥� the day had been great fun and we enjoyed it tremendously.

The war continued in the Far East until August and VJ Day was officially celebrated on 4th September 1945. Servicemen gradually filtered back to resume their jobs on the land and the need for the Land Army became less urgent. I felt eager to get back to normal life and I applied for my release. I left the service on 1st January 1946.

I found work as a short-hand typist with the catering firm Peter Merchants, whose offices were in Berkeley Avenue, Reading. It was well paid work and I received the top rate of 鈧�5 per week 鈥� quite a difference to the pittance I had been paid in the Land Army!

I missed the open air terribly and it took a long time before I got used to the hot, stuffy atmosphere of the office. I stayed with the firm until September 1947 when I left to marry my dear husband George. We enjoyed fifty-five years of happily married life with our three children Elizabeth, Anne and Robert and six grandchildren; Timothy, Stephen, Rachel, Jonathan, Jeremy and Oliver, before his death in September 2002.

The war took away my youth, but I have no regrets about my service with the Women鈥檚 Land Army. It was a great experience. I saw life from a different angle, mixed with many people from a variety of backgrounds, gained knowledge and skills and became a much more confident person. By the end of the war I am not sure I would have recognized the shy young girl who signed up four years earlier. Above all, I served my country and did my bit to keep the food supplies going during time of war!

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