大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War website by Pat Hayward from CSV Action Desk on behalf of K Tonley and has been added to the site with her permission. Mrs Tonley fully understands the sites terms and conditions.

From the start of the war I worked as a nurse with the British Red Cross. I did my training at Selly Oak and then went to Queen Elizabeth. I looked after casualties from the military. I caught an ear infection and you couldn鈥檛 work in hospital with an ear infection but you still had to do work of national importance. My brother and I worked on our Dad鈥檚 allotment in Dad鈥檚 Lane. Dad grew potatoes and vegetables he believed in growing things you could eat. We used to sell everything on a Saturday so I liked working for Dad and getting money to put food on the table. We were very poor

All this lead to me joining the Women鈥檚 Land Army in 1941. I went to recruitment in Foregate Street in Worcester. I had brown shoes, walking out shoes- khaki colour socks up to breeches - corduroy breeches of a brown colour. Cream short sleeved shirt with an open necked-collar. Dark green sweater 戮 coat of tawney/ brown and matching hat. I was billeted in Lemington Spa at a private farm. It was 4 陆 miles walk to the station from the farm. Nothing but fields and cows, I worked for Welsh people, I was the only Land Army girl. They had an adopted daughter, she met me at the station. I had to get up at 5 am, wash outside at the pump, then I had a mug of tea and a slice of dry toast for breakfast. I had to round cows up for milking, get them into the cow shed and hook them up 10 at a time. Then you got hold of their tails and rolled it up, you washed under their udders, then you鈥檇 get the milking machine but they didn鈥檛 like the noise of it. It was very primitive but you did it. Milk bottles were washed in a big old fashioned tin bath which was sterilised with Milton. Milk went through a cooler like a scrubbing board and you had to get it in by hand to the bottles then put the tops on. The milk left-over went into urns then posted to the end of the drive for another dairy farmer to pick them up. All the deck was then hosed down- there was never a minute to ourselves. The farmer鈥檚 wife used to converse in Welsh to her husband when she brought your mug of tea out so you didn鈥檛 know what she was saying about you.

Everything was pot roasted- we only saw an egg once a week. Porridge was cooked on a wood open range fire so you could taste the smoke, but you were too hungry to complain. Later you鈥檇 go into the fields- acres of them on the thrashing machine and bale all the hay, it was a fiddly job. Lunch would be brought into the fields, thick bread, blackcurrant jam, perhaps some boiled bacon. There wasn鈥檛 enough to eat most of the time. You鈥檇 return to the cottage around 6 pm for your pot roast, or cold boiled bacon and cabbage cooked in the juice the bacon was cooked in, with cold potatoes.

I had weekend leave, I never wanted to go back, but I had to duty called. One Saturday my arm for very burned by the sun. Great blisters came up and the farmer鈥檚 wife showed very little sympathy. A boy who worked there took me back to his parents in the village and his mom dressed my arms. I was very grateful. The infection lasted about 4 weeks and I couldn鈥檛 use my arms for milking so I was given other work in turnip and carrot field and cleaning out horses.

Altogether I stayed around 2 years. My brother and his wife came to see me and to tell me that my younger brother had been on the Burma Road in the 14th Army and had died of his wounds. They were appalled and took me home, and I never went back.

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