大象传媒

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When war broke out I was nine years old.
My father didn鈥檛 pass the medical, but worked as a lorry driver. Food was rationed and although it was sufficient to live a healthy life people did what they could to ease the food problem and get a little more. Hence the black market and poaching.

Nearly everyone kept a couple of chickens in their back garden, so they could have an egg now and then, and a chicken for Christmas (this was a real treat). I remember Mum pickling them with shells intact in a preservative called 鈥榳ater glass鈥�.

This was when Dad became a poacher. He started off by setting rabbit snares, then bought a couple of ferrets and a dozen flams (nets to put over rabbit holes), and every Sunday morning we would bike to places like Roade, Harlestone Firs, Cottesbrooke, Naseby etc. By this time dad had learned to knit his own flams and started to knit a long net to catch rabbits at night. I was 10 years old then and an accomplished poacher with snares and ferrets, although quite often I would return home with an empty bag (perhaps someone had been there before me).

As I said, I was 10 years old and dad had finished knitting his long net 鈥� it was about 120-140 yards long by 3 feet high, and was capable of catching quite a few rabbits. There was only one problem; you could only use it at night and it took two people to use it 鈥� one to work the net and kill the rabbits, and one to run a beating line round the field to shoo the rabbits into the net. Dad was on the net, this left me (10 years old) to walk round the fields with the line, now that doesn鈥檛 sound much, but to a ten year old walking round a field at midnight, or later, when you shouldn鈥檛 be there is a different thing altogether. Your imagination works overtime and a bush in the field can turn into a keeper or another poacher etc, so you close your eyes for a few seconds and it becomes a bush again.
Then one night as I was using the beating line I heard this really heavy breathing close behind me, turning round I saw a cow about two feet from my backside, I tried to shoo it away but it wouldn鈥檛 go so I clouted it with my stick. It went but after a few minutes it was back again, it got another wallop; this time it didn鈥檛 come back but I got a telling off for making enough noise to wake the dead never mind the farmer or his keeper. On the next set the wind dropped and dad said 鈥渨e鈥檒l catch no more tonight鈥�, but we can鈥檛 go home at 2 am because with the war going on it was suspicious if you were out at that time and the police seemed to be very efficient in those days. So he suggested that we eat the orange that he had, then we could have a kip in the hayrick (which we did). I fell asleep almost immediately but was awakened later on by what I thought was the hay being gently blown over my hands and around my mouth, but I couldn鈥檛 hear it so I gently opened my eyes, and four rats (two each side) that were licking my lips vanished. But the tickling on my hands continued, so I slowly looked down on them. Both hands were surrounded with rats licking the orange juice off them. I must have flinched because they vanished, so I turned over and went back to sleep. I was wakened by vigorous shaking, we had overslept, it was getting light and the farmer etc would be about so we hurried back to go through the field with the cow in it. We got to the gate and on the other side stood the biggest bull I have ever seen, dad said he was in a bad mood because I had spoiled his night鈥檚 sleep. We would round the field.

When I was 11 and 12 we would sometimes net two or three fields and catch nothing and dad would say 鈥渟omeone is in front of us鈥�, so we went home empty handed. The country locals had beaten us to it. On other occasions we were before them and they were pretty angry, they hurried to catch us up, then would pretend to be police or keepers by shouting 鈥渨e鈥檝e got them鈥� etc hoping we would run away and leave our kit, but they didn鈥檛 know my father, or me if it comes to that, I was told 鈥測ou don鈥檛 leave your kit and you stand by your mates鈥�, and that I did. Sometimes it was an angry discussion with us taking what we had caught and letting them go in front and us home. Other times the country locals were looking for trouble and coshes and pegs were used. It was a hard life. After a night out I fell asleep at school.

Other times we have walked across airfields and even army camps, but at 2am there鈥檚 hardly anyone about. One night we heard the challenge 鈥渉alt who goes there 鈥� advance and be recognised鈥�. My dad motioned me to be quiet and remain still. We stood stock still for ten minutes, before crawling through a hole in the hedge and walking through the camp.

P.S. We used to get 2/6 (12 陆 pence) per rabbit if we sold them, but they filled our stomachs and a lot of people wanted them. We got 3d per rabbit skin from Tommy Wharf in Bull Head Lane.

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