大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by Bill Ross of the 鈥楢ction Desk 鈥� Sheffield鈥� Team on behalf of Mary Cooper, and has been added to the site with Mary's permission. She fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

Part One is at: A4431575

continued........

The local bus ran once a week and went into Banbury at 2 p.m. It returned at 6 p.m. That was the highlight of the week, but more often than not, we鈥檇 miss the bus and then we would have to walk the six miles home. Oh, what happy days.

We changed our digs and made a good move. I was billeted with a lady and her three boys. Her husband was in the R.A.F. They had left Chesterfield for work in Banbury. We all got along very well; she was a good Yorkshire cook and she looked after me very well. In return, I did baby sitting for her and helped around the house. We became good friends, which we are to this day; I still go to Banbury to visit her. When I lived with her, her boys were aged 2, 4 and 6. Today (2005) they are family men in their sixties with children of their own. I have such happy memories of them all.

Whilst on a neighbouring farm, I learnt to milk, and the minute the W.L.A. Headquarters heard of this, they started to send me all over the county to help out with milking. I would have to be up at 5.30 to milk 100 cows, up to the knees in muck and slosh. For some reason, I loved every minute of it.

One place I was sent to go milking was for a General. He was an old tartar who lived in a converted barn. He had his batman to look after him; the poor man, he was terrified. Although the General had a false leg, he could still do things such as ride a horse, drive a car and a tractor. Sometimes I had to go with him, either on horseback or in the car, to round up the cattle on his land. Being a typical General, he would get very cross, then he would soften up and say, 鈥淕o and make yourself some butter in the dairy and send it home for your parents.鈥� It went all the way from Chipping Norton to Barnsley.

My final move was into a hostel where I became a forewoman in charge of forty girls. I had to learn to drive a little Hillman Minx van. Just two weeks on the road and I was away, driving in the blackout, with only tiny slits of light being allowed to show during the blackout.

We received lots of invitations to the R.A.F. and Army camps, to their dances and parties, where we had a wonderful time. I had to drive the little van which was supposed to hold only eight people, but more often than not, there would be twelve piled in, all coming home from the dance. One night, we were all singing away merrily, when suddenly, there was a flat tyre. I was dressed in my party dress, but I had to get out and change the wheel. As it was in the blackout, the only light I could use came from a tiny torch. The matron was waiting and she accepted no excuses. We were grounded as punishment for being late.

It was a good thing we had a bit of social life because we really had to work hard for our 25 shillings (拢1.25p) a week. We ploughed the land, milked the cows, did threshing, thatching, hedging, ditching, in fact, you name it and we did it. We also had to work with the German and Italian prisoners; they used to share their food with us. They were treated far better than we were.

I could go on and write a book, but I will stop now, but I would just say that after all the hard work, I regard my days in the W.L.A. as some of the happiest days of my life. We are still in touch with each other and remain friends. I will finally add that I have sung in the presence of the late Queen Mother at the Royal Albert Hall in London. We sang the songs, 鈥淩un Rabbit, Run Rabbit鈥� and 鈥淭he White Cliffs Of Dover鈥� at a Land Army Reminiscence, comprising of five hundred Land Girls.

Oh happy days!

Mary Cooper (nee Bell).

Pr-BR

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