大象传媒

Gamrie (Gardenstown), Banffshire
(Mainly about living in the area during WW2)
(John M Cameron, Stranraer)

Gamrie Parish was originally that part of Banffshire which extended east of the River Deveron along the Moray Firth coast. Later, the Parish of Gardenstown covered the village and Macduff Parish extended two to three miles east of that town. Gamrie Parish was truly a country parish.

I really have very few memories of the war affecting family and school life other than a number of evacuees arriving in the area. Because air-raid shelters had to be built at the local school, my starting school was slightly delayed until the work was finished. The three concrete block shelters round the school were on ground level, each built with the main entrance some three or four from the wall of the school building with a low 鈥渆scape鈥� tunnel exit in case of emergency on the side away from the school. I remember that there were practices during which the classes went into the shelters. We had to have a cork with us; presumably to put between our teeth to prevent biting our tongues if there was blast. There were slatted wooden seats round the wall and my lasting memory of them is that they were very smelly dark places. With hindsight I wonder how effective these shelters would have been; fortunately they did not have to be tested in action.

Farming life continued to be influenced by changing seasons. Dad had his church and parish work as well as his duties with the Observer Corps. One story I remember being told was about a farmer who was visited by 鈥榤en from the ministry鈥� 鈥楶lough up that field. It should be producing a crop and not grass. 鈥楴o I won鈥檛鈥� was the farmer鈥檚 reply 鈥業鈥檓 not going to plough up a field of winter barley鈥�. There鈥檚 no record of the ministry鈥檚 response!

There were at the time very few cars in the area, most of the farms still used horses so that a horse drawn cart was a common sight, but I cannot remember of anyone just riding a horse, except taking it to or from the fields.

Shopping for groceries meant either a walk to Dubford Post Office which also had a shop or wait until the various vans came round. Country people could not 鈥榥ip down to the shops鈥� and would always have a reserve; in winter the roads could be, and in fact were, blocked with snow for weeks on end 鈥� but the majority of people in the rural areas were prepared. Clearing roads was done by men with shovels.

Because we had the only telephone, other than that at the PO, we did on occasions have a nearby farmer come to use it. The telephone was the type which had a pillar with the mouthpiece at the top; the earpiece hung at the side on a bracket which doubled as a switch, the pressure of the earpiece being sufficient to disconnect the telephone. We always knew when this particular farmer had used the telephone 鈥� he always hung the earpiece upside down.

The glebe which either surrounded Church of Scotland manses, or was situated nearby, was for the benefit of the minister, forming part of his stipend. In the past, the land which, in some cases could be quite extensive, was cultivated either by the minister himself or was let out by him with the rents being added to his income. Our manse had a steading (outbuildings), which could house horses and cattle, although it had been a number years since any animals had occupied the stable or byre. We did however keep goats for their milk. Although Dad had kept goats in a previous parish, one reason for their being in Gamrie was that at a very early age I had caught Bovine Tuberculosis, presumably from infected cow鈥檚 milk. Come to think of it that was odd as no one else in the family was affected. The local doctor carried out an operation on the swollen gland; he must have been skilled at surgery as there is only a slight, almost invisible, scar on the left side of my neck.

During the war years, and until he retired in January 1960, Dad farmed the Glebe, although later it was let out only for grazing. As part of the war effort, the Glebe was cultivated but due to the contours of the land less than a dozen acres could be easily ploughed. The only suitable crop to grow was corn, most of the crop ending up as animal feed. Dad arranged with a local farmer to do the work of ploughing, sowing, harrowing and reaping, all this being by horse-drawn machines. At harvest time, the first task was to cut 鈥榬oads鈥� round the outside of the field; these were cut using a scythe and the corn was gathered by hand and tied into sheaves. No string for this - the binding was a band made on the corn itself, skilfully tied round the sheaf. The 鈥榬oad鈥�, wide enough for the reaping machine to travel round the field, was to prevent damage to the crop by the passage of horse and machine. The reaping machine was known as a 鈥榖inder鈥� 鈥� this cut the crop, bundling and trying it into sheaves. These were then arranged by hand in 鈥榮tooks鈥�; six or eight sheaves in pairs arranged in a tent like arrangement. All the 鈥榮tooks鈥� were lined up on Bennachie the mountain which was visible some 25 miles away to the SSE. I thought there must be some superstitious reason for this. The reality was much more prosaic 鈥� this alignment meant that each side of the 鈥榮tooks鈥� received equal amounts of sunshine which would dry them.

Later the 鈥榮team mill鈥� would arrive to thresh the corn. The mill was pulled by a steam engine from farm to farm. The driver would sleep overnight in the Manse and Mam would always have to make sure that the sheets were washed immediately 鈥� the driver, as well as his clothing, was ingrained with soot! Thrashing Day at a farm was a big social event locally. It was a co-operative operation. Farmers and their men would come along to help on the unwritten understanding that they would receive help when it came to their turn. Dad could not reciprocate as he was not nearly fit enough 鈥� but the men always were sure of substantial meals at the Manse.

Towards the end of the war and for some time afterwards a number of POWs worked on the local farms where everyone would normally have spoken in a very broad Buchan accent. Eddie, the POW, was able to hold a conversation with the family where he worked. On one occasion Helen, the eldest daughter wished to say something to her mother but didn鈥檛 want Eddie to understand. She had to speak in English! It could have been Eddie or another POW who came along to help with the steam mill at the Manse. Mam had put an old sack outside the back door so that the men could wipe their feet as they entered the large manse kitchen for their meal at mid-day. As the men duly wiped their feet the sack became rumpled up but no-one bothered 鈥� except the POW who bent down and straightened it out before wiping his feet. Mam was most impressed!

I believe the steam mill was based in Banff where the feedstuffs company was based. They also had a steam wagon which went round the countryside. This was particularly useful in time of petrol rationing as coal, unlike petrol, did not have to be imported. The Manse was situated halfway up a hill so we could see if the steam wagon was coming along the road below. I would be at the roadside expecting it to pass after a short time but sometimes it took much longer. The reason was that at the bottom of the hill there was a burn and the driver had refilled the boiler.

Dubford Post Office as well as its official functions of post office and local shop was the centre for information i.e. gossip! Dad died in 1967 and Mam in 1976; the house, to which they had moved after Dad had retired, was sold. After that I did not return to Gamrie regularly but, until the post office closed only a few years ago, I would always pop in to find out what was happening in the district.

Rationing didn鈥檛 appear to affect us unduly. In the unused barn and byres in the steading there was space for a large flock of hens; we had plenty of eggs for eating at home and for baking as well as for sale. One of the grocers鈥� vans which called weekly, collected the eggs which had been wiped and packed into 鈥榝lats鈥� which, I think, held 2陆 dozen eggs. These were then packed into crates which probably held a total of about 300 eggs. During the war, Dad and Mam sent eggs, as well as butter from a neighbouring farm, to Dad鈥檚 sisters in Newcastle upon Tyne and in Glasgow. Dad made a wooden box into which a cardboard box filled with eggs was fitted. Regularly, it could have been as frequently as weekly, a box of eggs was sent to Glasgow while a box of butter would be send to Newcastle upon Tyne. Next time the mailing would be reversed. I do not remember many occasions when the eggs were broken on receipt. Hens which had gone 鈥榦ff lay鈥� appeared on the dining table!

Scottish country manses had large gardens. Dad was a keen gardener so we were completely self-sufficient for fruit and vegetables. Some potatoes, probably 鈥榚arlies鈥� were grown in the garden while the main crop was grown in the glebe and stored in the basement for use during the winter. Dad had a greenhouse where he grew tomatoes. By the 1940s, the garden had been established for well over 100 years. There were mature apples trees, both eating and cooking. Dad had put in blackcurrant and gooseberry bushes as well as a strawberry bed. Mam made vast quantities of jam and jelly so we didn鈥檛 need to use that part of our ration book. Apples were also stored in the basement. Dad had planted a plum tree in 1933 but in the early war years, in 1940 I think, there was a heavy snowfall so that rabbits were able to come over the stone walls surrounding the garden. They nibbled at the bark of the young plum tree and, although the tree survived, it never bore much fruit; I can remember only one year when it produced a decent amount. Dad was also a keen beekeeper and we had about ten hives in the garden and we had plenty of honey. There was a special sugar ration for beekeepers from which they made a 鈥榮yrup鈥� as feed for the bees in a bad season.

We had a ration of coal which was stored in the basement. Paraffin drums were also in the 鈥榗oal house鈥�. The Manse was a large house with open fires so that it was difficult to heat. A fire in the bedroom was a sign that someone was ill. I do not know when we first started to augment the coal ration with peat but each summer, during the war years and for a number of years after, there was an expedition to the 鈥楳oss鈥� to bag the peats which had already been cut and stacked to dry. Some of the peat was so hard that it was almost like coal.

Electricity was not installed in the Manse until 1953 so during the war years all cooking and lighting depended on paraffin. Lamps had to be cleaned and filled each day. Later we had 鈥楾illey鈥� lamps which not only gave out more light, but the hiss was very friendly so one didn鈥檛 feel lonely. The Manse was a big house, having 21 rooms including the ones in the basement and attic which were used mainly for storage. The main block was built in the 1820s but a wing was added to the rear in the 1920s at which time the kitchen was brought from the basement to the ground floor. The blackout meant that shutters, wooden frames covered with roofing felt, had to be made to cover each window. It became a nightly ritual. The exceptions were those rooms which already were fitted with wooden shutters; these also kept the heat in the rooms so were almost an early form of double glazing!

Light entered the Manse basement via a trench which ran round three-quarters of the house. To prevent accidents there were iron railings at the top. To assist with the war effort a call went out for scrap metal, aluminium pots and pans were collected and even iron park railings disappeared. Dad would have refused to have the basement railings removed for safety reasons.

Because the Manse was virtually in the centre of the parish, it was a sensible location for Dad to co-ordinate the collection of scrap metal. Between the steading and the road there was a flat area probably about 20 feet wide and it here that the scrap metal was gathered and sorted out. Scrap dealers didn鈥檛 want tin cans so these were left. Unfortunately, the tins had not been washed out properly and small pieces of meat were left. This attracted rats! For years afterwards there was a plague of rats in the steading 鈥� as a small boy they appeared to be a yard long! A number of years ago the manse was sold and later the church itself closed. During the summer of 2004 the steading was being converted into holiday accommodation.

In celebration of VE Day Bracoden School which I attended at the time was given two days holiday. One of the days was a sports day 鈥� and I remember I was a bit peeved at being 鈥榙one out of鈥� a day鈥檚 holiday!

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