大象传媒

By Audrey Gill

鈥淲hat鈥� says the city dweller, 鈥淒o you find to do all day on the farm. There can鈥檛 be much to do in winter with no hay-making or corn to harvest鈥�. This idea is very far from the truth, as I found out for myself. To be transported in a day from a large city to a tiny village on the edge of the moor was my experience. And to be billeted with country people who knew nothing of city life; but were steeped in everything to do with the countryside from their birth was an education in itself. Along with other volunteers I found this sudden change of environment wonderfully exciting.

The Land Girls were mainly recruited from the towns and cities of the British Isles and most of them didn鈥檛 know what they were letting themselves in for. Perhaps she had a vision of herself teaching a gentle little calf to suck her little finger in a bucket of milk. Some time later she would find out how strong a new born calf can be and know the struggle to keep it from spilling the milk and the patience required to teach it to drink. Milking was one of the most important jobs that the Land Girls had undertaken, partly because it is one at which she excelled. This meant getting up very early and in the darkness for half the year and perhaps finding her way down a muddy lane with just a torch to guide her. One thing was certain; she would be greeted in the byre with warmth and the sweet smell of the cow鈥檚 breath. Learning to milk was a painstaking process; an old hand could show you how to sit on the low 3 legged stool and the exact way to balance the bucket between the knees. The learner can study how to push the head well into the flank of the cow, how to keep the left leg against the cow鈥檚 leg and how one arm is always ready to ward off a kick. The position of the fingers and wrist can be explained but the actual power of being able to draw milk has to come by itself, in its own good time. For days the milk refuses to flow and you sit there terrified that the cow will either kick you over or put its foot in the bucket. Then one day the fingers will instinctively find the rhythm and do what is expected of them. The whole body takes a more relaxed and comfortable position the milk flows with a steady thrum, thrum into the bucket, foaming with a thick bubbly froth, suddenly you realise you can milk.

I was so proud the day I was allowed to drive the hay-turner, this machine turned the swath of the hay completely over to let the sun dry the underside. Somehow the horse had managed to get the rein caught under its tail and the more I tried to get it free by pulling, the faster it went. Until we were like a chariot galloping down the hill out of control. Fortunately for me someone noticed and ran to bring the horse to a standstill. How thankful I was to feel my feet firmly on the ground again.

The nation which never went short of a loaf of bread throughout the war, owe much to the girls who worked in the fields, they ploughed and sowed, reaped, threshed and thatched, endured working in the heat of the day and the bitter cold winds of winter. This is an extract from the Land Girl鈥檚 Christmas card; 鈥楤e gentle when you touch bread, let it not lie uncared for, unwanted. Too often bread is taken for granted. There is such beauty in bread, beauty of sun and soil, beauty of patient toil, wind and rain have caressed it, Christ often blessed it. Be gentle when you touch bread鈥�.

An essential condition for a Land Girl was that she must be mobile and able to go without protest wherever she was sent, sometimes far away from home, perhaps for the first time in her life. She would be sent where the need was greatest, many girls from the North were sent to the large corn growing areas in the South of England. At one time threshing became an urgent problem, the country had to be fed and the German U-Boats were doing their worst. They arrived in their hundreds at the Southern stations, tumbling out of the trains with their bundles, cheerful, excited, filling the air with their North county accents, surprised at the mildness of the climate and the unfamiliar sight of the Kentish coast-houses.

A few girls were in the forefront of battles taking place in the Southern coastal countries. There were incidents where they were bombed and machine-gunned by diving planes, and so were issued with tin hats. After a raid in Canterbury ten out of eleven Land Girls from a bombed house reported for work the next morning at the usual time, the eleventh apologised for being late but explained that she had to be dug out of the debris. Some airmen were dragged out of their crashed planes by the girls who jut happened to be working in the field at the time.

The Land Army sprang into being on the 1st July 1939 before war was declared. The powers then had the praiseworthy foresight not to be deceived by the promises of Munich. The Honorary Director of the organisation was Lady Denman, she was a most competent and experienced chairman. At the very beginning she gave her home at Balcombe Palace to be used as the General Headquarters. The house itself was used for the various office departments, the out-buildings were transformed into storage places for the familiar green jerseys, brown breeches, overcoats and shirts, even the stables were stacked from floor to ceiling. These head-quarters supplied the needs of 80,000 Land Girls and records were kept of every volunteer of the many thousands passing through. Part of the building housed the editorial staff of the monthly magazine The Land Girl which had a circulation 21,000. Lady Denman was also Chairman of the National Federation of the W.I.s and gave her name to the W.I College in Berkshire.

The Land Girl herself hadn鈥檛 a sensational story to tell, more one of plodding endurance away from the limelight. She seldom had to parade in front of an audience; she usually remained behind the wings.

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