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The Wartime Memories of Connie West (nee Brown)

This story will be submitted to the People’s War Site by Jan Barrett (volunteer) on behalf of Connie West and will be added to the site with her permission. Connie fully understands the site’s terms and conditions.

Ashley Farm and memories of Glen Miller

When the War started I was nearly 15 and living in Portsmouth. I was soon evacuated to Winchester High School — but nothing was happening — Xmas came and went and still no bombs — so in January they let us go home for a weekend. That weekend a bomb dropped on Highbury, near Portsmouth, and a school-friend of mine, Sheila, was killed in the blast as she ran to the shelters.

I eventually left school at 17, halfway through matriculation. I wanted to join the WAAFS or the Navy but I was too young, so I went to the Land Army Office in Hampshire Terrace in Portsmouth. Within 2 weeks I was sent to work as a Milkman for Farmer Bailey at Ashley Farm,New Milton in the New Forest.

I was living in a bungalow on the other side of the meadow where the horses were kept. Each morning I had to get up at about 4.30 a.m. catch the horses and bring them in. Of course they didn’t want to be caught and would kick me if they could. There were six of us girls and we had to brush them, clean their hooves, give them some oats and get the milk-carts out.

I would harness my horse, collar first, then the bridle, and slowly back him into the shafts. Then we would go to the dairy, back the cart up to the door and load up the crates. By this time it would be about 5.30 a.m. and luckily the horse knew his way around the roads! We had to stop at every house and at the end of the week we collected the money and ration coupons. Everyone was allowed 3 pints of milk per week. When the float was empty the horse would gallop back to the dairy (he knew he would get some breakfast and a rest). We would have a sandwich and some milk for breakfast ourselves (I remember that on really cold mornings it was lovely in the boiler room) and then it was off on the second round.

I remember my horse, Bob, in particular. He was very sturdy and a lot bigger than me; he used to push me up into a corner when I was brushing him. He was also very lazy and didn’t like work.

When the rounds were finished there was bottle cleaning and sterilising of the churns to be done. They were very heavy to handle but sometimes the foreman would help with the lifting. After being sterilised with the pressure cleaner, the milk had to go through a cooler and then to the bottling machine. There were quarter pint, half pint and pint bottles. Finally the cardboard stoppers (which came down in a long tube) were put on and then the milk had to be stored in the fridge until the next morning, when we began all over again. Sometimes the man from the Ministry of Agriculture would come to test the milk for TB and to make sure that the churns were being properly sterilised.

We had two half days off each week — but often we had to take our horse to the local blacksmith in Sway to have new shoes put on, or work on other farms on our days off. Farmer Bailey also owned Pennington Farm, and sometimes we had to help out with the milking there, or do some spud-bashing. We didn’t get any extra pay for this! Our wages were £2.50 a fortnight and we had to pay for our digs from that. Woodbines came in a green packet and cost one shilling for five.

My little sister, Liz, came and stayed for a fortnight once, with a lady who owned goats. My friend Lucy used to take her out on a little float which carried some churns and a ladle for the milk.

When there was an official occasion, like the march-past at Southampton Guildhall, we had to wear the full Land Army Uniform. But for working, we wore brown overalls and green jumpers and heavy shoes with metal reinforcing back and front.

In wartime you met all sorts of people. There was a Land Army Club where we could meet — one of the girls had been a ballet dancer at Covent Garden, two of the others were local from Brockenhurst and Lyndhurst.

Towards the end of the War the Canadian 10th Hussars Tank Regiment was posted at Sway, and the 5th Air Defence Wing (Americans) were stationed near Hinton Admiral. We girls would draw lots to take the milk on that round!

On our afternoons off, we sometimes used to take a train to Bournemouth. The trains were usually fall of Yanks and there was a jolly atmosphere. Once I saw Glen Miller play at a charity dance in the Bournemouth Guildhall.

One evening we all went to a dance at the New Milton Village Hall. A truck pulled up outside full of black American soldiers. They asked very politely if they could come in and in no time they were taking over the band and playing jazz — we were having a lovely time with them and the English and Canadian soldiers. But then a truckload of white American soldiers turned up and they began fighting with the blacks. The British and Canadians joined in on the side of the black soldiers. We girls hid under the stage, but we weren’t really very frightened. Someone called the SP, the American military police, and they came in with their white garters and white helmets, waving their truncheons. But they only used them on the black soldiers and they were rounded up and had to leave.

Really I don’t remember feeling frightened at all during the War. Poor Mum and Dad would be waving me off, firstly to Winchester High School and then later to the New Forest; they would be in tears — but I just felt excited about the whole thing.

Connie West
August 2005.

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