大象传媒

Mrs Norman's story is submitted by The British Schools Museum, Hitchin, with her permission.

When I was fourteen years old, the age at which most pupils left school in those days, my father wanted me to continue at Hitchin Road Senior School. I think he did not want to admit I was not his little schoolgirl any more! I did stay on for another term, but all my friends started work and I did not seem to be learning anything extra, so I left.

My father was determined that I should not go out to work. I was to stay at home, to clean the house, to help my father at Wolverton Market on Fridays, and my mother in Luton Market on Saturdays. I hated letting my friends see me serving at the drapery stall, and often hid behind the counter if I saw one of my school-friends coming.

Then I met a friend who had just volunteered to join the Women's Land Army. She persuaded me this was a way out, a way to be independent - and I might have to register for war work anyway later on. So I volunteered. I had to report to Dr. Dunlop, for a medical before being accepted. This lady was very brusque, and her first words were "Are you prepared to work every hour God sends?" Though I had not thought about that seriously before, I must have replied "Yes".

I was fitted for a uniform. Two pairs of corduroy trousers for going out, three pairs of khaki dungarees for working on the farm, several pairs of long khaki socks, two pairs of brown walking out shoes, black ankle boots which used to rub my ankles sore, and a heavy overcoat which we tried to keep for evening outings. We were also issued with a beige velour hat with WLA written on a green band at the front, and two green woollen jumpers.

When I was accepted, I had to report to Whipsnade Hostel. This meant I had to catch a bus to Dunstable and the occasional bus to Whipsnade, if not walk from Dunstable. The hostel was a wooden hut on the edge of the Zoo, where you heard the wolves howling through the night. I think there were twenty girls in bunk beds. I was in the first cubicle with a girl from Yorkshire, named Harriet. A number of the girls lived up North. I was lucky to be about fourteen miles from home, and made friends with two other Luton girls, Nora and Barbara.

I was given the task to wake the girls in the morning. We had to go over to the house for breakfast and be ready for the transport by 7.30am, when a large Army lorry would take us to various jobs such as weeding, milking, potato lifting, hedging, haymaking, and threshing - limitless jobs.

My first job was in Whipsnade Zoo cutting kale and swedes for feeding to the animals. This was winter, one of the coldest and with ice frozen on the vegetables; it was jolly hard work. We were supervised by a forelady, but she was so lazy, I saw little of her. Most times, she just covered herself up and went to sleep.

At lunch time, Nora and I would walk around the zoo. We worked near some wild horses - a Russian breed, I think - which would gallop around in a huge paddock. We would visit the aviaries, where the parrots were kept in a large hutment warm for the winter.

We always returned to the hostel very tired, and seem to have early nights as there was nothing much to do. During the first evening, I heard the girls talking in the hut about going on strike over the forelady, making arrangements for the next day - only my second day in the WLA. Someone said "God help that new girl if she lets us down", and I realised this was me they were talking about!

The next day, we left without breakfast and walked to Dunstable town centre, over the downs, to catch a bus to Bedford. We walked in silence, feeling very hungry. When we finally reached Bedford WLA Building, we couldn't all get inside, so the staff asked us to walk to the War Ag building to air our grievances. Of all the surprises, the chairperson picked on me to state our problems. Little did they know I was a new recruit and hardly knew this lady. I cannot remember if my contribution proved helpful or not!

If we had a weekend off work, I used to catch the bus home to Luton, though my parents were ashamed of me in those heavy army boots. On the Sunday, we had to trek back, and walk with our suitcases about two miles over Dunstable Downs. If some of the girls were at the hostel, they might cycle to meet us and we would amble back.

Whipsnade was very cold, perched high and well above sea level and we often slept with seven blankets to get warm as there was no heating inside the hut.

After going on strike, we were split up, some girls going to Toddington and Leighton Buzzard. Nora and I went to Mr. Swears who was the manager of Dagnall War Ag Farm. Six of us lived in a cottage, situated on a steep hill between Studham and Dagnall. We had no convenience like a bathroom - we were given a chamber pot! No telephone either, so we had no outside contact. This was strange to me, as I had always lived in a business family house with a bathroom and telephone. Even so we were all very happy at Dagnall.

On several occasions we were invited to dances by the Americans at Chicksands, near Shefford. I only went once, but the spread they arranged on buffet tables for these dances was too good to be true. Of course they were not on rations like us and most of the dishes we had not seen before. At around midnight, they brought us back, but the night I went, the driver of the lorry was so drunk. As we approached Luton, the truck broke down. His co-driver told us they could not move the vehicle, and if people lived in Luton, they should make their own way home. Three of us lived in Luton, but the others dare not risk taking the girls to their parents' houses, so I volunteered.

So at 3am in the morning, I was knocking on the door at 33 Clarendon Road to wake my parents. My father stuck his head out of the window to see who was there. "It's me, let me in" I replied. When he opened the door, he could not believe seeing approximately 20 girls trooping through the door!

Some slept in the lounge, some in the dining room; just anywhere we had room, until we could return to the farm in the morning. My father was working for Glaxo laboratories in Greenford at that time, and had to leave at 6.30am in order to catch the train for work. Many times afterwards, he would tell the tale of stepping over so many bodies on his way out of the door.

At Dagnall, we reared pedigree bulls, Aberdeen Angus. My job was to clean out the pens inside this huge barn and then exercise these very lively bull calves. Nora never like catching these boisterous animals and usually left it to me to halter them for exercise. They certainly were a handful. I caught a very quiet calf for her, and she trotted along the Studham Road. I was to follow her, but my calf was so boisterous that I could hardly keep him under control, so I was well behind her. Imagine, when she turned round, her bull pulled her all the way back to us. I had visions she would be pulled over, or just let go. Poor Nora, her eyes were shining so brightly as she flew past. She recalls that her feet often never touched the ground. We laughed about her flying through the air at great speed!

I also had to clean out the stud bull, a huge animal. One day I felt so sorry for him that I put him on a halter to walk him round the cowshed. Just as I started, he became very excited, and roared and snorted. It took all my seven stone to control him and return him from his only walk with me. I must have been mad, when I think of the strength of this powerful Aberdeen Angus.

We became very attached to some of the animals and gave them names - I called one Glen Miller. We were quite upset when we found out afterwards that the bull calves were being sent to Spain bullfighting.
This being a War Agriculture farm, we had surplus staff brought in. Some were conscientious objectors - people who refused to register for the armed forces. Some were Italians who were often very lazy; and a few Germans. Every morning, a young Lithuanian Jew named Rudi came in with the transport. Rudi lived in Toddington and was as strong as a horse though he was only 5ft. tall. We all loved him working with us.

We went out in gangs to pick up potatoes as the tractor dug them out in rows in front of us. Oh, the backache as we tried to keep up! Another back-aching job was pulling out charlock from the main crop. Being a yellow weed, it was easy to spot if you had missed one in your row. On another day, we would layer the hedges, armed with a sickle, scythe and heavy gloves. Nora was accident prone. As we were cutting the hedge, the men lit the fire to burn the surplus waste. Suddenly the wind changed direction, and Nora lost her eyelashes, being in the wrong place.

Another day we were driven to Woburn Abbey mill, where we had to dress the corn. This was working with a small table-sized machine sifting the corn covered in pink powder to prevent any insects or mice eating the seed when it was ploughed into the ground. It was a dirty, dusty job and it used to make you sneeze as it was like pink sulphur. You were glad to get into the fresh air and watch the grazing deer in the paddocks whilst waiting for the lift back to the hostel.

We lived next to the Bagshawes, who were big business people in Dunstable. Mrs. Bagshawe became our carer and we were often entertained at their big house. She had two sons who would often call in to play cards. I also went to Dagnall chapel on Sundays and met some very nice people, the Cutler family. Nora and I were often invited back to supper after the evening service, which we did appreciate.

Eventually, Nora and I became part of A. T. Oliver's threshing team, with Alec in charge. It was the fastest threshing team in Bedfordshire! Nora and I loved band-cutting. where we stood over the drum cutting the sheaves that had been pitch-forked to us from the stack We had to cut the string around the sheaf and distribute it evenly into the open drum. It could have been quite a dangerous situation if one had fainted with the cold. This came out with straw baled and the chaff dropped into sacks. The sacks of corn were very heavy, weighing well over two hundredweight. but we had some conscientious objectors working with us and the men had to lift the corn sacks when filled. After a few hours, our feet would become trapped in the loose straw and we could hardly move them. One day, Nora fell backward from the machine with her feet firmly stuck and Rudi volunteered to hold her by asking her to grip his hands, but she could not bring herself to trust him and we had to turn off the moving belt and free her with a ladder.

We never volunteered for the chaff cutting area. Firstly, it was a very dirty job and you really choked, but we sometimes had to take our turn. We loved pitch-forking the sheaves and placing them on the elevator.
When we came to the base of the stack, it was often a tricky situation as one had to watch out for rats and mice. We always went threshing with our trousers or dungarees ticked in our socks or tied with string.
One day Nora let out such a scream, "I've a mouse up my trousers! Get it out!" The men fell about helpless and told her to trap it quickly before it went further. This is what she did, and the mouse fell to the ground and the men killed it. For sometime afterwards, Nora was a nervous wreck!

We harvested linseed for jam making pips as well as cereal crops. If we had been threshing barley, the ears stuck on your clothes and made you itch. Whilst on harvesting, we usually had our sandwiches in a mess hut. The men would light a fire on the ground outside and we would put our sandwiches on a twig to toast them.

Eventually, Nora and I decided to take a tractor course and had to go to Ravenstone for five weeks. Every week we had an exam, and I did well most weeks and enjoyed being in this nice Manor house with different girls from all the hostels in Bedfordshire.

On the fifth week, I was covered in spots and the Warden took me to the doctor in Bedford. When I reached the surgery, the room had been isolated of children and I was told I had German measles. I was driven back to the hostel and told to go and sit in the garden whilst someone had to pack my clothes. I felt how a leper must feel. I had to have my dinner passed out of a window to me, and could not mix with the other girls. After lunch I was driven home to Luton in a private car. I was told to report to my own doctor, and when Dr. Dunlop saw me she said "Have you been studying for any examinations?" I admitted I had. She confirmed it was a nervous rash again which always occurs to me during exams. The outcome was the course was cancelled; the cows and the cowsheds at the Manor were all sprayed with disinfectant. The girls were given the week off in case they had been infected. And we never had to pass the final exams. Needless to say, the girls were delighted to have a holiday.

However, I went back to Dagnall War Ag Farm and drove tractors - apparently I had qualified enough during the five weeks.
My first job with the tractor was to pull another tractor out of the mud. Each morning I would take a loaded trailer out with swedes, turnips and kale for the animals grazing in the fields. I would drive the tractor and Nora would usually be on top of the trailer throwing out the vegetables. When the trailer was empty she often stood behind me, but one day she was standing on the coupling between the tractor and trailer as I turned through the gate. Fortunately, she had the sense to pull her foot out of the squashed shoe just in time - I'm sure Nora had nine lives!

As I was 17 years old, in 1942, I was paid eighteen shillings and was entitled to six working days holiday a year and usual bank holidays. Land girls were contracted to work 48 hours in the winter and 50 in the summer. Nora and I worked well as a team and were like sisters always together. As we were being transported to the various farms we always sang songs like "Silver Wings in the Moonlight", "Run, Rabbit, Run" and so on.

By now, the war was nearly over and I left after two and half years' service, but Nora stayed on for seven years, and had a card of recognition from the queen for her service. I do not regret my memories of Vera from Letchworth, Rita and Harriet from Yorkshire, Lily from London, and Jean and Joan who later married American soldiers. We all worked together really well. I still ring Nora from time to time, but I have often wondered where the others all live now.

All the girls I worked with worked extremely hard in all weathers and I like to think we helped with the War effort.

Mrs. Proctor, an 81 year old, compiles a written pamphlet twice a year which tells snippets of news to which we contribute. She has done a splendid service and has worked hard for our cause, but this year (2005) she has arranged the last reunion in Birmingham and is retiring. She eventually achieved recognition that determined that WLA members could march past the Cenotaph. In 2001 I was in the parade at the Cenotaph as a WLA member.

I did attend the first reunion in London and another later on in Birmingham. We had our maiden name pinned on our lapel, and sat in the counties in which we served, but sadly I never met any of my colleagues.

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