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British Army of the Rhine
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British Army of the Rhine
The BAOR was a peacekeeping force that served in Germany from the end of the Second World War until 1994. Most of this force was stationed in Germany itself and was there to defend Germany against attack from Russia. These forces were kept fully trained and prepared to counter any act of aggression. With all the amazing changes that have happened in Russia, Germany and Central Europe since the war, the BAOR was disbanded in 1994. Prince Charles attended the military ceremony, marking the end of the BAOR. Soldiers from the Queen's Dragoon Guards and the Devonshire and Dorset Regiment raised their caps and chanted, “Three Cheers for the Prince!” as he took the last salute from the troops.
Louisa "Lou" Jones
I am looking for information about my mother who was known then as Louisa Jones (nickname 'Lou') during the was was she was working in the Womans Land Army. She worked on a farm near Akeley Woods, not far from RAF Bicester. Does anyone stationed at there during the war recall any land army girls visiting the base? She may have visited the base, perhaps for whatever reason, I do not know. She did visit a Canadian servicemans' hospital in the area, so it could be that maybe she visited RAF Bicester when they had social gatherings etc. Any information you could tell me would be greatly appreciated.
Evelyn Peace
I am sending this message on behalf of Evelyn Peace No. 81742 enlisted July 1942 and discharged November 1950 she would like to hear from her friends especially Louise Carse may now be McGuire.
Thank you.
B Brandon
I joined the W.L.A. in September 1944, training at Ravensden, Beds., then to Wrest Park Lodge, Silsoe, Beds. There were about 30 girls at the hostel, 6 to a bedroom. We went out daily to various farms at 7.30 a.m. doing a variety of jobs, cleaning out cattle sheds, spreading fertilizer, fruit picking, vegetable picking, haymaking, working late in the summer months, also threshing which was back breaking and dirty work, then having to queue up for a bath when we returned to the hostel, no showers in those days.
I learned to drive while being in the L.A. we had different size vehicles, from a small Hillman van to a large Bedford lorry. I was also in a pruning gang during the winter months, it was very hard work in all weathers, but I enjoyed my 2 years and made some very good friends. I left in June 1946 to get married
Joan Moore
I was Joan Moore when I joined the Womans Land Army in 1940. I worked on a farm at Thirsk in Yorkshire for a short time. Then to a hostel at Dishforth. Thereafter, with six other girls I went to work for Mr Swires at Norton-le-Clay. We lived in a cottage called Bagwash and bagwashing was part of our general farm work duties. After a tractor accident and three months in hosptal I convalesced at Rest Break House, Torquay. I then became a forewoman at the Guisborough hostel and organised the work for 30 girls until the war ended. At Bagwash I rember Lily, Jean. Margaret and Beryl.
I now live in Tasmania (since 1956) and have a large family. I would love to hear from anyone from those days.
Eileen Holmes
Eileen Holmes was stationed with the Land Army in Lincolnshire (Nr Sleaford) from March 1942 to October 1945 and would like to hear from anyone who remembers her.
Kathleen Parfitt
My mother was in the land army stationed at Redworth House, Totnes, South Devon till around 1949 Her name was Kathleen Parfitt. She would love to hear from anyone who was billeted their around that time especially Sally Marriot who she lost touch with some years ago all she can remember is Sally moved back to Matlock in Derbyshire were she married and seems to think she ran a post office.
If you can help me find my mothers friend please email me, I would be so grateful to you as my mother is getting on in years and she would dearly like to know what became of Sally
Pat Kemp
When I got to the age of 18 I told my stepfather I wanted to join the WAAF but he said he didn't want me to so I mentioned joining The Women's Land Army and he agreed to that. I had to write to the Labour Officer to get permission to leave the garage. I had a reply which stated that I couldn't leave the garage because the manager would not release me. Every week I asked for my "cards" In the end they said it was only fair to let me go. I had to go to my doctor to see if I was fit enough. He didn't examine me he just said "Do you want to join up? I told him I did. He signed the paper I needed and off I went.
I enlisted in The Women's Land Army in 1943 just before my eighteenth birthday. The lady who was interviewing told me I couldn't wear my earrings I just glared at her (Typical 18 year old) and she quickly went on to tell me where I would be stationed which was a house at Totteridge which we were told belonged to Bassett's Liquorice Allsorts. When they were giving us our uniforms I told them I would not wear the corduroy breeches because they were baggy and hung down around the knees so they gave me a nice pair of olive green gabardine breeches. I was given a pair of boots like men's so I wouldn't be wearing those either. But I would wear the Wellingtons. The rest of the uniform was nice. We were given a Cream Shirt, Beige Socks, a Green Pullover and Tie, Tan Shoes and a Mid Brown Overcoat and Hat and of course the Boots which I never wore. We had to buy everything else and pay for our keep. The wages were so low that there was very little left. Lady Denham asked Winston Churchill to pay us more money_but he refused. We were called the Cinderellas of the forces.
After a few weeks we were sent from Totteridge to Oaklands Agriculture College at St, Albans Hertfordshire. We were told we would be there for four weeks but it was changed to five weeks because of a proposed visit by the Duchess of Gloucester. We were taught a lot about farming also how to groom a horse. I was given a chicken to hold one day and I could feel it's bones and it made me feel sick and dropped it. Another time I was told to help put some piglets on to a cart by lifting them up by the ear and tail and when I tried it squealed so loud I screamed and dropped that too. On the day of the Duchess visited there was a Ploughing Match. All the men were lined upon their tractors and I had to be the learner on a Caterpillar tractor. The time came for our departure. We climbed onto the lorry. It seemed that we had travelled for so long and getting further and further from London. I looked out the back of the lorry and said "We are in the wilds I don't think I want to stay here". Other girls looked out and moaned too. At last we arrived and when I saw Rowney Priory. I loved it. We were told it was once a Nunnery.
Rowney Priory, nr. Ware, Hertfordshire.
We had Bunk beds but later they were replaced with single iron framed beds. We also had a small wardrobe each. Among the girls with me at Rowney were, Mary Doyle (Mrs Mary Doidge of Buntingford,) Margaret Callaghan (the late Mrs Margaret Aylott of Buntingford , Eileen Parker ( Mrs Eileen Gordge of Oxford, May Robinson ( Mrs May Odegaard of USA), Joan Tiddeman ( Mrs Joan Nichols) of London) Peggy Knott (Mrs Peggy Bull of London.) Sandy Hensher (Mrs Rackstraw of Acton) Elsie Bell (Mrs Elsie Bartlett of High Cross) who was my best friend for 52 years. Sadly she died just before we moved to Buntingford. There were about fifty girls at Rowney Priory.
Pat Kemp (2nd from right on middle row) and friends, outside Rowney Priory.
Every night we were told by the forewoman which farm we were to go to next day. We had to get up early and get on the lorry and the forewoman would drive us and drop us off at various farms. She would also pick us up at the end of the day. In the Summer time we worked until 9 pm or 9.30 pm. Hay Making or Harvesting, so because all the girls were spread around the countryside it took a long time to pick them all up so it was quite late when we all got back to Rowney. It was a rush then to get to the bathrooms to get a bath if you were lucky. We were only alowed 4 Inches of water for a bath like everybody else. Then we would get something to eat and get to bed. At Harvest time we had to stand the sheaves up in groups of six to dry then we would load them on to the cart and then take them off the field where the girls would pass them to the men and they would build a stack. The dirtiest job was Threshing. It was such a dirty job we wore scarves around our heads and across our faces. The dust would get in our eyes and ears and up our noses. When we were on the thresher feeding the wheat into the drum after a while it would draw you towards it so we took it in turns. Although it was very hard work and long hours I liked Haymaking and Harvest time very much but I used to get so mad if I couldn't get a bath right away when we got back "home" I was working with some new girls and we decided to go to a village pub at lunch time but we had to go across a field to get there. In the field were some cattle and the girls asked me if they were bulls. I said they were and to get across the field they would have to climb over the fence and run for their lives. I watched them running like mad then I walked leisurely across and they realised I had lied to them. They were not bulls they were cows. They swore at me but later saw the funny side of it. One of them said "It will give my mum a laugh when I write and tell her about it".One day I was going potato picking and when I got off the lorry I looked to see who was with me and I was shocked to see they were new girls. I felt very sorry for them as it was a very hard job to have on your first day. We had a strip each and we had to pick up all the potatoes before the digger came around again. After I had picked up all of mine I looked up to see the girls holding their backs in agony and I thought I would have to help them or their strips wouldn't be finished by the time the digger came around again and the farmer would be no doubt be angry. For the rest of the day I picked up the potatoes on my strip and then went and helped them to finish theirs. I was getting ready to go back to Rowney when the farmer came to me and said "I have been watching you and you have been working very hard" I grinned at him thinking to myself he must have been hiding somewhere because I hadn't seen him. He gave me some money which was very nice of him. He then asked me if I would work for him all the time. I said "Doing what" He said" Milking "And I laughed and told him I didn't want to milk cows and I didn't know how to. He said I will teach you, just give it a try. I said I would as I knew I could leave if I didn't like it. I got on alright, I got to like the lovely Friesian cows.
There was an Italian prisoner of war working at the farm. I cycled to and from the farm, it wasn't very far. It was winter so very dark in the evenings so the farmer told the Italian to cycle back to Rowney with me every night. The trouble was the Italian resented me working at the farm. He moaned at me saying I should not be working there as the job was for men not for women. This continued day after day and one day I yelled at him to stop it. The farmer appeared and said "That's right girl stand up for your self. The Italian was quiet for a while but we were cleaning out the cowshed one day when he started being nasty to me again. He went on and on and he was working just behind me and I got so angry I swung around and punched him in the mouth which began to bleed. He lifted his shovel to hit me, I was scared but I glared at him and said "You dare" He threw his shovel down and walked out. I thought I would have to cycle back to Rowney on my own that night but as I got to the gate the Italian shouted to me to wait for him. Then I began to think he might hit me or kill me in one of the dark lanes. It was pouring with rain so I rode as fast as I could. By the time we arrived we were soaked. I was "home" but he had to cycle back to the farm.
I had three small calves to look after and I was weaning them by getting a bucket of milk and putting my hand in it and then the calf would learn to drink by sucking my finger. I went on leave for two weeks and when I returned to the farm the farmer asked me if I was going to see to my calves. When I got to the shed I saw three big cows. I went back to them and with a look of disdain I said "Where are they then? The farmer was laughing and said to the Italian "I told you she would know they weren't her calves. He told me where they really were I just looked at the Italian with disgust.
At another farm I worked with Mary Doyle. The farmer was very good to us. At harvest time at 5 pm he would bring us tea and sandwiches and every week he would give us a tip. We were there a long time because he had more than one farm and we worked on all of them. I had to go ploughing with one of the men and the plough was to be drawn by a horse. It was a young horse which had not done any work before. I was told I would have to hold him back or he would tear away. It was very hard trying to hold him back as the horse was very strong. He was pulling so hard and his eyes were wild and bulging he was foaming at the mouth. I was so exhausted and relieved when the day was over. My hands were sore and my legs ached so much. Mary became a Ganger which meant if there were 4 girls or more going to Work at a farm she would have to go and work with them and be in charge.
We were hoeing on a farm there were German prisoners of war were hoeing on the other side of the field. It began raining and when it started pouring down hard we rain into the woods at the top of the field and so did the Germans but they ran to where we were. The girls wanted me to say the German words I knew which was only "Ich lebadich mien lielbing" Which someone had told me it me it meant "Kiss me my darling" I said no but they kept on to me so I said it and a German said "Yes please" He then took a book from his pocket and said "Come and sit here with me and I will teach you German" but I wouldn't. I was not going to make friends with any Germans. We should not have spoken to them at all as we had been told not to fraternizse. A long time after we could speak to them as we were working with them. We were threshing one day and there was a German and an Italian. I went to lift a bale of straw but the German stopped me and said "No don't lift anything. We will do it" I was pleased about that as the bales were very heavy.
There were a lot of Americans stationed in the area and we were often invited to the dances at their camps. The dances were held in a hanger and they would put some chalky stuff on the floor and so as we danced it flew all over the place. They would send a lorry for us and would bring us back. When it was time to leave the camp the lorry was stopped at the gate and the military guards would shine their torches and ask if there were any GI's on board and we everybody chorused "No" and when we were out of the gates the GI's would come out from under the seats. There was so much food at the camp and when the women came in form the village to take some of it the GI's would help them pack the food in their carrier bags.
There were some GI's in Hertford and we invited them to Rowney. On the day of the dance they telephoned to ask if someone could go to Hertford and show them the way to Rowney. The girls asked me to go but I said I would not go on my own so Joan Tiddiman said she would come with me. Joan sat with the driver in the Command Car and I sat with the officer in the back and there was a lorry full of GI's following. As we got to Ware crossing we were stopped by a Dewdrop (U.S Military Police) and he told the Officer that they were not allowed to have civilians in a Command Car. The officer told him we were not civilians but he didn't believe him so the officer told him he could ride along with us. The Dewdrop after much bickering let us go. A few weeks later the same Dewdrop came into Ware Drill Hall where the dances were held every Saturday night and asked me for a date. I went out with him for a while and he asked me to write a letter to his mother. I received a reply from her and she said her daughter would like to me to write to her too. That was too close for me. I didn't want to go out with him anymore. I went out with several Americans but I didn't want to get serious with anyone. About eight of us met some Americans and we went out with them most nights. We used to go to a pub named The Green Man at Dane End and we had many good times with them and they always got us back to Rowney by 10.30. They were waiting to go abroad but they didn't know when or where so when they didn't arrive on time one night we thought they had gone and we were very quiet and sad. We got our bikes out to go to the pub and just as we started off we heard the lorry, they had arrived. A few weeks later however they didn't arrive at all. That night there we were very sad and there were tears .We felt so sorry for them and scared fort them. It was D day. The American Military Police were called Dewdrops because their helmets were white.
When the war ended we all put on our uniforms and decided to go to London and celebrate with everybody else but we had to wait for permission. We went and stayed all night singing and dancing. It was such a relief it was great. We went back to Rowney and next day went to work as usual but with a more relaxed feeling.
I had a telephone call from head office asking me to go on a Forewoman's Course. I told them I didn't want to be a Forewoman. The woman talked me into it by telling me I would be paid more money and I would work in the mornings but there were lectures in the afternoon. There were six of us there and we had a great time. I must say though, at the lectures I used to nod off while being told about the rotation of crops and so forth. I went from there to Reed nr Royston. I had to tell the girls which farms they were going to and do the Time Sheets every week and keep everything in check. An elderly man was the lorry driver. I met a few nice chaps there and had some nice times but I didn't want anyone too serious. I had a telephone from Head Office asking me if I would go to a bigger house at Ayot St. Lawrence. I declined and I told them I wanted to go back to Rowney. They said "If you go back there you will be an ordinary land girl again" I told them I didn't care about that and I didn't want to be a Forewoman in the first place. To my delight they told me I could go back to Rowney. It was great to be back.
My eldest sister was married to an American and she wrote to me to tell me they would be home on leave and they had arranged for me to go back with them to the American Zone in Germany for a month but my leave was only for two weeks. I didn't think they would give me two weeks extra but then I was asked to be Forewoman at Rowney. I didn't want to but I said I would if I could have a month's leave. They said yes I could.
My sister, her husband, their little girl and I went across the channel on a cargo boat. They also had the car so we drove through France to Germany. It was very eerie as it was very quiet and dark as we drove all night and I was a bit scared in case we saw any ghosts of soldiers who had been killed in the fields we were passing in the countryside. The Americans had a club there and one day two of the German girls who worked at the club said they were going to Stuttgart and would I like to go with them. I was devastated by what I saw. It had been crushed to the ground. What I saw next shocked me. I saw two soldiers with only stubs left of their legs and they were on pieces of wood and were sort of rowing themselves along. I know our men suffered too but this was the first time I had seen anybody so damaged.
It was time for me to return to England and to Rowney Priory. As we got into the car to go to the station my sister told me all the soldiers in the American club would be on the steps there to wave me Goodbye. I laughed but she said "You wait and see." As we got near the club she told me to stand up with my head through the Sunroof so I did and there they were waving and shouting "Have a good journey Pat and give our love to little old London" My sister told me to get off the train at Paris and go to the bank in the station to get my money changed and then go to another station and get on another train. I got on the train and there were two American girls in the compartment also an English Officer in Tropical uniform. We were chatting and he told me he was going to Turkey. I told him my mother was Turkish. (My father had met my mother in Turkey in the first world war.) When we arrived in Paris he said "Come with me and he took me to the bank in the station and he spoke to them in French and then told me that they didn't change money there. He told me to wait there with the luggage (his and mine) and he would go and fetch his car. When he returned he took me to the other station and I waited in his car while he changed my money. When he came back he said "I have changed your money and booked you a seat on the train so let us go and have some breakfast" We sat outside the cafe and I ate the roll but I didn't know what the thing on the table that looked like one cup on top of another and I just kept on looking at it and feeling embarrassed. He realised I didn't know what to do so he did it for me. I felt so silly but I had never seen anything like it before. After a while he said it was time to go to the station. When we got there we stood on the station platform and I thanked him for all he had done for me and I didn't know what I would have done without him. He put his arms around me and kissed me. We said goodbye and I didn't know his name and nor he mine. I have never forgotten him. He was a gentleman.
I returned to Rowney and as I was to be a forewoman again I had to learn how to drive the lorry. I would have to take the girls to and from work every day. The time came when I thought I had better leave and get a job and somewhere to live as the houses would be closing and I didn't want to go home. Anything would do for a start. I worked in the Feathers Inn for a while. One of the girls boyfriend's was the son of the owner and told me to go there so that I would have somewhere to live too until something else came along. Later on I got a job as a Dental Nurse. I didn't know anything about Dentistry but the Dentist said he would teach me. After a while I was quite pleased when he told me I had learned everything in three months what it took girls two years to learn at the hospital. If I had to do in for an exam though I would never pass as I get too nervous. Once a week we had to go to a Farm where there were "First Offenders" and each time we arrived there they would whistle at me. I always had to wear my "Nurses Uniform" The headmaster would shout at them to help carry the implements that were needed and they scared me sometimes when they would rush to help me.
I had been in the Women's Land Army for 6 years. Although it was very hard work we had lots of laughs and I still have my arm bands also release certificate and the personal message from the Queen signed Elizabeth R. I also still have my Ration Book and Identity Card.
There are families living at Rowney now and I'm sure they must love it there as much as we did.
June Olive Gorey
My Mother Jone Gory, joined the Land Army after finishing the factory work she did during the war making plane parts, she was based at a place called Totteridge and she remembers a farmer called Mr Shuttleworth the girls she worked with where Doreen, Joan, Lily, Barbara, Kitty and Joyce . She told how they has to do all the farm duties like picking the crops and ploughing the fields, she is now 82 and still full of life, sadly she loss her husband, my Dad in 2006 which came has a shock. I hope the people might remember her. She left late 1949/1950 due to injury to her ankle.
Grace Murphy
I read the name Kathleen Hull, among the list of those that served in the WLA. I would much like to make contact with her if she served at Moretonhampstead in 1947 when I was there. If she did then I would love to hear from her.
Patricia Edgar
I would like to make contact with the other girls, I met during my 22 months service, with the Womens Land Army Our base was Westcombe Hostel Dyke Road Brighton Sussex. I stayed there roughly two years, till the end of the war. I do remember Doris Baker from London, Edna Muggridge and Jean Ellis It would be lovely to meet up and chat about old times.
Joan Smith
I served in the Women's Land Army from 1942 to 1945 and despite searching the Internet have been unable to find an active group of ex Land Girls for my area of service in Hertfordshire.
At almost 82 years old and partially sighted now I suppose we are a dwindling number. A fellow tiller of the soil whom I met during those years at our first posting, also 82 now, became my best friend, and is to this day.
We braved rats in potato clamps, climbed ladders to pick fruit, rescued birds trapped in fruit nets (much to our foreman's annoyance), picked and dug vegetables with frozen hands and feet and sowed, thinned and hoed miles of root crops. Those were just a few of our duties, but for myself it was the best job I ever had and I have been a country girl at heart ever since
. We Land Girls had no 35 hour week, summer hours were 6am till dusk and in winter we were allowed to begin an hour later at 7am. I remember being nervous cycling to work across a common in the dark. My starting basic salary was two pounds five shillings a week, and even back then that was not a great sum.
Over the years I have unfortunately lost track of my badge, armband with the red felt triangles which were issued for each six months of service and my Service Certificate. My number however needs no physical proof. That, like my late husband's army number is I think burned into my brain.
Like Mrs.K.O'Dell of Suffolk I do remember such glorious summers, and yes, the lovely tan gained as a result of shortened dungarees. Our Area lady did not approve.
Writing this has evoked so many memories, I almost feel 19 years old again
Agnes Connie
Miss Agnes Connie, my Grandmother's Cousin was in the Womens Land Army, later in life she was a Cub Scout Commissioner, she passed away recently at the age of 81.
Gladys Florence "Laddie" Citron
My Mother was a member of this very important task force and I would like to contact anyone who might have known her during this time.
Her name was Gladys Florence Citron, known as 'Laddie'. She also had a particular friend, also in the Land Army, called 'Laddie' too. My Mother was a Londoner, had a sister called Beatrice Emily Citron. I do not think her sister was in this organisation. During her time in the Land Army she was based at Swift's, a very large farm in Much Hadham in Herts. Any information would be greatly appreciated.
Joyce Watts
I lied about my age when I signed up to join the land army at the age of 15.
I did my training in Whimple, Devon. I was then drafted to a farm at Lapford.
I had to get up at 4.30 in the morning to milk the cows. In the winter my hands got chapped and very painful when I milked the cows. It was all so primitive to me on the farm. I came from London and our house had all the modern convieniances. On this farm I had a candle for a light in my bedroom, the loo was outside and water was obtained from a pump. Despite all this, I must say, I had plenty to eat and the farmers wife was a good cook.
One day the superviser came to visit and I guess she realised how young I was because she arranged for me to go to a hostel near Plymouth. I was sorry to leave in one way as I loved to work with the horses. I could write a lots more about other good things on the farm. At the hostel I made friends with lots of girls. One girl, Olga, became a very good friend. We remainded friends and communicated untill her death in 1999.
The Land army days were some of the best years of my life. Olga and I went back and stayed on a farm that we had worked on.
That farmer and his wife have since passed away. Maybe the reason I have out lived them is because I was so young when I was working there.
I guess time is marching on but we still have our memories of the good times that we had.
Margaret Chadwick
During 1949/1950, my Mum, Margaret Chadwick, worked with the WLA in Surrey. On her National Registration card ( OTEH/137 3 - class code B312) she stayed on Brooklands Road, Weybridge, and at a SAEC Hostel, Coombe End, Woking.
She really enjoyed her days with the WLA, and talked of them fondly. It was our wish to take her on a trip to Surrey so that she could see some of the 'old' places. Sadly, it's too late now. However, I would like to know if it is possible to seek out a couple of her good friends from those days ( Olive & Eve - don't have their surnames), or more information relating to 49/50
Norma Winnifred Ludlow
I stumbled across this website whilst researching my family tree and although have yet to find my grandmother reading the stories have made me feel I know just a little bit more. My grandmother was called Norma Winnifred Ludlow and was born in 1927. I have heard tales that she was in the Land Amy and this is how she met my Grandfather who was in the RAF. Sadly she passed away and I never got to ask her about it all. If anyone out there knew her I would be so grateful to hear from you. She originally came from Frome in Somerset and settled in Norfolk/Suffolk.
Norrie Hunphreys
My mother the late Norrie Harrington nee Hunphreys was in the Land Army based at Bulwark Chepstow. To date I have not been able to glean any information in respect of this. Norrie was from Ebbw Vale, and was single when in the Land Army. I am trying to build up a picture of my parents family history and would appreciate any assistance.
Margaret Blower
My sister in law Margaret Mogford nee Blower served in the land army during ww2. She likes talking of her bit she did as a land army girl.
Mary Kathleen Courtney
My Mother, Mary Kathleen Courtney married after war, and became Mary Casey she lived in Weedon and Daventry and Kettering as a Land Girl. I am trying to get in touch with anybody who can: Give me contact addresses, web sites, email addresses in order to find out where my mother was and details of her enlistment or tell me about my mother
Eileen Agnes Gasson
We are trying to track down a lady named Eileen Agnes Gasson who was a member of the Women's Land Army in Tonbridge, Kent in 1945. The reason for this search is that this lady would be the biological mother of my father who was given up for adoption at only six weeks old. My father is going to be 60 this year and any information you may have will be greatly appreciated.
Florence "Pat" Price
My mum Florence (but called Pat) Price was in the Land Army. She was at a Chivers Farm. Ely, Cambridgeshire. She is now 82 and would love to make contact with friends Hilder Pybus (from Yorkshire). Also others she is unsure of their surnames Molly and Kattline. I realise this is a great long shot but l promised to do what I could. Many thanks
Joan Verrall
My name is Joan Hollins (nee Verrall) I served in the Land Army in the Kent villages of Headcorn and Smarden. I would like to hear from anyone who served in either of these villages betwween 1942 until 1945
Lilian O'Hara
My mother-in-law, Lilian O'Hara, died last year, and amongst her posessions were two badges - one which I think is a Land Army hat badge and the other looks like the Olympic rings. We also found a photo of her with the Olympics ring badge fastening her shirt at the collar. Please can anyone tell me if the Olympics badge is something to do with the Land Army? We would love to know.
Betty "Tony" Price
Worked on the fields at Dunston, Spud picking
Iris Matthews
My mother served as a land army girl she died 4 years ago but would love a badge to remember her by, and for her grandchildren, she was born 1917, in Wales, I have no knowledge of her rank or number
Dorothy Mary "Doff" McPhee
hi i would like to find out if i could get my moms badage Ihave alot of pics of her in the land army thanks James Mcphee
Ivy Parkinson
My aunty, Ivy Parkinson, served in the Land Army in St. David's in Wales. She often talks about her time there with fond memories. She says they had good food and were given fresh eggs to take home when on leave.
Ida Joyce Beeson
My mother was in the land army and she had very fond memories of her time in the land army which she shared with myself and my sister. Unfortunately my mother passed away in 1995 and I have no other further details.
Jenny Swan "Etta" Turner
I am writing on behalf of my Gran who served in the land army during WW2, she will be 90 years in May. I am getting in touch after seeing on the news about women from the land army being recognised and felt I had to do this for her as it was at the time a great passion in her life and one she recalled to us as children, I feel it is the least we can do for her. Her name was Jenny Swan Turner at the time residing at Victoria Crescent, Clarkston, Glasgow
Vera Jones
My mother Vera Jones of Burnage, manchester was stationed on a farm near Ludlow with abouit 12 other women. I would like to find more about where the farm was and would like to hear from anyone who knew her. She was due to marry Capt Harry Tranter RASC on his return from abroad which she did. I am her elder daughter Carolyn.
Mary Pauline Bromley
At the time my name was Mary Pauline Savage. My date of birth is 15 February 1926 so as you can see I will soon be 82. I lived in Sheffield and joined the Land Arm in 1944 not long after I turned 18. They sent me to Worcester for training. The training involved general farm work, but also learning specialist skills in handling poisons and pest control which stood me in good stead in later life. I was stationed in Alvechurch, Malvern and Evesham but later I was able to transfer to Otley. Being back in Yorkshire I was able to go home more and there I met my future husband, Tom Bromley, who was a pilot in the RAF. We were married on 15th August 1947. My husband reckons that all that rat catching helped me to catch him!!! We were blessed with 2 sons and a daughter, and together we celebrated our Diamond Wedding Anniversary last year. At the beginning of this year we were presented with our first great grandchild, a daughter. My husband also has a few stories to tell about him being still really being only a boy when he had to learn how to fly aeroplanes to North Africa and the near-misses he had. If anyone is interested we would be delighted to try and recollect our experiences of our time during the war.
Mary Theresa Dillon
Joined August 1943 and left to get married June 1945
Patricia Lily Harris
My mother served in the Land Army during the war. Sadly she now suffers from Alzheimers Disease and her memories although detailed and colourful are unreliable. Sadly the farm she worked on in Ross-on-Wye in Herefordshire,is now unrecognisable and the people she remembers haved died or moved on. I know she would still recognise and value the recognition that has recently been promised.
Jessie Lilian Selena Dupey
We as a family are trying to trace any body who served with our Mum. She married Frederick Hutton in March 1945. My mother has now got altzeimers so is unable to give us much information ,but always talks about the time she served in the land army. she talks about a friend called Nora ,we know she was on a farm in somerset,as thats where she met my Dad, but he died 12 years ago. It would be lovely if some one can recall Jessie, she was 19 when she married my Dad, we know she faked her age to enlist. Mum grew up in London, but when married stayed in somerset
Dorothy Stewart
My mother served with the Land Army. Unfortunately she has died and we are trying to trace anything about our family that we can. Her name was Dorothy Stewart and she lived on Hillgate {not sure of the exact address}. She was born on 10th March 1928. We are led to believe she actually said she was old enough to join, but was in fact too young. The address was in Stockport, Cheshire. I vaguely remember her saying she stayed somewhere near Crewe Wybumberry or something like that. Could you please tell me if there is any way that I can find details about her life in the land army? I would be grateful for any help you could give me.
Margaret Hudson
I believe she was then called Margaret Hudson. She worked at Glebe Farm, Sarsden, near Churchill and Chipping Norton in Oxfordshire and was definitely there in 1944, some time between February and July. Any help much appreciated.
Phyllis Rutherford
After reading the article in the current Practical Family History Magazine, I connected to your site. I feverishly read all the contributions from former Land Girls but was disappointed to find no names or places to link them to me. I am 85 and it is perhaps too late to hope to find any of my colleagues, who included Sylvia Farrow, Pat Strange, June Hetherington, Madge, Kath, Vera, but my story may be of interest. I was trained in Stithians, Cornwall and spent the next three years in Wheathampstead, Hertfordshire. I seem to have missed out on any distribution of certificates in recognition of my service but I have always said they were the best years of my life.In 1942 I lied to my mother that to avoid direction into factory work I would have to join the Women's Land Army. I attended an interview in Oxford Street and when questioned on suitability I had to admit to none, except that I had read a lot about the countryside and it appealed to me. "What books have you read?" the lady asked. Er, that stumped me and I mumbled something about, "Man and his furry friends". In spite of that I was accepted and in due course dispatched to a farmer in Cornwall. I was a nuisance to my farmer straight away, as I had brought my bicycle and he had to arrange for it to be collected the next day. I found I was one of four or five Londoners off that train and we were all green as grass. As we walked into the farm buildings one of the girls said, "Oh what a dirty yard." The farmer glared at her and said, "Yes my girl, and your first job will be to clean it." Before the end of the month's training I helped to concrete that yard.
Somehow, the farmhands, with the support of a wonderful Head Girl, managed to teach us the rudiments of milking, hoeing, digging ditches, and there was one horror day when I held the squealing piglets for castration. I know one girl didn't last long and the farmer muttered angrily that these city girls couldn't stand being so far from Woolworths.
But I loved the life, though I didn't get on with the farmer. I was first sent to after training. I think it started when he complained about my having one hand in my pocket while turning the handle of the separator. It reached the stage where I wanted my mum and I left in a hurry, the local taxi proprietor lending me the train fare to London, me leaving my bicycle as security. Years later, while on holiday, I visited this farmer and over a cup of tea apologised for the trouble I had caused him, offering the excuse that if I had beeen a little older I might have been able to cope better. The Women's Land Army was very cross with me but I was transferred to Hertfordshire, where I settled happily for the next three years, being able to go home on my days off.
It was a dairy farm, there were eight other land girls, a delightful village, and it was really the best time of my life. We had rosters, so no job became monotonous. I liked best the early morning milk-run, first catching the reluctant pony, then making sure I had my bottle of cream off the top of the Jersey milk churn-no wonder I got fat.
The gentle meander through the village and down the lanes on a snowy morning, not another soul about, was sheer magic, in spite of having to leave the pony at the foot of a too-steep and slippery hill, and carry a heavy crate of bottles to the top. I got into the habit of buying the pony a currant bun on our return through the village, but it caused a problem on Sundays when the bakery was closed. Spot would stop, drag the float across the pavement and plant his feet on the shop step. I can't remember how this problem was solved, but I know some of the other girls were not pleased when it was their turn for the milk-run, especially if they were hurrying for their half-day off and Spot wouldn't budge from the bakery.
We were billeted out to homes in the village and I was with a dear old couple, the husband still working as a gardener. He came home on the train and his wife dare not miss hearing it, as he expected to see his meal on the table while he was taking off his boots and gaiters, so that it would be cooling to the right degree. There was no bathroom so I had to wash in my bedroom. One day I carried up a kettle of hot water and jug of cold, poured half of each into the basin and started with the dirtiest bits. I poured the rest of the hot into the cold, then had to empty the basin to start again. It wasn't until my landlady called up the stairs for the kettle to make the tea that I realised with horror that it was now filled with my dirty soapsuds. She was furious!
Another memorable day was my 21st birthday. I went into the cowshed and found a golden key tied to Buttercup's tail with a satin ribbon, and I moved the key from tail to tail as the milking progressed. While I was weighing the milk from my last cow someone let out the whole shed and my key went up into the meadow on Marigold's tail. I looked for it many times but it was never seen again. A highlight was the annual Harvest Home when the farmer treated his staff to a feast and dance in the barn. The farm secretary wrote little sketches for us girls to perform; I once had to wear a frilly apron and cap, knock on the door and say, "If you please ma'am, there's Miss Thurlow to see you." Just that, but it took hours of practice to get it right. Needless to say, after appearing day after day in our dungarees, we dressed to kill on these occasions, and one young man went through the whole affair in his best suit, heavy boots and bicycle clips.
There was an interlude when I went into a hostel and we were driven out by lorry every day to wherever needed, but I found no joy in picking up potatoes day after day, or brussels sprouts in the freezing early hours. I soon returned to my beloved cows and stayed with them until we were no longer needed. I went back a few years ago, and whilst the village was much as I remembered it, the farm, sadly was now a housing estate.
Nellie Plumb
My Great Aunt, Mrs. Nellie O'Dea served in the Women's Land Army and loves to tell her stories. I think she served around the Hertford Heath area and would love to hear from anyone who worked with her. Her maiden name was Nellie Plumb.
Gloria Dixon
I was 11 when the sombre tones of the Prime Minister announced that we were at war with Germany. But apart from the rush to join up, the knitting bees, sending wartime parcels to England, and the long casualty lists, the war was far away.
The school I attended was built along the railway line and every time a new contingent marched to the train to go to War our classes were interrupted to allow us to line the school fences to cheer the men on their way.
As in England we had rationing, and life was full of don'ts, but with the bombing of the hospital ship Centaur and the city of Darwin and air raid alerts; our lives were changed forever.
The war had come to us/ Schoolyards were dug up for trenches, shelters began to appear in the streets and the bombing started on our coastlines. Mostly we were unaware of the extent of this until well after the war had ceased; but one night the siren went in our town.
As we lived close to the railway, the Gasworks, and the Warf, that uncomfortable night was enough for Mum. She decided we would go to live in the quiet rural area near where she had lived when a child. That was a case of out of the frying pan into the fire - unknown to us the area was now a huge American camp, but Mum's only comfort was that we would never be gassed. (My father had died many years after the first war after being gassed on numerous occasions in France.)
The war was going badly for us, long lists of men and women killed and wounded began to appear every day, and the Japanese getting closer. Manpower was in and everyone was doing their bit. It was inevitable that there would be casualties in the town, and often there would be funerals for men and women who had been killed in air and road crashes, so the population would line the streets to watch the cortege pass to the small war cemetery. It remains a lovely serene beautifully kept area despite being on a busy highway.
I had this notion that I wanted to be a nurse but the starting age was 18, along way off for me. Food was a major concern as we had thousands of American troops as well as our own fighting forces; so at 15, I joined the Australian Women's Land Army.
No glamour attached to this job, always dirty, and often hungry as well, we worked at every rural job through the war often joined by our enemies the Italians.
We were not allowed to speak to them or work near them. They picked and packed fruit at one end of the paddock and the girls at the other end. These were men who volunteered to work and had been billeted with Italian families for the duration. In hindsight that does not seem to be a very good move but it worked quite well and they were willing cheerful workers.
The Japanese were in camp at Cowra and did not work nor were they given the opportunity, but one night they broke out of camp with a resulting loss of life.
The country dances were our sole entertainment, and our weekly wages went on ice cream sundaes, and tins of condensed milk mixed with milo and eaten with a spoon, usually after lights out was sounded.
Work was a 48 hr. week, and our wages 2pnds 50 pence but 1 pnd was deducted for board and lodging. Some matrons insisted on route marches when we had time to ourselves, we also kept the space round our beds clean and took turns at washing up and setting tables etc. We were often punished for some misdeed and I can remember the whole camp being confined to barracks because we had threatened to throw a union organizer into the nearby river if he persisted in trying to make us join the union. We argued that we were an army and wore the King's crown and would never go on strike, so we had no use for unions, but of course the real reason was that we had better uses for our money.
We bathed in a tin tub in front of a queue of other girls waiting their turn, and it was the subsequent loss of privacy that irked most. We lived in old deserted halls or tents with dirt floors, did our washing in tin tubs with a wood copper.
In the beginning we supplied our own clothing, sheets and blankets as factories were working flat out trying to keep the troops clothed. Later we were issued with a uniform, which we wore proudly.
One morning while picking beans on a hillside in Gympie a young farmhand came running and shouting for us to knock off; he said the war was over/ We were put on a train to Brisbane to join the celebrations.
That night lives in my memory forever, all traffic stopped, we hugged kissed and danced in the streets, but it was the lights that made the most impression, after years of blackout there were street lights and neon lights flashing, bells tolling and people singing.
In the morning, those of us who had joined for the duration were given a discharge and a ticket home, no chance to say goodbye, no thanks either but 40 years on a medal
We watched with horror the return of relatives from prison camps, the devastation of cities from bombing, and the bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki and wondered how it could all be justified.
The only good thing to result from war is the wonderful feeling of mateship and the population's ability to pull together to do whatever has to be done
Janet Sproat Johnstone
During WW2 my mum, Janet Sproat Johnstone and my aunt were both in the Land Army. At the time Janet was working in Patersons, (the grain merchants) taking the orders for the various grain feedstuff over the phone in the office. As the men were called up to go into the services, she then graduated to going out with a small lorry taking and delivering the orders to various farms.
She was called up into the Land Army and was sent to the farm where she’d been born (one of the farm cottages at South Woodhill Farm near Kilmaurs). Once she was there she helped with the milking, the planting of potatoes and corn etc, and stacking the corn after it was cut by a scythe at harvest time. She them took the corn back to the farm by horse and cart for it to go through the threshing machine, which at the time was still driven by steam traction engine. She also worked at the hay and various other chores around the farm and as the season’s work progressed, the ploughing and harrowing with a team of horses.
On one occasion she was going back to the farm after visiting her parents at Stirling Avenue, Bonnyton, Kilmarnock, and had started to walk back up to Fardalehill road towards the farm of the same name. As she walked up she was met by the farm manager whom we later called Uncle Quint. He had come across the grass park from the farm to meet her coming back from the town. He did this because of the mandatory blackout which meant there were no lights for fear of attracting any German pilot’s coming over on a bombing raid.
One day as they met on the road, they both heard the loud of an approaching plane coming overhead. Quickly my mum and Uncle Quint dived into the ditch beside the hedge and took cover. “Quick Jinty, get yersel doon in here…the plane’s nae one of oors, it’s a bloody German!” After waiting for a while till the noise of the engines died away they got up from their hiding place and duly made their way back to the farm. Whereupon my Aunt Jenny made my mum have a restorative drink before packing her off to bed. That particular plane later crashed somewhere between Kilmaurs and Stewarton.
My Aunt Bessie drove a milk float to collect the milk from the farms to the dairy for bottling, bringing in the full milk churns and returning the empties. Sometimes when she was driving back along the Ayr road, she gave the soldiers a lift to the road that led to the Dundonald Camp, not meaning to, but sometimes they would sneak onto the back of the float as she made her way between the town and the various farms.
My Aunt Grace on the other hand was sent to work at a market garden.
My uncle Bill (my mum’s brother) & uncle George (Bessie’s husband) were both in the RAF and my uncle Reynold (my dad’s younger brother) was in the army and over in France. My father, Johnnie Johnstone was in a reserved occupation as he worked as a grain compounder with Patersons. However, he was also on firewatch looking out for incenderies on the roofs of the various town buildings.
Renee Katz
My mother was born and brought up in the East End of London, one of a family of five sisters, one brother and a father. Her mother, my maternal grandmother, had died when they were small children. They lived lives of poverty and deprivation, many children had rickets and every large family had one or two baby siblings in the cemetery.
The sons and daughters of working class families of their generation usually stayed near their parental home and continued to live for most of their lives close to where they were born. That is until the war disrupted the pattern of life for these communities.
My mother and her two sisters (the three youngest of the family) were called up. One opted for munitions factory work, but my mother and her youngest sister chose to join the Land Army.
This was a marvellous opportunity for young women who had little opportunity to travel, especially town girls who had no experience of country life. My mother had been a dressmaker; she now found herself living in rural Cambridgeshire, working as a farmer, picking fruit and vegetables. The farms in this part of the world were small-holdings - market gardens mainly.
When she speaks of her time on the land my mum's eyes light up. She loved the work, loved the fresh air and the friendship. Twenty or so girls lived in a village called Willingham in a supervised hostel. They were allocated to local farms and, by and large, cycled to work. Not every girl was happy, but my mother speaks with affection about the farming family who owned, or more likely leased, the farm on which she worked.
She remembers picking tomatoes in greenhouses with rain pounding on the glass roof. She was a town girl who made an effortless transition to country life, susceptible to the beauties of nature and the seasons. What a change for a dressmaker who had spent her working life in slum sweatshops!
There was a good social life as well. My mum was in her mid-twenties and still single and my aunt a little younger. They would cycle into Cambridge on their days off to go dancing at Dorothy's in the centre of Cambridge. (This is now a multiplex cinema). American and British troops stationed nearby outnumbered the girls, so there was no lack of attention. My mum and my aunt first tasted peanut butter and bananas at a dance on the American Service base.
The success of the Yanks did not make them popular with the British boys, who couldn't offer such luxuries. Some of the girls went on to new lives in the USA with American husbands. Imagine the shock and excitement of arriving in America after spending life in, say, domestic service in rural England, or doing factory work in urban slums.
Cycling was the best way to travel. Although there was a curfew for the girls at the hostel, I have gained the impression that they had considerable freedom, or at least managed to escape the overseeing eye of the hostel warden. But it seems that, despite the ample opportunities for fraternising with men, most of the girls abided by the social rules of the day and cycled back to the hostel after an evening out, obedient to the curfew.
Those who went into Cambridge by bus often lodged with families in town if they missed the last bus back to the village. In a war society, being invited to sleep overnight with strangers was the way things happened. The hospitality was provided out of sheer generosity of spirit, and accepted by the girls in innocence. My mum never spoke of unplanned pregnancies, though I imagine they occurred. The war spirit affected everyone. Lifts were given to any soldier and, of course, to Land Girls. Trucks carrying troops would readily stop for the girls, their bicycles hoisted on board, and friendships struck. Romance readily followed.
A prisoner of war camp was sited a few miles out of Cambridge. The Italian troops held there were sent to work on the farms and learned a little English. Their lukewarm commitment to fighting is what my mother remembers most clearly. They had surrendered readily and were biding their time in relatively benign captivity. It is perhaps a tribute to the civilised nature of British society then, that they made no complaints about their treatment. Although my mum can't personally recall any liaisons between Italian prisoners and English girls, they must have happened.
My mother married before the end of the war. Her photograph shows her dressed in a rather splendid smart, short, tailored dress, a lovely violet colour she tells me. The tailored, slightly masculine style, perhaps reflecting the war's demand that women do men's work, was rather flattering. Of course, my mum made the dress herself with whatever materials she could lay her hands on. She left the Land Army before the war ended, when she fell pregnant with my older sister.
Ida Keyes
I was living at Thorpe End near Norwich during the war, on my parents’ farm. On one occasion I had a head-on collision with an American army truck which ran into me in the fog in Salhouse. The American army had bought a field off Sir Edward Stracey who lived in the Hall, and they turned it into an airfield. They had done the same with many landowners. On the occasion of the collision the Americans were travelling on the wrong side of the road. I was taken to the American’s hospital and seen by an American doctor. In the evening the local policeman came round to see me. My vehicle was condemned, but I recovered in a few days. Afterwards I would wake up at night and think about the accident.
I used to collect three German Prisoners of War each day and bring them to my parents’ home to work on the farm. They worked well. When it was time for them to go back one of them cried. I used to take them for breakfast in the morning and mother gave them a jug of tea and lunch. There was a Captain Richardson in charge of them, and he used to book them in and out each day. There is now a church on the site where the Prisoner of War camp used to be – on the West side of the Heartsease Estate near Mousehold.
After a raid I used to drive into Norwich in the blackout to see if my grandparents were alright. They lived on the Plumstead Road near the prison in a bungalow they had had built for them – it was about three miles from where I lived in Thorpe End. We had a C license to run a vehicle and used to get petrol coupons from Cambridge. We had to apply to Cambridge every month for the license. We could hear it in Thorpe End when they were bombing Norwich. Carter the builder built out dug-out for us. There were steps that went down into it, and we had real beds in there, so we thought we were safe. They killed a family on the Salhouse Road when their house got a direct hit. They were a wealthy family of bankers.
Marion Gardner
I joined the Womens Land Army in May 1940 and in January 1944 I was sent to work on an 18 acre small holding at Ewell. In the early summer, as it was so hot, we decided to start work at 5.30am so that we could cut the cabbages from the fields, weigh them and bag them ready for market before the sun was too hot to spoil them.
We used to count the RAF planes going over in formation wo Europe, when they returned we counted them again, to see how many were missing. On a glorious June morning, with blue skies and sunshine, wave after wave of planes went over. We counted them as usual and guessed that something important was happening. Hours later we heard them returning, some planes were "limping" home with damaged engines and some were missing. We thought of the lost brave men. Were they killed or injured or prisoners and we stood in silence with our thoughts. It was June 6th 1944 and we learned that it was D-Day - the invasion of Europe.
Soon after the flying bombs started they were nicknamed "Doodlebugs" (an American flying beetle). They were terrifying and we would hear the roar of the engine and see flames coming from the back of the plane as it came over us, then silence as the engine stopped and down it came and exploded. We were issued with tin hats and instructions to this lying down!!! which was all we could do having no sort of shelter in open fields.
The flying bombs came over from June till September night and day. Then the V2 rockets started. There was no warning sign, only a dreadful explosion as the rocket propelled bomb hit the ground. During this time we were harvesting a neighbours wheat, the machine cut and tied the bundles of corn. My friend and I "stooked" it was standing four sheaves together to be threshed next day, removing the corn from the stalks. We had lovely straight rows of stooks down the field, until a doodlebug came over. Then we fell down flat and got up a bit shaky so the line wavered. At that time we had "double summer time" so it was light enough to work till 11pm while getting the harvest in.
Audrey M Manning
After working in an office for two years, I joined the Women's Land Army in 1942. I was sent to a small general farm near Staplehurst for four weeks' training, after which time I felt as if I had been working on a farm all my life, ready to tackle any job. Some of the old hands doubted whether we'd stick it. I heard such scathing comments, like "What have they sent you for?" or "This ain't no work for you young gals, you won't be able to 'ave no babies!" Then I was sent to a market garden farm at Offham with another Land Girl, Peggy. Along with the local women, we packed lettuces twenty four to a box, pulled radishes and washed and tied them into bundles, packed rhubarb into boxes and spent days at a time picking peas off the bines, which had previously been pulled and left in huge piles. One especially nice job was picking strawberries early in the morning before the sun was hot. We were paid piecework rates for this, so there was only time to eat an occasional strawberry. There was also the onion field, where we spent weeks toiling away at some task or other, crawling along the rows hand hoeing, with sacking tied round our knees, then pressing the onion tops down. Later, we were pulling them and laying them out for drying off, until they were ready for bagging up. It was while we were working in this onion field that we saw the cows, in single file, going into the cowshed for milking. We were told that each cow had a name and made her own way to her stall. We thought this sounded daft, not believing cows could be so intelligent, so the next day we stood just inside the cowshed to see for ourselves. There was pandemonium; two cows came in and on seeing us charged out again and the whole herd went berserk. Needless to say, the cowman was very cross with us! With the coming of winter, there were jobs of a different nature to do. Hedging and ditching were part of this, even in the pouring rain, but we were issued with an oilskin and sturdy gumboots. Brussel sprouts covered in snow had to be picked and when the weather was too bad, we mended boxes under cover. The local women on that farm were not too friendly towards us; I think they thought we were going to take their jobs from them. Towards the end of 1942, I went to a farm near Maidstone with other Land Army girls, to demonstrate our recently acquired skills. This was organised by the Kent Agricultural Committee and among the guests were Lord and Lady Woolton, Lord Woolton being the wartime Minister of Food, also Lady Denman who was the head of the Women's Land Army. I was very proud to win certificates for grooming horses, planting cabbages and lifting and topping swedes. I enjoyed working on the farm at Offham, but after a year or two Peggy and I thought we'd like to widen our farming skills. We were transferred to a mixed farm at Frittenden, where we lived in the farmhouse. There was no electricity on that farm and we even had to pump the water from a well before we could have a wash in the morning. The primitive outside toilet consisted of a board with a hole in the middle! We learnt how to milk a cow by hand as well as by machine. We were a bit slow at first, but with practice we got faster. When all the cows had been milked and fed, we went indoors for our breakfast, a really big breakfast, porridge with molasses treacle, then bacon, egg and sausages. Cholesterol-free diets were unheard of in those days. After breakfast, we returned to the cowshed to muck out. Then came the great day; I learnt to drive a tractor. After ten minutes' tuition I was alone on the Fordson, harrowing and rolling as if I had been doing it for years. That night, I remember dreamimg I was driving round and round the field and woke up sitting on the side of the bed, shouting "I can't stop, I can't stop". We had double summer time in the War years, so this meant we could work until past ten o'clock at night, harvesting. Combine harvesters were new then and only big farmers could afford one. Harvsting meant cutting the corn into sheaves, then picking up a sheaf under each arm and placing them into stooks to dry. This wasn't a very pleasant job as the straw made the inside of my arms very sore. Later, the sheaves were all piled into the wagon and carried off to the barn ready for threshing in the winter, which was a very dusty job. At the end of a day's harvesting, we would all gather in the barn for some home brewed cider and bread and cheese. The farmer was somewhat economical with the sugar, so it was really strong stuff! If we were working with animals, this meant a six-day week, but regardless of the number of hours we worked, we received a weekly wage of £2.00, out of which £1.00 had to be given to our landlady. Nobody grumbled, for we thoroughly enjoyed the life. Working in the open air gave us huge appetites and it was quite a headache for landladies to devise meals on wartime rations. Our only extra allowance was twelve ounces of cheese per week. By exerting considerable will-power I got used to drinking unsweetened tea, thus enabling our landlady to save sugar for jam-making and cakes for tea breaks. Oddly enough, we were never short of energy or a few coppers for evening entertainment; local Army units would invite groups of Land Girls to dances, often transporting us in the back of a lorry. Most of us were mobile, on two wheels not four; we were able to reach the nearest town and spend an evening at the pictures. I also belonged to the local Young Farmers' Club, acting as Press Secretary and I gained second prize at the annual Y.F.C. Public Speaking Contest for a speech on 'Tomato Growing'. Looking back at my years in the Women's Land Army, I can honestly say they were very happy years. When I went home at weekends, I felt really proud walking along my home town Rochester's High Street, wearing my uniform. It was a great honour to have served in the W.L.A.
K O'Dell
I was a Land Army girl and one memory I have was when my friend and I had a job to do collecting brussels sprout stalks with a horse and cart and filling in bomb craters. The idea was to back the horse and cart to the crater, put the back down and release the sprout stalks. Being such conscientious girls we pushed the horse as well as the cart down into the crater - and my friend went down, too. You can imagine the pandemonium. I yelled for help and eventually some farm men came running over and. One had to unharness the horse and another saw to my badly shaken friend while a tractor pulled out the cart. The dear old horse, Deba, was none the worse for wear and we carried on with our work, feeling quite sheepish about the whole affair.
The friend,Vera, still lives in America. She married a GI and moved there after the War. It was a great life on the land - hard, hard work, often in the icy cold and wet, but we did have some lovely summers. We worked till late at night, cutting corn, stacking sheaves, thrashing, but the worst for all of us was collecting the ghastly barley chaff with its dirt and prickles in your clothes in the sweltering heat.
Can any ex-Land Girl remember the lovely harvest teas we had brought out to us by the farmers' wives? Do they remember cutting the legs off our dungarees in the summer to get a lovely tan?
Doris Paterson
When the war broke out I was 18, and a year later I joined the Land Army in 1940. I loved the open air, and so decided to go into the Women's Land Army rather than the forces or factory work. I was based at Buckhold, which had a huge garden and we supplied St Andrew's School with food. We grew mainly fruit and vegetables, but we were allowed to keep a couple of pigs as well, which were fed the remains of the meals from the school.
I didn't have any particular job, we did everything from sawing down trees, to picking brussel sprouts that had ice on them in the winter! One of the hardest jobs was helping the farmers when they harvested the corn. We would be out 'threshing' the corn, and we get covered in dust and the roughage. We were constantly hungary because we were always on rations, and we couldn't get a decent bath either. I worked with one other girl, called Kathleen and we became very good friends (I recently tracked her down after 53 years!) I also worked with a gardener called Mr Brooker and a couple of other lads.
Buckhold was surround by American forces in Pangbourne, Caversham, Aldermast and Greenham Common. Whenever I went to a dance there were always lots of American soliders! The American Red Cross wanted volunteers to help with the breakfasts for the troops in the early morning. Kathleen and I both volunteered as it meant that we got free passes to the dances! We must have been mad, because after being up late the night before, we would have to get up early to help clear tables at the old St. Lawrences Hall in Reading! But we were young and had no ties and we were very lucky really, as all the gentlemen were very nice.
I worked at Buckhold for about three years, and although there were times when I felt that the rationing was harsh, I couldn't even afford a dress for the dances, because I didn't have enough coupons left after buying pyjamas! It was time of great freedom and it was wonderful to be able to walk freely and accept lifts from people because there was a great deal of goodwill and trust as we were all in the same boat.
Mabel Irene Thomas
On 3 September 1939, war was declared by Great Britain and France on Germany, and so World War 2 started. These were very frightening times. I was 20 years old at the time, and too old to be evacuated from my home in the ship-building town of Barrow-in-Furness in North West England, on the edge of the English Lake District. My father, being a Royal Naval reservist and a coppersmith by trade, was called up immediately into the Royal Navy, holding the rank of Chief Petty Officer.
Early in 1940, German aircraft dropped their first bombs on Barrow. These were incendiaries which landed very close to our home, but the Fire Brigade quickly dealt with them. We were issued with gas masks, which we had to carry everywhere with us in case of gas warfare.
Every home was provided with an Air Raid Shelter, ours was an Anderson and dug well into the ground in the garden. We spent many nights sitting there, well wrapped up, listening to the German planes flying overhead and wondering if the next high explosive bomb would land on us. After heavy rain our shelter, which we called 'Jerry View', would become flooded which meant that we would have to sit there without light or heat, fully clothed and with Wellingtons on, listening to the planes flying overhead, their target being the local shipyards.
Every night we packed a suitcase with our valuable documents and everything else of importance, including a first aid box and flasks filled with hot drinks, and took them into the shelter. My father came home on leave on one occasion, saw the shelter flooded and remarked that we would probably die of pneumonia first than from the effects of the bombing. During daytime raids we would be directed by an Air Raid Warden to the nearest surface shelter, which were usually brick built.
In May 1941, when the bombing was at its height, our home became damaged from the effects of bombs falling on a neighbouring housing estate and became uninhabitable. We were fortunately unhurt, and my mother found rented accommodation in the neighbouring town of Dalton-in-Furness.
During the same year, young women were being drafted into war work, and as a preference to working in a munitions factory, I decided to join the Women's Land Army (WLA) as it seemed to offer the healthy outdoor life which appealed to me. The WLA enabled men folk working on the land to be called up for military service.
I joined on 10 June 1941. Members of the WLA were part of the Ministry of Agriculture and were employed on the basis of a guaranteed weekly wage as laid down by the Agricultural Wages Board, covering a working week of not more than 48 hours in winter and not more than 50 hours in summer. I received a cash weekly wage of 22s.6d. (about £1.12p) after a deduction to cover board and lodging provided by my employer. I was paid for all public holidays and also for my annual holiday of six days, when I was given a free return rail warrant to my home. Members of the WLA were employed in horticulture, general farm work, ploughing, hedging, milking, land reclamation, pest extermination, harvesting, threshing and some even became shepherdesses. On joining I was posted, along with about 30 other Land Girls, to a WLA hostel in Letterston, in Pembrokeshire, a very long way from my home in Barrow.
We had a housekeeper looking after us, and were taken daily by lorry in all kinds of weather, complete with our beetroot sandwiches (which I came to loathe), to work on different arable farms in the area - potato picking, hedge trimming and corn threshing in its season, which was very dirty and horribly uncomfortable work.
Some days, as a change, we had cheese sandwiches, and these also I loathed. Over the days I became very unhappy, leading a life far removed from that depicted on the recruiting posters. Seeing that I was so miserable, Mrs Betty Ladd, the WLA representative in charge, suggested to me that I apply to fill a vacancy for a Land Girl at Pentre Mansion at Boncath, also in Pembrokeshire. This I successfully did, moving at the same time as Mrs Ladd, who was returning there. Initially Mrs Ladd and I had board and lodging in a neighbouring village, cycling to and from our work, but on approaching the tenant of Pentre Home Farm he gave us permission to convert one of the empty farm buildings, and we made ourselves a very comfortable billet. The days of beetroot or cheese sandwiches were now a thing of the past.
I was employed in the horticultural section of the WLA, my work being mainly in the greenhouses, thinning the grapes on the vines, pollinating the peaches and nectarines with a rabbit's foot and making sure that everything was well watered. I also picked the soft fruit, climbed the apple trees in the orchard, packing the surplus fruit ready to take to the shops in Cardigan for sale. The head gardener, together with four other gardeners, was involved in keeping the estate in good order with the digging of the gardens, mowing the lawns, etc, although I did a lot of the planting out.
During the war, Pentre Mansion, owned by the Saunders-Davies family, was commandeered by the Military Authorities to be used as an Auxiliary Hospital and Convalescence Home for sick and wounded servicemen. They occupied one half while the family lived in the other.
The mansion was a beautiful place, with its glittering chandeliers hanging from the ceilings and oil paintings of the family and their ancestors hanging on the walls of each room. The rooms had colourful names - the blue room or pink room, for example - and in them stood suits of armour which had been worn by the family ancestors during previous campaigns. The staff had all been retained - the cook, the maids, Lloyd the chauffeur who would convey the servicemen to and from the local railway station in the family limousine when they were going on or returning from leave. The service personnel were cared for by Voluntary Aid Detachment (VAD) nurses under the command of Matron, with an Army Medical Officer attending weekly. Sunday morning service was held in the chapel attached to the mansion, with one of the nurses playing the organ and the local vicar conducting the service.
The service personnel in their dress of vivid blue suit, white shirt, red tie and forage cap or beret were not allowed to walk into the gardens, but were allowed in the grounds in the front of the mansion, their discipline being maintained under an Army Sergeant Major.
Miss Barbara Saunders-Davies, the daughter of the family and about ten years older than me, bred beautiful Palomino horses. These were a lovely golden colour with cream mane and tail, and after work I spent many pleasant hours being taught horse riding by her.
Having been at Pentre since early 1942 I had met very many of the patients, socially and through my work, but none had really gained my affections until June 1945, when Royal Marine Stanley Ogilvie came to Pentre as a patient to recuperate from war wounds and attacks of malaria. I realised when I saw him that this was to be my future. Good looking, six feet tall, dark and handsome and resplendent in his dress uniform, and when we became better acquainted, I appreciated his sincerity and intelligence and we got on well together. We became engaged after a while, Stan leaving Pentre in August 1945 returning to his base at Plymouth, before being medically discharged.
World War 2 was now at an end. It had been at a tremendous cost, with enormous loss of life and a great deal of suffering to many more.
I was granted a willing release from the Land Army in January 1947, and it was with mixed feelings that I left Pentre, returning to my home in Barrow, which by then had been repaired and had become habitable once again. Stan came to live in Barrow and was successful in obtaining employment in the General Offices of the Barrow Haematite Steel Co Ltd.
We married on 16 August 1947, spending our honeymoon at Douglas in the Isle of Man, and then setting up home on Walney Island near Barrow. In 1950 our identical twin daughters, Dilys and Glenys were born. In 1965 Stan was offered a post in the Civil Service in Swansea. We moved there and it is where we still live. I am now an 85-year-old great-grandmother, and looking back over my life, I believe that it is the taking part during the growing up of the family which has given me most satisfaction, with us both helping our daughters to get on in life and to become good citizens, just the same as we were taught by our parents. The tendency to reminisce about the past is not just looking back, it's more like living one's youth and life all over again.
My tale has been about Past Times
The Present is with us
The Future is yet to come
Let us endeavour to make the most of it,
To the benefit of those we love and cherish
To the benefit of our fellow human beings as well as
To the benefit of ourselves.
Margaret Anna "Peggy" Finney
My mum, Peggy (Margaret)Finney, later Buss, of Camberwell, London, servied in the Land Army during the later years of the war before becoming a WREN. She sadly passed away in 1992, but was always proud of her service to her country, as we were proud of her. I'm very glad to see that the contribution of women during WWII is starting to be more widely recognised. I'd be glad to hear from anyone who remebers my mum.
Kathleen Godden
i was in the land army and worked for mr stickels who had a farm in ash near canterbury kent,i would love to hear from anyone who also was a land girl working in that area in 1940 1941.
Mabel Hawthorn Macaluso
My Mom, Mabel Hawthorn Macaluso, who is now 81 years old, was in the Land Army - it was during that time that she met my dad while he was serving in the US Army Aircorp. Mom used to deliver milk to the American base from the farm she worked on in Long Marston. Mom and dad have been married for nearly 65 years - my brother was born during the War. After the War, mom and my brother came over to the states, via New York, along with hundreds of other war brides. Mom and dad have gone back to England many many times over the years and every time they go back they always take a side trip to where they courted during the War and for many years Mom kept in contact with owners and the children of the owners of the farm she worked at. My Mom will be so excited to read all the articles on your website and I will encourage her write down her memories of this special time in her life. Although I am 55 yers old, my mom is still my hero and I love her deeply and love hearing her stories of her childhood and growing up during the War.
Edna Drake
I joined the Land Army in 1943, I was 16 years old & could not wait until I was 17 so I put my age up & hoped nobody would find out. I was sent first to Strensall near York, I was in a hostel with other new recruits who were all friendly. I remember my first job was feeding turkeys & general farm work. I was a city girl with no experience of country life but I soon became used to it, I never enjoyed the early mornings though.
Later on I was transferred to Stogumber in Somerset,oh dear cycling up those long hills at the end of a long tiring day. The hostel had been a lovely old house with a large garden, a pleasant place to be. A group of us always went somewhere on the train at weekends,often to Minehead to enjoy the sea air, sometimes to Taunton if we had any money to spare for shopping. There was not much in the shops of course & all clothing was on coupons, sometimes my Mum would send me some of her coupons, what a treat that was.
I left Somerset & was sent to Sandown on the I.O.W. again to be billeted in a lovely old house taken over by the Govt to house Land Girls. It was a happy time there, my sister was living in Shanklin which was great, I could visit her,just a short bus ride away. I decided to try milking & dairy work & gained a proficiency certificate for that in due course. I dont remember any air raids there on the Island,we were lucky to be free from all that. I met my future husband in Sandown, he had just returned from Burma & was demobbed from the R.A.F. & having a holiday . David lived in Southampton,we did a lot of travelling on the ferry from Ryde to Portsmouth! I spent the last part of my service in East Meon,or was it West Meon? I lived on a dairy farm with the farmer & his family,that was a very pretty part of Hampshire.
I suppose memory retains the good things, I know there were winter mornings in Yorkshire with heavy frosts & hedging & ditching was hard going. I wish I could remember the names of some of the girls I met during those years, I stayed on in the Land Army until 1947 & was married in 1948. I have no regrets & counted myself lucky to have such a healthy life which I feel sure has helped to keep me fit & well into my 82nd year.
Celia Hughes
I was born and brought up in Meanwood, I was evacuated from Notre Dame school in 1939 then signed up for the WLA in 1942. I was so innocent at the time, not even 18. I left Leeds at the age of 17 to serve for three years with the WLA. I was a rat catcher and really enjoyed it, although we didn't have the choice to be scared of them. First I was sent to the countryside, picking potatoes in Wales and then to Cornwall to catch rats. I was given a van to drive in a team of four. They didn't have driving tests or traffic lights in those days. I have lots of happy memories. I met my husband Fred, who was in the Royal Artillery Corps in Penzance. and we returned to Leeds in 1945 to marry.
The Land Army Girls were not very well recognised at the time for our service, so it is nice to be finally given a badge for our contribution. Sadly most of my pals from those days have died now, so they will never know.
Isa Barker
This is such a great site! I am proud that my mother, Isa Barker, served in the Scottish Women's Land Army. I know from her stories what a very hard life it was, and for the contribution that so many women made during that time to have gone unrecognised for so long is a disgrace. I am delighted that this is now changing and these wonderful women are to be acknowledged at last.
Fred Hughes Royal Artillery
I met my husband Fred in Penzance while I was serving with the Land Army, he was with the Royal Artillery, we got married in 1945.
Audrey Marshall
I started work at 14 years old at the Co-operative Boot and Shoe factory in Education Road, off Meanwood Road, Leeds. I am now aged 83.
When war started we were doing army boots, but when I was 17-and-a-half, although I was exempt, I volunteered for the Women's Land Army to do my bit for my country, also because my five brothers and one brother-in-law were serving soldiers. Myself and another girl were sent to a private farm, Portobella Farm, Croft-on-Tees, Darlington. We did men's work: milking, feeding animals, harvesting, digging, etc.
I met my husband, who was a private in the Royal Tank Regiment station at Barnard Castle, Durham, and married on 8 December, 1945 (sadly he is no longer with us). For three-and-a-half years we worked hard from 5.30am to sometimes 9.30pm. It was very hard for a town girl to adjust to life on a farm but we did.
We looked forward to Saturday nights when we went to the village hall for dancing. It was a little village called North Cowton. Nearby was a soldiers' camp and they also enjoyed a bit of recreation, some were Americans and Australians. Most of them had left wives, children and parents behind.
I have some lovely, happy memories. It would be nice to have a badge to prove that we did do our bit and something that my family would have to be proud of me.
Ethal Lilian Ellis
I am looking to contact people who served with my Auntie, Ethal Ellis at Flintham between Bingham and Newark. Or people who just served at Flintham. I am trying to build up a bigger picture of my Auntie's life in WLA.
Frances Ellen Gathercole
My Grandmother Mrs Frances Ellen Rutterford (nee Gathercole) was one of the land army girls, working on farms in the area of Burnt Fen, a small hamlet Nr Mildenhall Suffolk. Unfortunately she passed away in 2007 aged 86. It wasn't until the family was going through old photos etc. after her death that we found her enrolment certificate, her leaving certificate and a letter from the late Queen mother thanking her for all her hard work. She had never told any one about receiving the letter, so it was a complete shock and honour to find.
I am in correspondence to see if it would be at all possible for my dad to collect her land arm recognition badge in her honour but I am being told no. This is a matter that I feel very strongly about, after all the girls kept the nations going while our men were fighting. If a soldier got killed at war their families are allowed to accept their medals in their honour so why shouldn't we be able to do the same. I would love to know if anyone else out there feels the same. We also have her uniform, an arm band and her medals from the time. Receiving the new recognition badge in the honour of ladies who did their best to keep everything going in our men's absence and succeeded is all we are asking for.
Joyce Elkington
My Mom, Joyce Elkington would love to see her name on the list of Land Girls because she worked so hard and loved the Land Army so much.
Marjorie Eagle
I am writing on behalf of my mother, Marjorie Envall. She was in the Womens Land Army in the England during the second world war. Her name at that time was Marjorie Eagle and she lived in Northampton. She believes she joined in 1941. Her memory is not as good as it was and she is a little confused about her dates of service. She has many fond memories of that time and is so proud of having been a Land Army Girl. She keeps her land army pictures displayed on her living room wall. I think it would be wonderful if she was to receive a badge to acknowledge her contribution to the war effort. It would be nice if she could be included on your list and perhaps a possibility of contact with someone she worked alongside in what she describes as, " some of the best years of my life". She now resides in Canada, where we have lived since 1957.
Doris Ellen Webster
My mother Doris Ellen Chaffey (nee Webster) was in the WLA, she was at Culford Forestry Camp, Bury St.Edmonds, she has told me some funny stories of how they used to sleep on "3 biscuits"" which were 3 square straw filled pads, and eventheir pillow was straw. She said it was hard work felling trees for telegraph poles and pit props. lots of blisters she even remembers the name of the hook that took the leaves off, a Bill hook. My mother is now 87, and would love to hear from anyone who was at the Culford Forestry Camp. We live on the Sunshine Coast, in Queensland Australia.
Catherine Speirs
My mother Catherine Speirs served in the Scottish Land Army in WW2. She was a teenager when the war started and spent the war years working in Ayrshire. I know she had many happy times and formed many friendships but found the physical farm work hard as she was a city girl and quite tiny.
She will be delighted when she hears about the medal presentation as recognition for the great effort of the Land Army girls during the war for the Nation.
Joan Parker
Is there any one out there that remembers my Auntie, Joan Parker who served with the WLA? She worked at Williamsons Farm at Keythorpe Lodge in Leicestershire.
Doris Feltham
My mum was in the WLA in Hertfordshire on Watkins farm at Watton at Stone and also worked in Pooley's market garden Crawley Sussex. Her name then was Doris Feltham she is now Doris Evans and lives with my Dad in Horsham. It would be good if her efforts could be recognised.
Edna May Woolford
My Mother-in-law was in the land army her name was Edna May Woolford she was posted at a farm called Elms Farm in Nuneaton Warwickshire.
Irene "Bobbie" Heath
I joined the land army in April 1942 and went to Loxton in Somerset with 16 other girls we stayed in a purpose built hostel. I was placed on a farm Chiston Court where I did General farming until 1945.I never went back to London.I trained as a milk analyst and worked for a local dairy until I married I must admit my time in the land army was the best ever although the hours were long and the work hard I was 17yrs old when I joined I can't see the young girls of today coping with the work unless of course they are farmers daughters.
Elsie Doyle
My mother served in the Land Army but cannot remember much as she is 88 years old. She was born 1920 in Bakewell Derbyshire so if any one has any memories of my mother could you please email
Alice May Priest
I am writing in a bid to search for anyone who might remember serving in the Land Army with my Nanna, Alice May Priest in the Second World War. Sadly my Nana passed away recently but being part of the Land Army was something she was always intensely proud of.
Unfortunately, we have no details of where Nanna was based but she was living in Hull when the war began and would have been 20 years of age. I can remember as a child hearing her stories – many of which included stories of the American soldiers!!! If there is anyone who can remember anything it would be greatly appreciated if you could contact me. Thanks
Isobel Waddon
My Grandmother, Isobel Waddon, died without disclosing much information about her time she spent in the land army. I would love to here from someone who served with her. I would like to hear their stories or see any photos they may have. She came from West Lulworth.
Molly Gunn
I served in the Land Army in Devon.
Maggie Baldry
It was avery healthy life in the open air, I can remember I was always hungry. It is so long ago, and as I was only 16 and a half in 1945 when I joined, I didnt keep any records. I was in a hostel near Woodbridge,on field work.
Anne Phyllis Hopley
I found this wonderful site whilst searching for information regarding the announcement that the WLA girls are to be awarded a commemorative badge. My mum Anne Phyllis Hopley who served in the Land Army in the North West will be 90 soon and i cant think of a more fitting birthday present for such a wonderful fiesty lady.
Marjorie Benham
This is a picture of my aunt Marjie (was Marjorie Benham, now Macdonald). She is the one at the front right-hand side of the attached picture. The lady to her left in the white shirt/blouse was Helen Clixby. She would love to make contact with anyone who remembers her from those days in Devon. She now lives in Essex.
Anyone wishing to make contact can do so by contacting me first and I will pass on their details so she can make contact with them direct. She is not on the Internet herself.
I have given her the 0800 phone number to call with regards to the WLA commemorative badges. Thanks,
Edna Davies
My mum Edna Davies from Liverpool joined the Women's Land Army in 1944 and was initially based at Sileth in Cumbria. She is thrilled that the contribution she and many other women made during and after WW2 is at last going to be recognised. She would also love to hear from anyone that knew her then, especially Thelma Kennedy also of Liverpool. My mum enjoys good health and lives a very active life in Northern Ireland where she settled after her marriage. I'm only doing this because she not become a silver surfer - yet!
Hopefully, there will be some form of event that she can attend to meet up with comrades when she receives her badge? And many thanks for your site
Maud Atchison
Does any one have any information on or photos of my Grandmother, Maude Atchison who served with the womens land army in Glasgow such as Galston or New Mill farms in Ayrshire, as she has lost all her photos and letters.
Hilda Richards
My Mum was recently asked to recount her memories of her Land Army days which she did and jotted them down. I typed them up and she is happy for them now to be passed on to you. She was Hilda Richards then and joined in the spring of 1943 working on the land of Richard Dennis on the Haverholme Estate near Sleaford, Lincolnshire until November 1946. She had moved from Nottingham where she had worked in Roughton's drapery shop before the change of life style...which - as with other ladies who have related their memories, was obviously a time of great camaraderie and satisfaction!
Congratulations to all the 'girls' that they will at last receive their recognition and I'm sure,wear their badges with pride!
During the war, boys were called up for duty at 17 years and three months - and quite a lot of girls were too! Some were sent to the ATS, WAFFS and WRENS but mostly girls were sent to work in munitions. My two older sisters had joined the Land Army and I followed suit when I was old enough.
Quite a lot of the girls had been shop assistants or office workers and were much happier to work in the country than be shut up in a factory. I was sent to Ewerby, near Sleaford in Lincolnshire and it was the first time I had been away from home in my life!
There was no bus into the village so I was met to continue the three miles or so and I imagined that another land army girl would meet me but I was in for a surprise. A real country chappie with horse and dray helped me up onto one side of the dray and off we went. As we passed the field the gang working on the threshing machine all waved and shouted “hello”…everyone seemed so friendly.
Ewerby was a pretty village and the big manor house was where one of the foremen lived with his wife and his son in one half of the building and the six land army girls lived in the other half. All the girls shared an extra large bedroom which housed six camp beds and three chests of drawers for all to share. The foreman’s wife cleaned and cooked for us and would shout for us when the evening meal was ready. We had the big room beneath for meals and relaxation. My first cooked meal I couldn’t finish half of it, it was such a plate full but the next day was a different story. After working hard all the day – well, I ate everything that was served!
My first job was with the thresher that I had seen coming in. Men were forking the bales up, some men on top to catch them and then another putting them into the machine. The co
