91Čȱ¬

In 1942 we had a ā€˜lease lendā€™ combine harvester (from America) so Geoff did some of the harvest with that, while Fred Banks and I continued with our dear old binder. We used to have the help of soldiers in the evenings, picking up sheaves. The general feeling of ā€˜funā€™ and banter between us all was so different from the solitary work of the combine which gradually took over and only required two people. The acreage of the farm increased during the war from 250 to 540 so there was a great deal more corn to grow and harvest. My jobs were many and varied; apart from regular milking and dairy work I was often the stooge on the seat of the corn drill (and a bumpy ride that could be too, I fell off more than once when the tractor driver turned at the end of the drills!).
I drove the tractor a good many miles over the years, rolling grass and corn and haymaking (which was a highly satisfying job for some reason). A very trying job was driving the tractor slowly between rows of mangolds etc with Frank Rowe walking behind steering the hoe. It was very difficult not to drop off to sleep after dinner and Frankā€™s language was often unrepeatable as I steered out of the lines!! Geoff didnā€™t have a lot of time off and when we went to but my engagement ring we had to finish all the drilling first, so it was early in December 1942 that we had a day off and met Daddy for lunch out and he put us in touch with a jeweller friend from whom we bought the ring ā€“ a very nice emerald.

All through the war Geoff was a member of the 91Čȱ¬ Guard ā€“ Dadā€™ Army! ā€“ along with his father and all the men on the farm. They had some pretty hilarious times and it was quite true that they didnā€™t have uniforms or weapons to start with (and when they did get uniforms, they fitted where they touched!) At one stage Geoff was in charge of a ā€˜Smith Gunā€™ which was a deadly contraption which they towed on the back of the old Ford car and was reputed to be more dangerous to the gun crew who fired it than the enemy!! It looked as though if you needed to use it it would have blown everything up!! They had hardly any ammunition and only fired it once or twice in practice. But they were there and on duty at nights guarding railways and gasworks and such like ā€“ and drinking cocoa of course! I was an Air Raid Precaution - ARP ā€“ messenger which entitled me to a tin hat, a small bicycle allowance, an arm band, and of course an extra bit on my identity card stating the fact! I was only called out once or twice during the raids so it wasnā€™t a very arduous job!
My father-in-law was having two cottages built (it was allowed for agricultural purposes). One was to be for us, and so we started trying to get things together for our home. It wasnā€™t easy, so many things were hard to come by or impossible to get. If it hadnā€™t been for my father I donā€™t know how we should have managed. He got us enough ā€œshipā€™s Linoā€ to do the ground floor and also a dinner service (white, but at least plates etc which after all were essential!) We had to pay most exorbitant prices for any second hand furniture as it was so much in demand. New furniture was only obtainable on coupons and all we had enough for was a kitchen table, a dining table and four chairs (which we still use today ā€“ and are still in good condition!) Curtains we didnā€™t have to start with as all we could get with our coupons was enough blackout material to cover the windows. Pots and pans etc we had to search in the shops for, but we managed eventually to get bits and pieces together. All this time of course food was rationed, but working on the land we got extra in the way of cheese, tae and sugar, and some very doubtful pies ā€“ called Agricultural Pies ā€“ which were distributed on Thursdays in the village. We never suffered any ill effects from these pies, but I dread to think now what might have been in them!! We were only too glad to have them. I remember we tried whale meat, but only once because it was so disgusting. It didnā€™t taste of meat or fish, something in between!! The Womenā€™sā€™ Institute and organisation very aware of the needs of land workers bullied the government into arranging the extra rations - but we didnā€™t get extra bread.
Killing the pig!
We were allowed to kill one pig a year for our own use. In those days an old man used to come to the farm and just cut its throat and then hang it up to bleed. The pig used to be scalded to get all the hair off. My mother-in-law used to make brawn from the head, trotters and ā€¦ the pigs liver straight from the pig was absolutely beautiful!! We shared the pig with the family. Joints were salted to keep them fresh. Lovely bacon. The worse part was melting the lard down ā€“ made beautiful pastry ā€“ but the smell of the lard was disgusting!
Lambs tail pie. Not much meat in this, but it filled a gap when we were hungry. Does anyone have the recipe?

The farm went on as usual and we got married in February 1944. I had a crushed raspberry coloured dress ā€“ and not enough coupons for a coat that would match and I remember going away in a dreadful green coat ā€“ the colours would horrify a modern bride!! We went to Exeter for our first night and then on to Geoffā€™s Aunt in Exmouth and on to Bath to my grandfather. The back to Blendworth and work! I stayed at the farm for several weeks as the cottage wasnā€™t quite ready and we had to wait ages for the gas cooker to arrive and be fitted, but we eventually moved in and as I was pregnant by then I only helped with morning milking.
And so 1944 went by with the invasion in the summer, and me learning to be a housewife. In November, Richard was born. In those days it was Ā£7 a week for a private nursing home. He was a very good baby ā€“ at night anyway ā€“ and we never had a sleepless night with him, which is more than can be said for the other four children!!
In July 1945, VE day at last! Geoff was having a holiday and we were due to go to Shoreham by train to see his grandmother. Of course we shouldnā€™t have gone on that day ā€“ but we did! The train was crowded with drunken sailors! Richard was 8 months old and the focus of attention from all the lads in our carriage.
And that was my war really! Rationing got tighter and tighter for a while but we were quite good at making do and inventing odd recipes. My mother used to re-make old skirts etc into dungarees for Richard and Michael ā€“ Maryā€™s son. Nappies were hard to come by, but we managed. Itā€™s surprising looking back now how well we did cope and I expect if all our youngsters had to make do as we did they would manage excellently well too!!

A cave was dug in Portsdown Hill where evacuees were accommodated. This is the hill just to the north of Portsmouth.

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