by Dee Yates
*
After the rain of the last few days, it was good to see the sun. Jeannie tried to put her worry about Tam's possible call-up to the back of her mind and stood watching as Rob guided the tractor down one long side of the field. Corn stalks tumbled to the ground. Neil showed her how to bundle the stalks into sheaves and tie them securely. Then he showed her how to arrange them into stooks, six or eight sheaves to each stook, so they stood firm against the wind that blew night and day through the valley, but not too tight so that air could circulate and dry the corn. He made it look easy, but she soon discovered how difficult it was. By the end of the first day, her arms were scratched and bleeding from the coarse straw.
‘Seeing that friend of yours this week?’ Neil said when they were returning to their labours after a break for dinner.
‘I don’t know. Everyone has extra to do, it seems, now that war is here. Well, it isn’t exactly here,’ she said, gazing at the partly shorn field, ‘but it looks as though it soon will be.’
Neil opened his mouth to say something in reply when the sound of a car engine made them both look up. A van was coming slowly down the farm track, swaying to and fro as it encountered the ruts made by the tractor. It approached the farmhouse and the driver applied the brakes. It was a woman who swung open the door and stepped down. From within the van came the sound of squabbling.
‘Can I help you?’ Neil began. ‘This is a dead end. You must have lost your way.’
The woman reached into the van and produced a wad of paper. ‘This is Blackford Farm?’
‘Aye.’
‘Then I haven’t lost my way.’ The speaker brushed back unruly hair, fast escaping from a bun, and opened the van door again. ‘This is my last delivery… evacuees from Glasgow. A mother and her three children - Ian, Malcolm and wee Effie.’
A thin-faced woman stepped down from the van, carrying a baby and followed by two lads, who took off in glee towards the tractor, now making slow progress down the field towards where the group were gathered.
‘This must be a mistake,’ Neil began. ‘We’ve not agreed to have any evacuees here. There’s no room. We’ve already got one extra.’ He indicated Jeannie. ‘We can’t possibly have any more.’
‘I’m sorry, but these are my orders. Everyone else has families too, it’s not just yourselves. These are the last today, but there will be others and no mistake. Now, let me get their case from the boot.’
Rob had stopped the tractor at the approach of the two young brothers. He climbed down and walked over to the farmyard. ‘What’s happening here then?’
‘It seems as though we are having even more guests, Dad. Did you know anything about this?’
‘Of course not, pal. I can’t say I’m surprised though. The poor blighters have got to go somewhere, if their homes are going to be bombed, which is what people are saying will happen.’ He turned to the young mother who looked ready to drop. ‘You’d better come in, hen, and Agnes will put the kettle on. Jeannie, round up those boys, will you, and bring them indoors. I don’t want them near the farm equipment.’ The woman and her baby followed Rob into the house, leaving Neil standing in disbelief in the middle of the yard.
*
Agnes turned to Jeannie when she entered the kitchen an hour later with the two boys. They had been exploring every nook and cranny of the farmyard and it had taken all the land girl’s energy and resourcefulness to keep them safe
‘We were just saying, Jeannie… Alice here and her children will have to take over your room. There’s nowhere else to put them that’s big enough. We’ll move your things to the wee room at the back of the house.’
Jeannie’s heart fell. There, she would be in the next room to Neil, but there was no other way. She would have to make the best of it. ‘That’s fine,’ she replied, forcing a smile.
‘Alice here lives in Glasgow,’ Rob explained. ‘You were staying in Glasgow, weren’t you, Jeannie?’
‘Well, on the outskirts – Partick.’
‘Och aye, it’s nice round there. Clydebank, that’s where we’re from. My man works in the shipyards. We moved into one of the tenement buildings in the town when we were wed. They were built for the shipyard workers, ken. But now the authorities have decided they’re moving out all of the schoolchildren because of the war. Some children are going on their own, but I’ve come too because of the wean.’ She glanced down at her sleeping baby. ‘I’m hoping it will only be for a few days. I’ve never been away from home before.’ She looked out of the window fearfully and shook her head. ‘There’s so much countryside here, I’m afraid of getting lost.’
‘I thought that too, when I first arrived,’ Jeannie said in all seriousness, ‘but I love it now. I know Clydebank – I used to work in the library there.’
‘So how long have you been here?’
‘Nearly a month.’ They all laughed.
‘Och, Jeannie’s not slow at making friends, are you, hen?’ Rob joked.
‘What will happen about the boys going to school?’ It was Neil, who had come silently into the room and was watching the two lads making short work of a tin of home-made biscuits.
‘The government woman told us that they’re to go to the local school on Monday morning,’ their mother replied. ‘I hope it’s near. The boys’ school is at the end of the street, ken. The weans who go there all live nearby. It’s friendly. Everyone knows everyone else.’
‘Well, it’ll no’ be so near as you’re used to,’ Agnes smiled. It’s a couple of miles away. But it’ll be friendly.’
‘A couple of miles!’ Alice echoed. ‘How am I meant to walk that far… and with the wean to see to?’
‘You’ll get used to it soon enough, hen,’ Rob laughed. ‘And Jeannie here, she’s a good walker. When she’s finished her jobs for us, perhaps we can loan her to you!’
21. War
September 1939
It was the talk of the sheep market that first Monday in September. The threat of war, like thunderclouds on the horizon, had suddenly become a reality. Hitler had ignored Britain and France’s ultimatum, so the two allies had declared war on Germany. The storm had finally broken.
Everywhere that Tam went, the conversation was on one topic only. Opinions were divided about how much, if at all, it would affect the farming community and how long it was likely to last. The younger men were optimistic about both its duration and its outcome, but the older generation of farmers, who remembered the idealism that had accompanied the outbreak of ‘the war to end all wars’, thought their own thoughts and kept silent.
Farmers scanned the market in an effort to see who was missing. Uncertainty was uppermost. Who, if any, of the farm workers would be called up? Who may already be absent? They had been told that farming was a reserved occupation; the country would not make the mistakes of the last war when supplies ran low and there were not enough men to farm the land. But how far did this extend to sons of farmers? And what of agricultural labourers, many of whom had already been made to undergo six months’ training?
The business of the day had been completed. Tam had sold another six ewes for a good price and he was about to haul himself into the trailer to begin his journey home when a voice hailed him. Looking round, he saw Neil Cunningham. He waited, an uneasy smile playing across his face. Was Neil merely planning to pass the time of day? Unlikely. He had never been particularly friendly, even before Jeannie’s arrival. Maybe he carried a message from Jeannie. To be sure, something had happened to prevent their meeting the previous week. Maybe she was unwell. He frowned as Neil approached.
‘How’re you doing, Tam? What do you think of the news then?’
‘It’s terrible. Let’s hope it’s over soon.’
‘That’s you away to sign up then?’
‘Me? What gave you that idea? You ken well that we’re in a reserved occupation.’
‘Aye. I ken. But there’s that brother of yours to help your father. How many of you does it take to run a sheep farm? There�
�s only my father and me and we manage fine, so we do.’
Leaving the horse and trailer, Tam strode over to Neil. His face had darkened. ‘If you manage so fine, then why have you got yourselves a land girl?’
‘A land girl whose attractions are stopping you seeing where your duty lies.’ Neil gave Tam a scornful look and turned away to find his own conveyance. The next moment, a heavy hand on his shoulder pulled him round to face the younger man. Before he had time to gather his thoughts and dodge the blow, Tam had delivered a punch to Neil’s jaw that sent him sprawling in the mud. Dragging him to his feet, Tam brought his face close to Neil’s.
‘Don’t you presume to lecture me on where my duty lies. All my life I’ve done nothing but be a dutiful son.’ He brought his fist back, as though to deliver another punch, but an older farmer with a face as gnarled and weather-beaten as the oaks in the old village graveyard stepped up and caught his hand.
‘That’s enough, pal. It’s no’ the day for fighting amongst ourselves. There’s more than enough planned for the other side of the English Channel. We here need to pull together, no’ the opposite. Away now to your homes, the pair of you.’
Tam shook himself free of the older man’s grasp. With a final glower at Neil, he turned away from the interested crowd of onlookers and swung himself up into the seat of his trailer.
*
They had finished dinner and were having a cup of tea when Neil threw open the kitchen door and came into the room. He nodded to his father but said nothing.
‘How did it go, son?’
‘Well enough. They went for a fair price. Everyone was more occupied with talking about the war than selling their beasts.’ He glanced at Jeannie and away.
‘What’s that bruising on your chin, Neil? You’ve no’ been fighting, have you?’
‘I’ve no’ been fighting.’ He glanced at Jeannie again. ‘It’s that no-good lad of Douglas McColl’s that’s been attacking me. I only asked him if he was joining up, seeing as they’ve got his older brother there to stay and look after the farm. He seemed to think I should be minding my own business.’ Neil saw a look of dismay cross their land girl’s face and for a moment felt ashamed of his outburst. He looked away and surveyed the orderly kitchen. He had noticed the sleeping baby in the pram outside in the yard, but her two older brothers were nowhere to be seen. ‘Where’s the weans? You haven’t put them out to work, have you?’
‘Och no. Alice took them along to the school, didn’t you, lass?’ Rob Cunningham said cheerfully.
The children’s mother put down her cup with a bleak smile. ‘Aye, they’re in school the noo. Though I don’t know how long I’ll manage to walk all that way with them. It’s a gey long way to get there and no doubt it’ll be even longer this afternoon.’
‘Me and my sister, we used to walk on our own.’
Alice looked askance at Neil’s comment. ‘I cannae let them go wandering over these hills. I’ll never see them again.’
‘I only let you go alone once you were big enough to do it,’ Agnes interrupted, ‘and I came to meet you if night was coming on. Dinnae worry, lass. They’ll soon get to know the way. And there’ll be other children making the journey too.’
‘Well, they’re saying in the market that this war won’t last long and then everyone will go back to where they belong,’ Neil said decisively and he sat down at the table and watched his mother lift his dinner out of the oven, where it had been keeping warm. Rob eyed his son doubtfully but said nothing.
*
‘So now there’s me and four others all staying with Mr and Mrs Cunningham. It’s quite jolly!’ Jeannie said to Tam later that week.
‘It’s a good job they’ve got you to help. How are Rob and Agnes managing?’
‘Oh, I think they are quite liking it. Agnes misses her daughter, so it’s nice for her having a mum and baby around. I’m not so sure about Alice. She says she misses her fish suppers! She’s enrolled the boys at school, though none of them, including their mum, seem too keen on the arrangement. And when they’re not at school, they just enjoy getting in a mess on the farm. The only one who doesn’t seem pleased with the arrangement is Neil.’
‘That doesn’t surprise me at all. He’s on at me to do my duty, but he never seems happy doing his.’ Tam had saved her the task of raising the topic that had been on her mind since the previous weekend’s announcement.
‘You mean he thinks you should enlist.’
‘Aye. I probably should, but it’s hard for my dad, there being no woman in the house… well, only Annie in the mornings to clear up and cook dinner. Though I may have no choice anyway. I’ll wait and see what the powers that be decide. It’s no business of Neil Cunningham’s anyway.’
‘Is that really what you were fighting about?’
‘Oh, you knew about that, did you?’
‘It was impossible to avoid. He has quite a bruise on his chin.’
‘Serves him right. He was the one who was giving me a row anyway.’
Jeannie hid a smile, recalling just such words between her brothers when they were growing up, though it never came to blows or her father would soon have put a stop to it.
Tam had called for Jeannie, just a couple of days after war had been declared. Nights were drawing in now and there was no opportunity for a stroll in the woods after work. They took a footpath up the hill behind Rob’s farm. Twilight was gathering around the farm, but as they climbed, the remains of the sunset were still silvering the horizon.
‘Anyway,’ Tam went on, ‘what about you? Plenty of work for the land girl?’
‘We’ve started harvesting. Neil’s been on the tractor most of the time and I’ve been making the sheaves up into stooks. “Eight sheaves make one stook,”’ she quoted with a smile. ‘Mr Cunningham’s brought Rosie out to work her. He reckons she’s as good as any tractor and doesn’t need filling up so often! Petrol’s being rationed, he says, so the horse will be put into use a lot more in the future. Neil’s not too pleased about that… says it’s a backward step and that the tractor’s much quicker. I’ll tell you something… it’s back-breaking work for me, whichever they use! Mind you, I got my reward when we finished. Mr Cunningham helped me climb up onto Rosie’s back and I rode home in style.’ She laughed delightedly. ‘A couple of weeks ago the thought of doing that would have had me running back to the city in a flash! But she’s a big softie. She wouldn’t hurt a flea.’
‘There’s no part of farm work that’s easy,’ Tam said thoughtfully. ‘You’ll find that out soon enough. You know that after the corn harvest there’ll be potatoes and turnips to come?’
‘Is it the same at your farm, Tam?’
‘No, not at all. The land is too rough for anything but sheep. We grow a few tatties and turnips in the back garden, ken, but nothing on a larger scale. We’ve plenty of sheep though, getting on for one and a half thousand.’ He paused and took a breath to continue. Then, as though thinking better of it, he shut his mouth again.
‘I’d like to see your farm, Tam,’ Jeannie said, guessing his thoughts. ‘Will you take me sometime?’
22. Howking and Shawing
October 1939
Jeannie straightened up and pushed her hands into her aching back. Arranging sheaves of corn into stooks had been hard work, but lifting potatoes out of the tumbled earth in the drill was back-breaking. ‘Tatty howking’ they called it in these parts. Fancy names or not, it all used a lot of energy. Added to that, October brought a change in the weather and the cold bit at her fingers and toes as she made her slow progress down the field.
For all that, it was good fun, for everyone who could was encouraged to help with the task. Agnes Cunningham had been out there in between preparing food for the workers. Alice, grumbling at the weather and the mud, lent a hand while the baby was sleeping. Ian and Malcolm had been kept off school for two days to help.
It was Rosie who was doing the hardest work. Up and down the field she plodded, straight and steady, knowing ex
actly when to turn so that the ground was tumbled evenly and the harvester didn’t get snagged in the hedgerow at the side of the field. Even Neil had to admit that she was better than the tractor for potato harvesting – uncomplaining, cheaper on fuel and much less likely to get bogged down in the mud.
Jeannie had been working since half past seven, as soon as it had been light enough to see what they were doing, and Rosie had been harnessed up ready for action. Before that she had done the morning milking. Robert tuned in to the early weather forecast and was pleased with what he heard. The children joined them after eating the breakfast that Agnes had prepared for the evacuee family, and Ian and Malcolm each took a basket. They ran backwards and forwards behind Rosie, shouting in excitement as the creamy potatoes were unearthed. Their harvesting was haphazard, leaving much of the crop for Jeannie to gather. With their baskets half-full, they raced across to a huge pit at the side of the field where the majority of the crop was stored in straw until time came for it to be used or transported.
Jeannie looked towards the farmhouse. Agnes was shouting her name and calling that dinner was ready. She called the boys and alerted the men and they all set off to the kitchen to eat. The break was good but passed too quickly and in no time at all they were returning to the field, Rob anxious for them to make the most of the sunshine. To Jeannie it seemed that everything that happened on the farm was at the mercy of the weather. But the sunshine was certainly something for which to be grateful.
*
November brought the first hard frosts of the season.
Jeannie woke suddenly from a comfortable dream and reached out her hand clumsily to switch off the alarm clock. She searched around for the matches and lit the candle left ready on the bedside table. Then, shivering, she sank back onto the pillow and pulled the covers up under her chin. The temptation was great to close her eyes and sleep again. She felt herself drifting, but then with a start she blinked awake and sat up suddenly, swinging her legs out of bed onto the floor. This would never do. The cows needed to be milked and fed before breakfast and her stomach was already beginning to rumble. Shivering, she pulled her dressing gown roughly over her shoulders and made her way to the window.
