Recently, the overdue formal recognition of the vital and important part played during the Second World War by the women's Land Army, brought back happy childhood memories to me.
As one of my two sisters had married, and the other joined the ATS, my parents had room to accommodate two lovely Land Army girls, both in their early 20s – Dolly from Sussex and Rosie, a Londoner from Walthamstowe.
They were working for the Fores
try Commission and on a Saturday morning it was my treat to ride with them on the back of the lorry which transported us to a wood near Essendine.
There, in a clearing they made a fire, and while they felled trees, I made the toast for their break, trying not to notice the dead crows strung up from the trees!
These were dark war-time days of shortage and worry, but everybody helped each other, growing and sharing vegetables.
The bomb/land mine which fell at the top of our street left us without windows for weeks, but stealing was unheard of.
It was Dolly who taught me to knit; perhaps it took her mind off the fact that her husband, Harry (stationed at a camp up the A1) was a paratrooper, eventually to go (and return) from Arnhem.
Sometimes my parents would allow him to stay the night, and my father lent him his bicycle, to get to Red Lion Square in the very early morning to be picked up!
I gather the policeman usually queried the bike's ownership, and it was duly returned to my father the next day.
SHEILA BLANKLEY
Arran Road,
Stamford
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