Liberated Thatchers

As we all gained experience in the Land Army, we were asked if any of us would like to be thatchers, which drew a quick response from me, as I saw it as a real challenge and an art. So when I was proficient enough, I was sent to different farms to “do my stuff”.

On one particular farm, we were close to the village and the weather was very warm, so we used to eat our sandwiches and then go down to the local inn for a shandy. On one occasion one of the gentry was there and asked us where we were working, and he was surprised, as it was his place. “What are you doing there?” he asked.
“Thatching” I replied.
Well, what a din! All the old boys in the pub were laughing their heads off; even he laughed.
We said, “What’s so funny?” which made them laugh louder, and we heard them saying, “Women thatchers — never!”
Anyway, the Colonel said to us, “If what you say is true, I’ll buy you all a shandy tomorrow. I’ll be riding that way tomorrow morning.”

Of course, the next day he arrived on horseback and just stared in amazement. “By gad,” he said, “By gad! I’ll see you at the inn at 12.30, and buy you the shandies.”
All went quiet when we walked in, and the old men had their eyes on the Colonel, who said, “Three shandies for the girls.”
They couldn’t believe it.
“It’s true, everybody, it’s true!” said the Colonel.

Next day, whilst I was up the ladder, I could see funny glints shining in the hedge across the field, and it was binoculars peering at us. The oldies had come to see for themselves.

It was a great life, hard work but enjoyable, and I never wanted city life again.

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