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Summer of '59
Clive Banks October 2015 Here Comes Summer It was the school summer holiday of 1959. I was 17 years old. Buddy Holly had died but rock 'n' roll was still with us and it was good to be alive. That summer turned out to be one of the sunniest on record. I made the very good decision to spend the holiday at Slades Farm, Box, which was run by my uncle, Peter Ody. All photographs courtesy Clive Banks Right: At the old Box Tennis Club next to the Post Office, believed to be Left to Right: Sandra Ford, Elizabeth Ford, Mel Bush, Gordon Hall, unknown, Rodney Brickell and Clive Banks. |
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Dig That! (Press Start button below to enjoy the music)
The first job I was given was quite a tough one. A large area of roadside banking had to be cleared to allow a combine harvester to go through a field gate. My colleagues in this task were Pete Best and Trevor Dunn, who were both very fit and powerfully built. I was rather a skinny youth. However I threw myself into it as hard as I could and I hope won a bit of respect for my efforts. Anyway they were very nice to me. Things could be a bit confusing as nearly everybody working on the farm was called Pete. There was Pete Ody, Pete Best and Pete Short.
The first job I was given was quite a tough one. A large area of roadside banking had to be cleared to allow a combine harvester to go through a field gate. My colleagues in this task were Pete Best and Trevor Dunn, who were both very fit and powerfully built. I was rather a skinny youth. However I threw myself into it as hard as I could and I hope won a bit of respect for my efforts. Anyway they were very nice to me. Things could be a bit confusing as nearly everybody working on the farm was called Pete. There was Pete Ody, Pete Best and Pete Short.
I turned up each morning at about 9am and was constantly reminded that my colleagues had already been at work for hours. I think that I was given some of the jobs which had been neglected and no one wanted to do. One of these was cleaning out the chicken huts. This was very unpleasant, working in a confined space, choking on dusty chicken droppings and removing the odd rotting carcase.
Another more pleasant job I recall was cutting back hedges by hand. The work was generally very physical and I could feel myself getting fitter and stronger. It also gave me a good appetite. At lunchtime I went back to the farmhouse where my Aunt Jo always prepared a wonderful meal.
At the end of the first week Uncle Pete pressed three pound notes into my hand. I blushed a bit at this as I was not expecting to be paid. I was happy just to enjoy the experience and get a free lunch.
One day I was out in the fields doing some job with Pete Short, the cowman. Uncle Peter Ody had taken the day off to go to the races so Pete Short had taken his gun with him. He confided in me that the boss did not like him using the gun at work so he was taking advantage of his absence. I was sworn to secrecy. This was when I was allowed for the first and only time in my life to fire a gun. I sighted a crow several hundred yards away and pulled the trigger. I must have missed him, but not by much as he flew away in a rather startled manner.
The Round Up
After a while I was trusted to go along to the meadow and fetch the dairy cattle for the evening milking. This was quite an easy task as the cows would come through the gate and make their way along the road and into their individual stalls without any goading. I remember feeling very privileged to be trusted with this.
However another cattle round up was not quite so successful ! Uncle Pete asked me one day to accompany him to Lidbrook Bottom where we were to round up some heifers and transfer them across the road to another field. When we got there Uncle Pete told me the plan. I was to go up to the top of the field where the heifers were and drive them towards the gate. When they came into view he would stand at the gate and call them!
I remember thinking at the time that his plan did not seem to be a good one. These were scatty young cattle not mature dairy cows who were used to being called. Anyway I thought he is the expert; he must know what he is doing so I didn't question it.
When I got to the top of the field I found a mixed group of young cattle including some quite big black ones which didn't look like heifers to me. They seemed reluctant to move so I went up to the biggest black one and tried to persuade him with my stick to move in the right direction. Suddenly he and the majority of the black ones charged down the hill and disappeared into a wooded area by the brook. I decided to cut my losses and drive the remainder down to Pete and deal with the rest later. All was going well; I was driving them steadily until they saw Uncle Pete standing at the gate.
They stopped and looked apprehensive. Then Uncle Pete started to call them, Yip Yip, he went, Yip Yip. At this panic ensued. They turned and charged back towards me in terror and despite my efforts to stop them they peeled off either side of me and ran back to the top of the field.
Uncle Pete and I then consulted and he decided that we would have to undertake Plan B. We would both go to the top of the field and drive them down. When we got there he said, What are these black ones doing here? They are John Goulstone's. There must be a hole in the fence. We eventually managed to separate the black ones from the rest and get his heifers into the right field. I don't know how John Goulstone got his black ones back.
Another more pleasant job I recall was cutting back hedges by hand. The work was generally very physical and I could feel myself getting fitter and stronger. It also gave me a good appetite. At lunchtime I went back to the farmhouse where my Aunt Jo always prepared a wonderful meal.
At the end of the first week Uncle Pete pressed three pound notes into my hand. I blushed a bit at this as I was not expecting to be paid. I was happy just to enjoy the experience and get a free lunch.
One day I was out in the fields doing some job with Pete Short, the cowman. Uncle Peter Ody had taken the day off to go to the races so Pete Short had taken his gun with him. He confided in me that the boss did not like him using the gun at work so he was taking advantage of his absence. I was sworn to secrecy. This was when I was allowed for the first and only time in my life to fire a gun. I sighted a crow several hundred yards away and pulled the trigger. I must have missed him, but not by much as he flew away in a rather startled manner.
The Round Up
After a while I was trusted to go along to the meadow and fetch the dairy cattle for the evening milking. This was quite an easy task as the cows would come through the gate and make their way along the road and into their individual stalls without any goading. I remember feeling very privileged to be trusted with this.
However another cattle round up was not quite so successful ! Uncle Pete asked me one day to accompany him to Lidbrook Bottom where we were to round up some heifers and transfer them across the road to another field. When we got there Uncle Pete told me the plan. I was to go up to the top of the field where the heifers were and drive them towards the gate. When they came into view he would stand at the gate and call them!
I remember thinking at the time that his plan did not seem to be a good one. These were scatty young cattle not mature dairy cows who were used to being called. Anyway I thought he is the expert; he must know what he is doing so I didn't question it.
When I got to the top of the field I found a mixed group of young cattle including some quite big black ones which didn't look like heifers to me. They seemed reluctant to move so I went up to the biggest black one and tried to persuade him with my stick to move in the right direction. Suddenly he and the majority of the black ones charged down the hill and disappeared into a wooded area by the brook. I decided to cut my losses and drive the remainder down to Pete and deal with the rest later. All was going well; I was driving them steadily until they saw Uncle Pete standing at the gate.
They stopped and looked apprehensive. Then Uncle Pete started to call them, Yip Yip, he went, Yip Yip. At this panic ensued. They turned and charged back towards me in terror and despite my efforts to stop them they peeled off either side of me and ran back to the top of the field.
Uncle Pete and I then consulted and he decided that we would have to undertake Plan B. We would both go to the top of the field and drive them down. When we got there he said, What are these black ones doing here? They are John Goulstone's. There must be a hole in the fence. We eventually managed to separate the black ones from the rest and get his heifers into the right field. I don't know how John Goulstone got his black ones back.
Aunt Jo and Uncle Pete Ody possibly at Slades Farm.
Harvest Home
The second half of my period at the farm was mostly involved with the harvest. The job I was given was to stand on a sledge which was towed behind the combine harvester and to stack the straw bales which came from it onto a platform behind me. When a neat tower of several bales was formed I would pull a lever and the bales would slide off onto the field.
This was when I was joined by Aunt Jo's teenage niece Pat, who was lovely and great fun. We had lots of laughs, but having two of us on the sledge did not make for a very efficient combination and the result was a rather untidy field with lots of fallen stacks.
Summertime Blues
When Pat's week was over I was rather sorry and missed her company but it did mean that I was able to concentrate better and managed to stack a whole field perfectly.
This had been a very rewarding holiday. I had acquired £18 in wages, 30 free lunches, some extra muscles and a good sun tan.
I also learned a lot of respect for my colleagues. They did a job which was both skilful and physically demanding, for long hours, with great cheerfulness. I will always be grateful for the summer of '59.
The second half of my period at the farm was mostly involved with the harvest. The job I was given was to stand on a sledge which was towed behind the combine harvester and to stack the straw bales which came from it onto a platform behind me. When a neat tower of several bales was formed I would pull a lever and the bales would slide off onto the field.
This was when I was joined by Aunt Jo's teenage niece Pat, who was lovely and great fun. We had lots of laughs, but having two of us on the sledge did not make for a very efficient combination and the result was a rather untidy field with lots of fallen stacks.
Summertime Blues
When Pat's week was over I was rather sorry and missed her company but it did mean that I was able to concentrate better and managed to stack a whole field perfectly.
This had been a very rewarding holiday. I had acquired £18 in wages, 30 free lunches, some extra muscles and a good sun tan.
I also learned a lot of respect for my colleagues. They did a job which was both skilful and physically demanding, for long hours, with great cheerfulness. I will always be grateful for the summer of '59.
Family Connections
My Gran, Eugenie Sarah Vezey, and Annie Gifford were sisters, part of the big family of Richard Weeks and Emma Gunning.
Jo Ody was Annie's daughter so Jo and my mum, Olive Banks (nee Vezey) were first cousins.
Another sister Polly married Walter Shewring who ran the Northey Arms and whose family are reputed to have buit the premises.
The descendant of another son is rumoured to be Alan Weeks who used to do the ice skating commentaries on TV. Richard Weeks was bailiff to the Walmesley family, the Colerne landowners. He is the man with the big beard in Sports Clubs. At one timeI believe that Richard Weeks lived at The Comrades Club (now Hardy House).
The family of Emma Gunnings ran the Catherine Wheel at Marshfield.
My Gran, Eugenie Sarah Vezey, and Annie Gifford were sisters, part of the big family of Richard Weeks and Emma Gunning.
Jo Ody was Annie's daughter so Jo and my mum, Olive Banks (nee Vezey) were first cousins.
Another sister Polly married Walter Shewring who ran the Northey Arms and whose family are reputed to have buit the premises.
The descendant of another son is rumoured to be Alan Weeks who used to do the ice skating commentaries on TV. Richard Weeks was bailiff to the Walmesley family, the Colerne landowners. He is the man with the big beard in Sports Clubs. At one timeI believe that Richard Weeks lived at The Comrades Club (now Hardy House).
The family of Emma Gunnings ran the Catherine Wheel at Marshfield.