Dark Harvest
“And you. And you!’ Caroline hoed vigorously round the barley crop at Owler’s Farm. If she convinced herself each jab was a jab at His German Imperial Majesty, she would truly be contributing towards the war effort. She hadn’t expected to be wielding a hoe herself, but when Mrs Lake broke her arm after slipping on muck in the yard, there had been an emergency call from her husband, incapacitated himself after losing an arm at Ypres in November. She had welcomed it, because Farmer Lake had at fir...st been a die-hard, telling her they could manage without a pack of women squawking around, thank you very much, Miss Lilley. But now here she was, advancing hoe in hand to defeat the enemy. And enjoying it, tiring though it was.
So far her scheme was working reasonably well, with a few hiccoughs as one or two women tired of the hard labour. She had heard whispers about the better pay at Swinford-Browne’s munitions factory, and there were always more volunteers for sowing and picking than for weeding.MoreLess
So far her scheme was working reasonably well, with a few hiccoughs as one or two women tired of the hard labour. She had heard whispers about the better pay at Swinford-Browne’s munitions factory, and there were always more volunteers for sowing and picking than for weeding.MoreLess
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