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George Spenceley recalls his memories of training to be a farmer in Yorkshire in the 1940's.
After the first two weeks of initial farm training we were each allotted to a farm to work. The farmer had to give the lad or lads that worked for him pocket money, two or three shillings (20p or 30p) a week.
This helped a great deal for I could now afford to go into Hornsea. The farm that I and another lad were sent too was a mixed farm and it did a little bit of everything.
They had cattle for beef and for milking and also grew cereal for feed and the market. Also working on the farm and in charge of us lads was a worker from War-rag. He was supposed to keep an eye on us young ones but for some reason he took an instant dislike to me.
I had to remove manure from the farmyard to a nearby field then stack it in a tidy heap. This chap drove the tractor and cart, he'd never allow me to ride on the vehicle and took great pleasure in goading me.
As soon as I had the manure stacked he would push it over for me to rebuild. I know that sounds silly now, but as a young lad, I felt I was being insulted by this bully. As soon as I rebuilt the stack of manure he'd come along with the other lad and laugh and joke at my expense.
I soon found that my patience was wearing thin and after the third time of rebuilding the manure stack I turned on him and said, 'No, rebuild it yourself'.
His response was to order me to rebuild the stack again but I replied by raising my fork and pointing it at him. He threatened me with a good hiding but I held on to the fork and he could see that I didn't intend to back down. I meant business.
Someone was going to get hurt and it could quite possibly be him. At that he turned away, picked up his fork and said to the other lad who was looking very frightened, 'come on you, you lazy......... Help me to build this heap of...........'.
When he'd finished he apologized to me knowing that I could have reported him. He asked me not to say anything about what had happened. Although I accepted his apology I could never trust him or make a friend of him and for the rest of that day he was most helpful.
I don't know whether the other lad had told anyone back at the hostel or whether someone had been watching us but the next day I was asked to do the chores around the farm buildings.
I helped the farmer's wife to hang a very large carpet on to the clothesline and beat the dust from it and then I cut the lawns. There was no sign of the chap from War-rag.
George Spenceley, 2002
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