Land Girls, War, and Wine

“Grandma!” Charlotte greets me with a quick excited embrace, she’s been raving about graduation for months.

“Congratulations sweet pea” I say as her mother and father appear through the crowd beside us.

“Honey, go find your friends, we’re going show grandma where our seats are” Marie gives me a smile “Mom, you made it! Follow me I’ll show you where we’re sitting. Things sure are different since you were that age huh?” I follow her through the crowd as I think about her question, it really was a lifetime ago.

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It’s June 27th 1941. I’ve been on the farm for about 13 months. It’s quite the adjustment from city life. With Dad and John off to war I needed to do something and the Women’s Land Army seemed like a honourable idea to keep my mind and my hands busy. I was starting to get into a routine now and making friends with the other women. It’s a good distraction as we all have loved ones fighting in the war. Plus we’re providing a service to keep our country fed during a recession. We all have a job to do, mine was to milk and care for the cattle, muck the stalls, count out rations, and we all rotate house chores each week. This week I was on laundry duty.

I hear sobbing from a few stalls over, it’s Vivian. She got a letter from her sister last night that her father had been killed by a land mine. She was insistent on not taking the day to mourn, my heart aches for her, she’s been here a little longer than I have but we’re the youngest of the group. Both of us just eighteen and trying our best to make ends meet and send back money for our families in the city.

I brought a couple bottles of wine with me from home to celebrate when the war is over. But with Vivian’s news and spirits being drastically low I figure we could all use a little fun. After dark I go get the girls. Me, Vivian, Betty, and Eleanor sneak out to the barn. The older woman wouldn’t approve, they turn in early most nights. But we need a little fun. There’s a sort of peace in the barn. We climb up to the hay covered rafters where to barn cats like the hide and hunt sparrows and mice. We sip our wine and chat.

“I bet there’s no ad for WLA with a bunch of women in a barn rafter drinking wine” Eleanor exclaims

We all giggle, picturing a flyer of us dancing in a rattled old barn holding a bottle of wine.

“What was the first one you saw? I remember seeing a beautiful woman with a saddle horse by her side. She looked so happy!” Said Vivian

“All I remember is mother reading us the application to enlist in the paper” Replied Betty.

Reminiscing about our journeys to the WLA, sharing stories and laughs, getting bubbly from the wine. We danced and played with the kittens, finally feeling a bit of joy for the first time in a long time. Eventually we headed off to bed in the early hours of the morning, not that we would get much rest, there was work to be done soon and the other woman would have no pity on us for staying up. But it was worth it, and though we were going to be exhausted, the dreams of a more certain time would keep us smiling at each other in passing for days.

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We leave the stadium, excited chatter all about. It’s like a zoo. I pull Charolette aside, I’ve always had a special bond with my granddaughter that I never had with my children. “Sweet pea, I’m so proud of you. I want you to cherish these moments with you friends. You’ll look back on this later in life when your a old woman like me and smile at the memories!” I hand her a few crumpled up dollar bills and a bottle of wine I snuck into my purse. “Go have fun! Your grandma needs to go home and rest her old bones.” There’s been so much excitement today.

Her eyes light up and she gives me one more farewell hug and a kiss on the cheek “Thank you grandma, I love you.”