We could see the disease creeping nearer as each farm succumbed. It started at the head of the valley where rumour fed on rumour concerning some sheep bought from a concerning part of the country that had connections with foot and mouth and were moved to gain from this areas close proximity to Birmingham and the need there for cheap mutton at that time of year.
So all stock from one farm after another, down the valley, at eight day intervals, was slaughtered and burned. We could smell the smoke, and a trip to Bromyard necessitated running the gauntlet of these pyres. And then my neighbour’s cattle became ill and we waited with baited breath! 
 On the 5^th day, a Sunday, a ministry  vet rang at just after 1 o’clock to ask my comments on the possible cull of my cattle as a contiguous cull. I said I would take his advise but was fully aware that if I my cattle got this awful disease, then my next door neighbour would also be culled, and he had, and still has, a wonderful herd of pedigree Herefords. Greatly prized.
I had a small young herd of beef shorthorn cows that were in the middle of calving and we now had eleven beautiful calves, having spent the whole morning calving one heifer. She was so pleased and proud of her new calf, a little bull, and couldn’t leave it alone
The vet rang to say that the slaughterers would come in the morning! What could I say – I felt it was the right thing to do in the circumstances, and i probably had no real choice, but was so sorry for all these young animals. I think all livestock farmers at that time felt very isolated and fearful. The government in London seemed to have no idea what to do except kill every thing, and little practical advise. Only interested in covering there own backs and saving money by delaying culls of actual outbreaks, allowing further spread.

Monday dawned and along came the flotilla of men. I wasn’t allowed to stay and watch the rifleman at work, but apparently, the vet pushes all the cattle into one pen and there is a lot of bellowing as each mother tries to find her calf. Then he starts, and when the first cow is shot all the others turn round to face the man in surprise, so his job is easy and there is sudden total silence except for the sound of each cow or calf as she falls, and the crack of the rifle. He did a good job!  Each one had a neat bullet hole through the forehead. Even the newest arrival and his mother, and I know it sounds melodramatic, but as my neighbour, whose cattle were also culled, said,  ‘I lost many friends today.’
I saw the people off the farm after they had  issued  me with lots of enforcement notices, and the slaughter man left me a spent cartridge case, which I still sits in front of me on my desk. I suppose rather a grim reminder. Maybe it should go !

 I felt  numb, and it has to be said rather guilty that I had not somehow prevented this catastrophe from afflicting my herd. When you buy and own living animals all farmers have an unwritten code and agreement with the animals that says, we will protect, feed and nurture you to the best of our ability. And the cattle agree to provide you with your livelihood. I felt that I had failed them.
I went in the house to sit quietly.  I think I was in shock.

 I turned on the radio and Barber’s  ’adagio for strings’ was playing.  Very beautiful music, but so sad. It rounded off a terrible day, and due to the Governments ineptitude things got no better for many a month.
 
 
 
 
           

Foot and Mouth 1967

 
Foot and mouth seems to have been an ever present sore all my farming life. It started way back in 1967 when I was at Walford Agricultural College.  All the new students arrived in late September for the start of the term and we had all just about started to settle down and enjoy all that was on offer with a year away from home, when down came foot and mouth. To say it drastically restricted our social life would be an understatement.

 
Walford student’s life was spread between Radbrook ladies teacher training college, Oswestry nurse training college and one or two other fun places. And then you come to the pubs in Shrewsbury. All of that was gone when the college was surrounded by foot  & mouth. All surrounding farms were culled due to the disease, but somehow the college stock escaped the disease.  Extraordinary, especially when you consider that one or two people  could not contain their amorous tendencies and absconded for the occasional evening. If found out it was instant expulsion.

 
When the outbreak calmed down, it was time for exams and the end of the year.

 
And then came 2001 !

August 6^th 1982

 
Heavy rain and thunder last night causing another No6 wire to break in the hop yard. The hopyard is like a giant cats cradle. Heavy gauge wires stretch  across the  area of hop roots at a height of 16 feet, held up by a succession of straight pine or chestnut poles. Across and at right angles to this wire is stretched the No 6 wire onto which is hooked the string which acts as a climbing aid for the hop shoots.

 
The problems start when, as the wire starts to degrade due in part to the chemicals that are forever around hops to control the many diseases and pests, after heavy rain or wind the wires break one by one until the complete unit collapses. This is a disaster and involves rapid repairs in all weathers and at any time of day or night.  

 
I’m afraid if this  wet and windy weather keeps up, I have many wet hours to spend and many sleepless nights until the crop is harvested. I sometimes wonder why I bother – there must be an easier way to make a living.

 
Like growing cereals for instance. Sold a 25 tonne load of this years winter  barley which yielded about 2.5 tonne per acre for animal feed. Selling at £100 per ton and a  load of hay for 75p per bale, helps to ease the cash flow at this most important time of year. The whole farming year hinges on the performance of the harvested crops over the next month. So it’s exciting and worrying all at the same time.