Minnie's 42 answers.

By Williamina (Minnie) CASEBY (nee MACFARLANE), born 26/05/1901.Answers as discussed with, and written by, Ronald (Ronnie) Rodger CASEBY, (BA Hons. OU, DMS, PGCE, etc.,) from early 1994, and constantly updated to 11/04/2001.

INTRODUCTION:

A photograph of Minnie and Ronnie, her youngest son, on Mother's Day in May 1998 in her Rooms at Stonehaven, Scotland. Her favourite picture of her beloved late husband Sandy is just visible by Minnie's left shoulder. The photo was taken by Cyril, another son.

My mother, Williamina (Minnie) CASEBY, (nee MACFARLANE), when aged 98 years was delighted to hear that so many Rootsweb readers enjoyed her "Early Memories" of her childhood in Angus, Scotland. These were published in Rootsweb in Missing Links, Vol. 4, No. 49, and archived at; ftp://ftp.rootsweb.com/pub/mlnews/)

She asked me for a selection of those responses and enjoyed hearing them read to her in early 1999 by Cyril MacFarlane CASEBY, one of her sons who lives in Aberdeen.

The Rootsweb reader's replies, comments, and the questions they contained led to many hours of discussion between Minnie and her fellow residents of Clashfarquhar House, their Church of Scotland Home.

Many Rootsweb readers said in their emails that they would like to hear more about Minnie's life and opinions. Unfortunately, that would be too taxing for Minnie these days.

Minnie suggested instead that you might enjoy other notes I made in discussions with her to date, by expanding on 42 questions she answered in 1994 for the following reason. Before Christmas 1993, Rachel (DIFFLEY), my daughter-in-law who is a school teacher, told me by telephone that her Class "A" had enjoyed reading, hearing read, and studying excerpts from "Going with God", (ISBN 0-86332-859-8), my Biography of the Rev. Alexander CASEBY, my late father.

Rachel told me that the 9 year old female pupils had noted that Minnie featured prominently in everything my father achieved. Therefore, they were surprised that little was said about her in the book. I understood from Rachel that there was a strong interest from the girls about hearing Minnie's own story. Rachel's pupils had devised 42 questions they wanted to ask. The following notes describes the answers compiled from my discussions with Minnie. I suspect that those questions were very similar to the ones that would have been asked, given the chance, by the mainly female Rootsweb readers who replied.

REACTIONS TO 42 QUESTIONS FROM SCHOOL CHILDREN.

Rashly, on my mother's behalf, I offered to accept any questions Rachel's Class "A" had, and to help my mother prepare answers. Minnie was flattered, and I was taken aback, by the depth and breadth of the 42 questions that arrived in late January 1994. Initially, Minnie was daunted by the task. Eventually, after much thought she asked me to help her prepare a reply. As per usual, no sooner had we started on the gigantic task than Minnie became determined to complete it as thoroughly and as quickly as possible.

Her reason for this new enthusiasm was that she was pleased, and flattered, to think that so many young people were interested in her life, beliefs, and thoughts. She said that she had always hoped that her own family would have been thinking about, and asking her such questions whilst she was still alive, and able enough, to answer them. Minnie expressed her sadness that, apart from me, her own children, and their offspring, had asked her so little about herself, or Sandy, when they were young, or their respective ancestors. It also distressed her that her own children asked nothing her about themselves as tiny tots, school children, and teenagers.

I had many long telephone calls with Minnie and also spent several days with her during the Easter-tide of 1994 at her own home, then in Glenrothes, Fife, Scotland. From my copious notes I wrote a draft which Minnie later read and corrected. In all the final task caused me about 200 hours of enjoyable work. I regret none of this time for I came to learn more about my own mother and her views and thus to cherish, admire and adore her even more than I have always done.

Since 1994, I have constantly updated the original notes on the 42 questions to incorporate new facts and information given to me by Minnie during several other long visits. Thus, the answers below are updated to include my knowledge to 25/5/2001.

As the original 42 questions by the school children overlapped in content, and jumped forwards and backwards in time, Minnie’s answers could not be organised in a single logical, or chronological, order. Please forgive the confusion, repetition, and jerkiness, this sometimes causes to the narrative.

All these efforts of love are outlined as follows and start with Minnie's letter to Class "A".

"Nyasa", 4 MacDuff Road, Glenrothes, Fife, Scotland. KY7 4BT.

5th March, 1994.

Dear Class A,

Please accept my thanks for your questions which I have answered as well as possible in the time available to Ronnie, my youngest son, helping me over Easter 1994, and subsequently. My answers to your clever questions are attached.

You also have my good wishes for all you attempt to do with your lives in the future. I hope your journey through this life will be as enjoyable and as wonderful for you as it mostly has been for me.

May God richly Bless each one of you and everyone whom you love. Yours sincerely, Williamina.

WILLIAMINA'S 42 ANSWERS, under the original questions.

1. Can you tell us your full name and date of birth?

My eyesight is poor, my neck, arm, finger and all leg joints are stiff and sore due to arthritis and the wear and tear of years of constant use. From my youth until about 1970 my eyesight was so good that it still amazed family and friends. An Optician told me in the 1920's that I had what was commonly called "eagle vision" which meant that I could see further and more clearly both up close and into the distance than the majority of people.

After the age of 70 years I needed regular eye checks and glasses with increasingly strong lenses. By the age of about 94 years my eyesight was very poor due to macular degeneration for which there is no cure. Likewise, my hearing was excellent until the age of about 85 years when it began to fade and now I need a powerful hearing aid. Many other parts of my body do not work as well as they used to do, especially my fingers and all of my leg joints due to arthritis and osteoporosis.

As I have never been an idle person it has been a hard experience for me to gradually lose my faculties and have to sit and do very little for most of the day. Thankfully, my appetite is good and I enjoy good plain and wholesome food. Also I can sleep quite well and still like to rise early, and go to bed early. I think that I still can sleep, think, and eat well because I have never abused my body by overeating, or by drinking beers, wines or spirits, or smoking cigarettes.

Fortunately, my brain appears to be at its best as I near my 100th birthday. Therefore, I can remember these simple facts you ask about which are as follows! I am Williamina CASEBY, my maiden surname was MACFARLANE. I was born on 26th May, 1901, at Drumyellow Farm, Loanmouth, Carmylie, near Forfar, Scotland where my father was Farm Grieve.

MACFARLANE is a simple surname and easy to pronounce as it is composed of letters from the gentle Gaelic language. Even with a few different spelling forms, such as the "A" missed from the "MAC", or spelling errors, like a "P" instead of the "F", or an "I" instead of the last "A", or the "E" left off the end, or even with all of these changes adde together, the meaning is understood in the written and spoken word.

I tell you that my married surname is CASEBY for I was very proud to become one of that fine family when I married Sandy. It is understanding that although not mentioned in your 42 questions you young were curious about the origin and meaning of my late husband's and my own surnames. That is why I will go into a little detail for you.

MACFARLANE (or MCFARLANE) was my father's surname. It probably originated in Southern Ireland from the mighty "PARLAN" or "O'PHARLAN" warrior clans. The prefixes "MAC", "MC", and "O'" being a Gaelic addition meaning "son of". The "MAC" and "MC" suffixes usually applying to those who immigrated to the Highlands of Scotland.

A distant relatives from the connected BLAIR clan has told me that my genealogy, on my mother's RAITT side could be traced back to an illegitimate daughter born in 1138 AD to Margaret, one of daughters of King David of Scotland. I doubt that they are correct, but it sounds good. Most families can expects to find "skeletons" in their "ancestry cupboard". I have learned from my life that what you are, and the good things you try to do for others, are more important matters than who think you are, or the wealth or power you try to wield over others, or use to influence them wrongly.

The surname CASEBY ancestry probably goes back in English history to Dover, Kent, England, and the invasion of the Roman Empire. The first part of the surname "CASS" is a corruption of ancient Latin and Old French and German, meaning of "Carpenter", "Case", or "Casement" maker. To save work first printers used their long curving italic letter "f" on their printing presses to denote the letter "f" in a word and "ff" to mean the letter "s". The two "SS" letters in "CASS" caused problems and so the printers, and later the record keepers, simply dropped one of the "S" letters.

The "E" part of CASEBY is likely to be from the Old French when it would have been shown as "de" prefixed before the surname when the ancestors lived in the Boulogne area of France. This "de" being later Anglicised to the "E" inside the name.

The "BY" is a common Anglo-Saxon suffix used to make foreign surnames appear to be "English" in origin. This "BY" meaning that the family lived on the outskirts of a village as craftsmen might to be near to their wood supply.

CASEBY looks like a straightforward name but, because it is composed of so many parts of foreign words, those who hear it spoken rarely write it down correctly. (Interested readers will find more at Rootsweb, Missing Links, Vol. 5, No. 2, 13th January 2000, under "Just a load of old rubbish" in the archive already mentioned.)

2. Please describe yourself.

My height is about 5 feet 10 inches tall although much of the time my sore hips make me stoop and so I must seem about 6 inches shorter to look at most of the time. I weigh 10 stone 7 pounds and have done so for more than 75 years. I have never had an overweight problem despite my very healthy appetite. I am of medium build, have masses of grey and white hair, blue eyes, and very good skin.

Up to about the early 1990‘s folks who do not know me have given my age as about 70 years. For example, on 02/04/1994 a new Social Worker called to see me. When she arrived at my home in Glenrothes at 7-45 a.m. Ronnie showed her into the kitchen. I was working busily sorting out the day's food plans, writing out a shopping list, and supervising the preparing of vegetables for lunch at noon when visitors would be present. Ronnie introduced the lass and it soon became clear from what she said that she thought that Ronnie, my son, was my grandson, and that I was my mother's daughter, and that the woman she had come to help was an aged invalid in bed upstairs! She just could not believe that this then 92 year old me was any more than about 70 years old. We all had such a great laugh.

The above example should tell you that I am even tempered, ever active, have a very forgiving nature and a great sense of humour which has seen me through every difficult situation in life. It became my ambition from about the age of 9 years to have the faith, strength, and courage to live my life in such a fashion as to avoid temptations so that my parents and family would always be proud of me. This should tell you that my parents taught me right from wrong, to be honest in all things and to love my country. It was not by luck but by careful and prayerful thought that the man I chose to marry shared my beliefs and wishes. From then onwards I have always endeavoured to live my life as Christ would have wanted me to live it, rather than to preach it. My wish, as the mother of one daughter and five sons, was to bring them up believing and behaving as I do.

3. When you were a child what was your family like?

My parents and family were Jemima Smith RAITT, my mother, Charles MACFARLANE (or MCFARLANE as was on their Marriage Certificate), my father, older sister Annie (nicknamed "Bunt") and brothers William and George, and me (nicknamed "Minnie") and my younger sister Margaret (nicknamed "Maggie" or "Meg").

Mother and Father were Protestant United Church Members and had us Baptised as infants. They nurtured our growth in faith by their personal example of good living, of diligence in the daily reading of selected passages from the Holy Bible and with prayer in the mornings, at meals and at night. They encouraged our attendance at Sunday School, Bible Class, and other Church activities.

Their delight was obvious when, in turn, we accepted Jesus into our lives, declared it publicly, and became Church Members. They showed even greater pleasure when we all went to Church together to take Communion as a family.

In some of the areas we lived in we would have to walk for four miles over the fields to attend services in all weather conditions. Meals were prepared on Saturday and only put to heat-up on the wood fired cooking range in cold weather for Sunday, the Sabbath Day, was a day of rest from all routine work.

Like most country bred people I knew in my youth, my parents were always loving to one another. At their happiest when they were together. I can never recall hearing them argue about anything. They were proud of us, their children, and understanding of our stresses, growing pains, and heartaches. They were also hard working and strict with discipline at any sign of repeated unacceptable behaviour, conduct, or language from us.

My parents practised the democracy and faith they fervently believed in. The proof of this was that they discussed problems together, including each one of us as we grew mature enough to understand the situation, before our evening act of worship. Together, the family prayed about the problem and then agreed to ways of solving the difficulties. My father and mother were always happy to compromise, and we all trusted each other's judgements. Sometimes we could not agree. This meant that our father made the final decision as the head of the household and we all accepted it without further ado.

My parent's management of their wedded life was an example to us of how Christians marriage should be lived. They believed that marriage meant two people becoming as one not only in the sight of God but also with God as the third party to the union. We children were considered to be gifts from God and treated as precious to our parents.

My parents also believed that we should learn about or ancestors and about their successes and failure so that these could be built upon if not repeated. Unfortunately, both of my Grandfathers had died before I was born. They were; Daniel MACFARLANE who was born in 1834 and died in 1893 and Charles RAITT who was born in 1835 and died in 1876. Luckily, I knew and adored both my Grandmothers during my younger years and loved to hear family stories from them both.

Daniel's wife was Ann ORMOND who was born in 1830 and died in 1910. We visited her at her tiny home called Highlands of Connon which was built on the top of a hill about five miles distant from our small home on Drumyellow Farm at Loanmouth, Carmylie, Forfar.

Charles's wife was Ann Brown MOLLISON who was born in 1833, lived in the town of Forfar and died in the same area in 1917.

My father used an oft repeated saying he had read somewhere about ancestors which was, "A family can only see as far forward as it can look backwards". My mother always said an "Amen" of agreement after this quotation.

Now, more than ever, as I approach the end of my long life and see the mess so many couples have made of their lives, marriages, and to the well-being of their children, I know that my father was correct to keep repeating and reminding us of his favourite saying.

I also wonder how many young people can appreciate their ancestral heritage when they have been given forenames that are meaningless in terms of there past family relationships and history. In my youth children were given praiseworthy Christian names that continue the memory of loved illustrious ancestors. From about 1960 many youngsters appear to have been lumbered for life with, for example, the forenames of fleeting foul mouthed football players, mediocre and adulterous pop singers and film actors, all of which names are soon meaningless.

My mother was born on 18/09/1869, was healthy for most of her life, but had bronchial problems and probably age related diabetes for the last few years of her life. My mother taught us all her handed down housekeeping skills and to take pride in doing every job well. None of this work was a chore, nor was it ever boring.

My most lasting memory of my mother was the time and patience she took when teaching me to read Tonic Sol-fa, practice the Auto-Harp, sing with it or alone in tune, sing in harmony with others; and to always sing without a wobble in my voice.

Another good and lasting lesson was how my mother made all the routine work about the home such great fun because by worked happily at it as a family. Not only that but she planned it fairly and well to spread tasks evenly during the days, between the days of the week and the months of the year to take into account our other commitments.

My mother died peacefully on 30/10/1937, aged 68 years, in the cottage she loved, and with those she loved in Dron. My family called me "Minnie" as you can read in her last hand-written in pencil letter to me which she wrote only a few weeks before she died. My mother and my father always wrote in pencil for it was then easy to correct any spelling or grammar mistakes, and this was important to them. I think you will agree that it was not a badly composed letter when you remember that she, like my father and most other children of her day, left formal schooling when she was 10 years old in 1880 to go to work for a living. Her precious letter is always near me in my small "treasure box" of such things. You will also note that she addressed Alexander, my husband who everyone else called "Sandy", as "Son" for she came to love him as dearly as the two young sons she had lost.

"Dear Son and Daughter, (September 1937.)

This is the first letter I have written for a long time. I am up for a little while. If I had the strength I would get on now. Thank you for the Dressing Jacket you sent to me. Meg washed it on Saturday and I had it on yesterday. We had (a visit from) Uncle Peter and his wife. She is a very nice woman and made herself at home and helped Meg to wash the cups. She is only 43 and Peter is 69. It is the best thing he could have done for there is none of his family goes near him. I was sorry to hear about Sandy but hope he is keeping some better by this time. I am sorry I can't come to see him but I think about him night and day. I am writing in bed now after being up for an hour; will take a rest for a few hours and get up again. Hoping you are not too tired Minnie and all the rest well. I will finish and lie down for a wee while. Hoping you will send a Post Card or a short letter soon to let us hear about Sandy. Love to all from all. Kisses to the Bairns from Grannie".

My father was born on 22/06/1869 and he had seven brothers and one sister. In most of his jobs father was employed as a Grieve, or what today would be called a Farm Manager. He had the same job but sometimes on different estates belonging to the same landowner, and sometimes with different employers.

The job which he liked most, and held until 1939 when he was 70 years old, was as the Gardner, Handyman, and Chauffeur to a Miss CARNAGIE and her sister who lived in a big house, on one of their smaller estates at Dron, near to the villages of Dairsie, Balmullo, Logie, and Gauldry in Fife, Scotland.

In all our previous homes our water had to be drawn from a well and thus there was no indoors flushing toilet. There was no properly made up road to the house, no mains water, no sewerage, no gas, no electricity, and no telephone. Therefore, there was nothing like a refrigerators, freezers, washing machine or gas, or electric, lights, cookers, water heaters, or fires. We saw and even enjoyed many of these luxuries at work and elsewhere on rare occasions. At Dron we had a tap in the Kitchen with running water and another tap with hot water from the tank behind the solid fuel cooking range and this was a wonderful luxury to us.

My mother also helped as Housekeeper and Cook to Meg and Flora CARNAGIE and their reclusive brother at the big house about 200 yards away from our cottage on the estate that went with my father’s job.

We loved our small and cosy cottage. It was situated just off the main roads to Cupar and Leuchars and near to the linking smoke blackened orange gold sandstone bridge running over the St. Andrews and North East of Scotland railway line. The trains, carriages and wagons all had the initials LNER on them for the "London and North Eastern Railway".

Attached to the cottage was our own large garden in which my father grew all our own fruit and vegetables. He was a keen and clever gardener for he won many awards at local fruit and flower shows. He tried to teach his three daughters all he had been taught by his father and mother, and all he had learned in life.

There was also plenty of space near our house on which to keep chickens for eggs and meat, and to sty pigs for fresh pork when one was killed and for salted pork later. There were also many surrounding fields and streams where rabbits and game birds could be shot or trapped, and where fish could be "tickled", or "guddled", as father would say. These words meaning to very slowly feel for the fish under a stone with his hand, or put his hand gently under a fish resting by the bank, stroke the fish underneath to calm it and then catch it by the tail, and lift it out of the water.

Father also caught fish with a rod and line, net or set wire snares for rabbits and hares. He also used his point 22 calibre rifle, or his small six bore shotgun, to shoot pigeons, pheasants, partridges, ducks, and occasionally a deer for food, or to kill vermin such as rats, foxes and crows.

At different times of year, on the same land and river banks, wild berries such as blackberries, blaeberries, and elderberries, could be picked for food or made into jams and cordials. Hazelnuts and edible Chestnuts were other freely available treats. Roasting Chestnuts was an exciting and enjoyable pastime on cold winter days, as was toasting bread or scones speared on a long handled fork before a blazing log fire. My favourites finds were the wild fungus, especially horse mushrooms as big as a frying pan. The mushrooms could fried or stewed when found or be dried in the sun and used throughout the winter to flavour soups and stews, to make flans and to make omelettes.

Father also grew a range of herbs such as parsley, rosemary, sage, thyme, mint, dill, and bay leaves. These were also used to flavour roasting meats, stews, chutneys, sausage-meat mixtures used in the stuffing of chickens or when wrapped in puff pastry for making half-round shaped pasties (or "bridies" as their enormous brothers were called in Forfar), or to enhance fish dishes and gravy.

From my box of Treasures here are the contents of my father's last two letters to me;

"Dear Everybody, 18/04/1948.

Just a wee note as usual. I have little to say as you will have had all the news from Meg. Well, she is still busy polishing; they have not got their suite of furniture for the Sitting Room yet but are expecting it any day. It is a very nice comfortable house. How the "bairns" (children) are enjoying themselves, their faces are fair (very) red. There is a Pleasure Park just a wee bit away and I have to take them to it two or three times a day. There is a Chute and a Maypole and Swings and a See-saw and a Merry-go-round. Joan is on them all but Pat won't go on any of them. I carried her up the Chute one day and took her down on my knee but now she just screams if you try to put her on anything. But she stands and laughs at the rest of them on the rides. I sometimes have six or seven bairns with me. Well, I hope this all finds you all well including Sandy and Margaret and Lionel; tell them all was asking for them and give me their address when they go to Dundee. I hope Grant is keeping well, and him and Cyril are liking their jobs. We have got our digging nearly finished but what a job it has been. Meg had told you about me slipping on the floor and knocking my finger out of joint. It is a little sore and swelled yet but I can work with it all right now. All I can think of just now. Hoping to hear from you soon. Kind Regards from Granddad".

The second letter read as follows;

"Dear Minnie, (Written in early June 1950.)

Just a short note along with this Birthday Card. It may be a day late but I forgot till tonight but I hope you get it all right. The spirit is with it although a little late and I hope it will find you well and all your family keeping well. I hope you are getting good news about Margaret. I am getting very nervous, I have very sore legs and feet, but thank goodness my health is good as ever, but this shakiness makes me fair stupid. This is very unsettled weather. I hope it will soon get better. Well I can't settle to write any more. All the folks here are in their usual (good health?) and send their good wishes. The pigs are doing well and the hens are laying wonderful. Well that is all for the present. I would like to give you a visit but I am afraid to take the risk. We would all be pleased to see some of you her. There is no sleeping accommodation. It's a long road for a double journey. Tell all the family I was asking for them. Many Happy Returns of your Birthday. I pray for you all every night. Good night from Granddad. Write soon."

My father's pencil hand-written letters indicated that he had fallen and dislocated a finger and that his unsteadiness and the shakiness in his right arm was becoming progressively worse and annoying him. These symptoms indicated a sort of Parkinson's Disease which began to make him unsure of himself and unsteady on his feet.

My father eventually fell over and broke his right hip. He did not take kindly to being kept in bed at home, tried to get up to walk to be in the fresh air in the garden he loved before he was able. He waited until the house was empty then rose to try and prove that he was fit enough to walk about, fell over, and did even more serious damage to his hip joint and an elbow. He never had a debilitating illness in his life until he broke his hip, and died three months later of Pneumonia on 15/05/1951, aged 82 years. He was buried in the family grave at Logie and Gauldry with his parents, his beloved wife Jemima and their young son William.

My eldest sister, Annie, or Bunt as she was known to the family, was born on 17/11/1894 and died of a heart condition in Dundee Hospital on 29/01/1967 aged 72 years. Bunt was a kind, modest, helpful and considerate sister although she was always painfully quiet and shy. (This being a trait frequently found in many of the MACFARLANE clan but seldom in the CASEBY one!) Because of this Bunt found it difficult to meet with others socially, never spoke out of turn, was a person of few words, usually kept her feeling very much to herself, and did not like to travel. Bunt was never more content then when she was busy with her housework and family, or assisting her friends, and at Church events. Her home was in Ireland Street, Carnoustie, near Dundee, Scotland where she lived for all of her married life. She was always proud of what I had achieved and of my husband and children. Bunt’s quiet dignity and efficiency had always been an inspiration to me for her behaviour, and attitudes, were reflections of our mother’s.

Charles (Chay) RATTRAY, born 11/06/1894, Bunt’s husband, was a Blacksmith who lived to the age of 99 years. They had two children, Nancy and Charles. Nancy, married Dick ARBUTHNOTT and made their home near Blairgowrie, Dundee. Son Charles (Chay), a Carpenter, married Sandra WALKER. They had Debbie and Nancy and live in New South Wales, Australia.

Charles, the Blacksmith, died on 17/05/1988 some eight months after blowing himself up with dynamite which was supposed to remove a tree stump from the garden that was as stubborn as he was! After he recovered he succeeded in removing the stump with some strong and heavy levers he made for the purpose at his Forge. Unfortunately, the strain he put on himself caused a heart attack from which he died a few days before his 100th Birthday.

William was born on 30/06/1987 and only survived for about two months before he died on 09/08/1897. Such infant deaths were quite common because of the hard work women had to do, poor heating in homes, contaminated water from wells, no immunisation against common childhood infections, and the lack of medical care, and medicines, which had to be paid for from low earnings. William had been named after his Uncle William Mowatt MACFARLANE who was born on 13/04/1864 and who was murdered in 1892 by wicked people who then illegally took over his properly registered land claim and the Gold Mine he had established on it in South Africa. Because both Williams were dead by the time of my birth in 1901 I was named Williamina to honour the names of my brother and my uncle who I never knew.

When I married my parents gave me two brooches made from orange gold dug by my Uncle William from his claim. The most beautiful is like a tie pin as its base surmounted with two crossed spade shaped Miners shovels each with a tiny lump of gold on it, and all entwined by some cleverly fashioned rope. Both of these brooches were very precious to me and so, because my son Cyril is my only child with MACFARLANE in his name I gave them to him to keep alive the reason I was called Williamina.

Perhaps some day someone will return that Gold Mine in South Africa and all the profit from it, with interest to its rightful owners. You should know, dear reader, that in my opinion the world has become an even more wicked place now than it was in 1892 and that you should try to avoid evil people who only want to exploit your innocence.

George Grant MACFARLANE was born on 12/08/1898 and was ever a lively lad and always fun to be with who shared his fathers interests in country matters and animals. He was fond of cart horses and from the age of 9 years he stayed with his widowed Granny MOLLISON most weekends so that he could drive her to the shops and to church and to visit friends in her Pony Trap. He also used the horse to plough and prepare her fields for sowing. He left school before the age of 14 years and took every sort of work that had anything to do with keeping horses and farming. He volunteered to become a soldier with the Black Watch during WW1 on his 19th birthday on 12/08/1917. His training was quickly rushed through. He was sent to France where thousands of his comrades were massacred as they were sent into open land to attack well fortified German Machine gun nests set on higher ground.

George was badly but not mortally wounded. His legs were partially paralysed by wounds as was one of his shoulders. He took shelter from the bullets and shrapnel by crawling into a muddy shell hole with other wounded friends. They waited for hours for a lull in the fighting allowing First Aid attention and help to return to safety. There was no cessation of warfare. All the while it rained torrentially. He had to watch other badly injured comrades slip down the muddy sides of the great hole into the deepening pool of water with scream for help, and drown with frightening gurgles. Some with a more secure hold did try to grasp the hand of a slithering soldier. Then they were also dragged to a watery grave. Soon, there were few left alive and they could not save George as he inevitably lost his single handed grip on some shattered tree roots. Then he drowned, as did so many other injured brave lads in similar misfortunes all over that war zone, in an unknown shell-hole, during the Battle for Ypres, in France, on 12/10/1917.

In 1974 some friends visited the graves of their relatives who died in battles in WW1 War in France. They kindly found the grave of my brother George Grant MACFARLANE and photographed it for me. They told me it was in a beautifully kept plot by the Menin Gate War Memorial Cemetery. From the black and white picture I could see that the grave was neat and clean and had a lovely white engraved head stone and country flowers set before it. I keep this treasured photo beside a precious one of my parents and of my late husband by my bedside. I miss them all just as if they died yesterday, and more and more as the years so swiftly pass. I long to join them in heaven. There is now a British War Graves Commission Internet site and a page mentioning my brother under the surname MCFARLANE with broad details of where he fought, died and was buried. I am comforted by the fact that George's name will live on for ever in the shape of this memorial.

George SHORROCKS, my first boyfriend, another local lad, was badly wounded and fell close to my brother in no-mans-land. George could only watch helplessly as my brother, and his friend, died. My sweetheart was invalided home on leave immediately afterwards and so was able to give us first hand news just a week after my brother George's terrible death. It was from this source that we also had George's last shouted over the din of war messages of love, and of meeting again in heaven. In this respect we were luckier than most families who never knew about their loved ones last companions, thoughts, and prayers.

Like my Father and Mother I was very saddened by my brothers death for I loved him so. We were in gloomy company everywhere about. Most people were grieving for dead, missing or terribly wounded husbands, sons, uncles, cousins, lovers, friends, and work mates.

My darling George SHORROCKS was soon patched up, declared fit by the Army and sent back to the France to be killed in December 1917 when defending a village within a few days after leaving me with a cheery wave from the train. Two days after his death I saw my boyfriend's name had been listed as "missing presumed dead" with thousands of others in the columns of "The London Gazette". The local Station Master did this each day as a compassionate gesture. He cut

The names from newspapers which he had sent to him on the overnight train from London to help keep local people informed. The nearest Police Station also had, and posted, official lists of the "Missing, Wounded, Presumed Dead and Taken Prisoner" about two weeks after the event.

Those were anxious weeks for his family, and for me, wondering and hoping that their George, my George, was not dead but taken prisoner. The Army's cumbersome methods of processing communications were so poor in 1918 that it was six weeks after George's death before we had an official letter from the War Department confirming the truth. George SHORROCKS was buried by the French inhabitants in their tiny Graveyard with a few of his young comrades. The local Blacksmith made a Lorraine Cross marker from the scrap metal of war for each of their graves. In about 1933 a member of George's family gave me a photograph of that little Graveyard which I kept with my most precious things.

This was a sad time for me but there was little time to mourn as so many other local families had lost breadwinners, and the wives, and children, needed all the help and comfort we others could provide. This activity helped me to see my loss in perspective. As a Christian, I knew that God had something planned for my life and so trusted in Him, and tried not to despair.

One of my father’s older brothers was named George Grant MACFARLANE who was born on 17/11/1878. He survived the whole of WW1 in the Black Watch and finished as a Regimental Sergeant Major. He became the Postman for Auchtermuchty, Fife, Scotland, and the Beadle of the local Church until he died peacefully in 1959, aged 82 years, and a much respected man. He had several children. One of them, Graham, and his wife Jo, visits me occasionally.

To honour the name of these three George souls my husband and I named one of our twin boys George Grant when he was born in Nyasaland (now Malawi), Africa, on 05/01/1929. Grant currently lives in Abbottsford, about 100 miles west of Vancouver, Canada with his second wife Ann DOSSO.

Margaret Geddes MACFARLANE, or Meg as she was called by us, was born on 28/10/1903 and was very active and healthy until a few weeks before she died in Kirkcaldy Hospital on 26/06/1995, aged 91 years. She had the same personality and traits all of her life. She was, family loving, gentle, kind, generous, house-proud, hardworking, humorous, mischievous, talkative, and too much concerned with her health. Sadly, Meg enjoyed, and was much inclined to gossip. This tendency sometimes caused unintentional and unnecessary unhappiness to innocent relations and friends. Meg always had an artistic streak in her which was discouraged in school. Until she married Meg did black and white photograph hand colour tinting, She loved that fine, delicate and precise sort of task.

Later in life Meg enjoyed seeing and collecting beautiful objects, such as Cloisonné ware, especially with a jet black background. Cloisonné made in Japan, for example, can be a small oval shaped vase with a lid. The whole is first covered with all the edges of the artists design being outlined on the surface with soldered fine gold or silver wires. The enclosed spaces are then filled in with coloured enamels. The interior is sometimes enamelled with a jade coloured and quilted effect look. Meg secretly wished that she could have worked at making such intricately beautiful things.

On 05/08/1939 Meg became the second wife of John (known as Paddy) Melville WALLACE who was divorced from a marriage which bore one son. Paddy was born in 1907 and died in 1970 due to bowel cancer, probably caused by drinking too much whisky all his life. Meg and Paddy had two daughters, Joan, and Patricia, who also have husbands and children.

For the last years of her life Meg lived with Joan HUTTON, one of her daughters, at Windygates, Kennoway, Fife, in the house where Paddy, her husband, used to run a small holding producing fattened pigs, hens and eggs, and some vegetable crops from the fields.

4. What were your favourite hobbies and interests?

In the summertime before 1918, whenever the weather was fine, we played ball and skipping games and learned all sorts of dancing which I loved. Together we went for long walks as a family when father and mother would teach us all about the natural world. Individually, during the long dark and chilly winter nights we sat cosily round an open sizzling and crackling pine log fire with an oil lamp, or a personal candle, to help us see to do homework, reading, writing to relations and friends, drawing, sewing, knitting.

There was always a time before bed when we collected round the table to play family card and board games, such as card, Dominoes, Draughts, Bagatelle, etc. On at least one night each week, my father would play his melodeon and in turn we girls would recite or sing all the poems, hymns and songs that Dad and Minnie had taught us over the previous weeks, or which we had learned at Church, School or from friends. Sometimes when friends visited we would dance inside the house, or, if the weather was fine, outside in the garden to my fathers music and singing. Each evening always ended with a brief Family Bible Study and prayers for all those we loved.

In my case, I wanted to be a Dressmaker from the time I could first hold a needle and so my mother went out of her way to teach me sewing, knitting, crocheting, embroidery and tapestry work throughout those long, cosy, dark and yet memorable evenings of my youthful years. They stood me in good stead for making my own clothes, and clothes and household items for my husband and children. With an eldest girl and five active boys in the family there could have been a costly demand on our small income for clothes and shoes. Fortunately, I was able to make new underwear or clothes, repair torn items and remodel second-hand apparel and alter the clothes of the older children had outgrown to fit the younger ones.

Sandy's father, John CASEBY, had been Apprenticed and became a Master Shoemaker in Edinburgh. He passed on his useful skills to his son who was then able to keep our family's footwear in good order. Using these and other such developed skills saved us much of the costs of raising our large family. As an example for you of what I mean, Ronnie, our youngest son, had his first shop bought shoes when he was aged 9 years and these were plimsolls for school exercises, and overcoat when he was 11 years old. Ronnie, like my other children, never complained for they were always well dressed and knew that we were doing our best for them all.

5. Where did you go to school and how did you enjoy it?

Because my father frequently changed his jobs I attended several different schools in Angus and in Fife. From 1905 I can remember having to walk for about 2 miles along a railway sideline to Redford School on the northern outskirts of Arbroath from our Cottage at Drumyellow Farm. For a few days I did my journey there and back to school in the care of Bunt, my older sister.

Bunt left school and went to full-time work as a Cook before she was 14 years old in 1908 to a Mrs.. Lindsay CARNAGIE, Ansley House, Arbroath. This address was Mrs.. Carnagie's Town House, she owned an ancestral estate near Arbroath. Arbroath was about 20 miles from my home and I was able to visit Bunt at Ansley House. Occasionally I was allowed to stay the night with her. It was fun to be with my sister in a grand house with modern conveniences such as an inside toilet and baths with running hot and cold water. Bunt was able to come home for some weekends and for days off and the odd holiday.

Then George, my elder brother then took care of seeing me and our younger sister Meg to and from school until he went into full time work before the age of 12 in 1910. Then I was responsible for taking Meg, my younger sister to and from School with me on foot, for my parents could not afford to buy us bicycles at that time when we were not earning.

I enjoyed all my lessons, especially English, Maths, History and Geography, and never tried to caused my teachers trouble but I always looked forward to the weekends and holidays. Teachers were highly qualified, patient, considerate, kind, and were greatly respected by everyone. When I was young to have an education was considered to be a privilege. Teachers were expected by parents to be strict and to use the strap on disobedient students, to keep discipline, and to sometimes they make mistakes.

For example, I was strapped once for copying from another student when I was not sure about a rule in maths that I was expected to know but had never been taught to me in my many previous schools. I was so ashamed that I made sure I was never strapped again. I had to keep this quiet from my parents for my father would have smacked me again for not paying attention and for making life difficult for my teacher. In those days parents supported the actions of the teacher without question.

In 1913 my family moved to Finlarg Farm (known locally as Findrick Farm), nearer to Dundee, and about 1 mile off the road south from Forfar. Meg and I attended Inverarity School and this entailed a long and tiring walk over fields in all weathers. As I entered my teenage years I was already a strong, healthy, tall, attractive, physically well developed, and well mannered and neatly dressed young lady. I think I was a capable student and I would have loved to take my education further, although that was frowned on as a waste of time for young women by many parents.

When I was approaching 14 years of age the Headmaster of Inverarity School made sexual advances towards me. I refused his advances and was terrified that he would bother me further. This made me afraid to continue at school. I did not dare tell my father or mother what had happened for I thought they would not understand. I also thought that if the matter was investigated the incident might be blamed on me by the influential Headmaster. He also could have influenced an employer against me when I applied for a job after leaving school.

Most of all, I knew without a doubt that my parents reaction would be to believe what I said. That also terrified me for I knew that my father, or one of my many uncles would be so angry that they would murder my would be molester. I did not want my father or others to end up being imprisoned, tried, and hung for my Headmaster's murder.

Leaving school in 1915 was very easy. At my parent's request a School's Inspector came to the school and asked me for details of my proposed work, put a few insultingly simple questions, made me write my name and address, and set me some simple sums. I was then told that I could leave as the school could not improve further on what I already knew. I cannot recall any student failing such tests from the age of 9 years onwards and when their parents told the Inspector that their child had a job placement arranged.

So, to solve my dilemma , and because it was what I really wanted to do, I left school in 1915, soon after my 14th Birthday, to take my first full-time job was as a Seamstress in the town of Forfar. My father bought me a second hand bicycle so that in the good weather I could cycle to Forfar to work. When the weather was bad, such as in winter, I stayed with my Aunt Agnes MACFARLANE (nee GEDDES) at her home in High Street, Forfar above the Co-operative Society Stores. Aunt Agnes GEDDES (born in 1869 and died a few weeks short of her 100th Birthday in 1969) was the second wife of James (Jim) Young MACFARLANE, my father's eldest brother. He was born in 1855, worked on the Railways and then managed the Ballingall Billiards Hall in Forfar for the latter part of his life, and died in 1921, aged 66 years. Uncle Jim's first wife had the Christian name of Susan, her surname escapes me, she was born in about 1855 and died around 1894. As far as I can recall, and I think I heard it said that Susan came from Devon, England.

In late 1916 we moved home to Auchnacree Farm to be the Farm Manager and that was about 5 miles from Forfar, but I cannot remember exactly where. What I can remember was that both Coul and Auchnacree farms were owned by Meg and Flora CARNAGIE, two single ladies who were possibly sisters. My father managed both farms for them until they decided to give up farming and sell the properties. Coul Farmhouse was remote from civilisation and Achnacree Farmhouse where we lived was remoter! The cottage lay at the foot of a hill and the heather from that came right down to the back door. The front overlooked the fields. There was no made up road to our new home, only a rough and often muddy path.

Water came from a deep well. A bucket on a rope had to be dropped down a well to collect the water which then had to be carried to the house for every use. There was only a cold and draughty outside toilet. As part of my father's wages he had meal, milk, some vegetables, and some other things from the farm. Any other provisions we needed came from horse drawn or motor driven trader vans visiting the farm owners large house nearby, items such as paraffin for lamps and a "Valor" heater, candles, coal and wood for the fires, bread, fish, meat and groceries. The Postman was about our only other caller at this remote spot.

This new home location gave me a longer and tougher cycle ride to and from my job as a Seamstress in Forfar. My hours of work were 10 hours per day from Monday to Friday and until noon most Saturdays. This meant that I had to stay with my Uncle James and Auntie Agnes (known locally as Jim and Agie) in Forfar during the week and only go home at weekends and for the few holidays we had. My younger sister Meg had to follow the same routine when she later started work in Forfar in a Baker’s Shop and Tea Room.

Towards the end of 1918 Meg and Flora CARNAGIE decided to retire and sold Coul and Achnacree farms, near Forfar. They then bought Dron House, Fife, and father successfully applied for the vacancy of Gardner, Handyman, and Chauffeur. The ladies had one of the first new motor cars in the area and my father was quick to learn to drive it, and loved keeping it clean and tidy. He did miss the horses that had always been a part of his life and daily routine. The ladies also had a recluse brother living with them who suffered from a terrible skin complaint and appeared to be mentally unstable at times. I never found out if the poor man had been born this way, or if his injuries were as a result of being in WW1. My father and mother helped the ladies to control their brother when he became unsettled, usually during times of full moon. My sisters and I were told not to make any contact with this mystery brother.

Also, when we moved to Dron, Fife, I was able to continue, and eventually complete, my Dressmaking Apprenticeship begun in Forfar with the CARMICHAEL Draper Shop in Cupar, Fife, Scotland. Everything I learned and all that I was asked to make from 1919 was just a complete joy to me. My parents were proud of my achievements and pleased with my small contribution to the family income.

Meg, my younger sister, found a job at a Chemist's Shop near to where I worked. There she learned all about photography, first by developing black and white films and printing them. She was talented artistically and so she was taught to colour tint photographs with transparent dyes to make them a little more lifelike. Meg was like all of our family, always on the go, and made it her business to master all of the other Chemist Shop work.

Meg and I cycled to work in Cupar each day by way of Balmullo village where we were joined by others also travelling to work. Two of those new pleasant travelling companions were a David and an Angus CASEBY who I also knew from attending Logie and Gauldry Church. Initially, I knew that they were part of a large and well known family in the village, but that was all.

6. Do you have any special memories from your childhood?

My earliest memory is of being ill and in bed when I was about 9 years old. I recall many worried people talking quietly about me in solemn tones. I understood sometime later that I had caught a chill and had become seriously unwell with Rheumatic Fever. Doctors, medicines, hospitals and nursing were all too expensive for our family in 1912 for there was no National Health Service to help the likes of me in Britain until 1947. I just had to recover on the little professional help that my parents could afford, my mother's nursing care, local herbal remedies, good food and clean air.

When I was reasonably well again the local doctor said that I had a damaged heart. This medical prognosis meant that I was supposed to take the rest of my life easy, as a sort of invalid. Somehow this gloomy forecast was forgotten about in the coming years. I am now nearly 100 years old. Goodness knows how long I might have lived had my heart not been damaged!

My fondest memories are of our family being together and working together, learning together, playing, going to Church together and enjoying ourselves together. They are big words the answer to your question is summed up by mutual interdependence and togetherness. My husband and I tried to bring up our family in the same way. We, and they, were expected to say; "Please may I have (something of other)" If it was something beyond or parents means then we would accept the explanation given without making a fuss. We would never dare make use of those horrible words I hear children use openly today such as; "Gimme etc.", or "I want etc.", or "I must have or else (followed by some psychological blackmail threat or belligerent action)". If ever used in our household such demands would have lead to certain refusal, even to a hard smack on the back of the legs should they be accompanied by any tantrums or "crocodile tears" in a public place, such as a shop.

It is no wonder to me that our rich 21st century society is in a sad state; that there is a high level of truancy from school; that juvenile crime is rampant according to our politicians, police, schools, television, and newspapers. I believe all this is mainly because most parents allow their children to demand more than their family income can really afford on unnecessary toys, holidays, clothes, sweets, and suchlike material things. Neither do many parents show their children how to behave decently, or fairly, towards other people, through their own good example of upholding Christian virtues.

In my youth all educated children, as well as adults, were also expected to say; "Thank you" for any service, compliment or gift from another person, either personally in words, in writing, or by return of some needed gift or service. Violence and bullying between children in a family, or with those of other families, was treated as a serious matter and their school teachers, the local Policeman or the Postman were expected to smack any offenders and report this to the parents so that another walloping could be administered. If anyone was absent from school then the School Janitor or the village "Bobbie" (Policeman) would be after the offender who would be severely punished by the law when caught, and then by the parents for the disgrace caused to the family name.

From an early age we children were encouraged and expected to help around the home, doing necessary household tasks that my Grandchildren, and Great Grandchildren, call "chores", and would say were "boring". Poor dears, they just do not know the joys and pleasures that came for doing work for the good of the family. Our share of the needful work included operations such as, emptying, cleaning with black polish and setting the wood and coal burning fires which heated the kitchen, provided its hot water supplies and did also the baking and cooking.

In all of my homes, even whilst in Africa, there were only outside toilets available. It was 1931 before I lived in a house with an internal flush toilet attached to mains drainage. When I was young and living at home the least popular daily task was cleaning the toilet out. This had to be done by disposing of the human waste from the toilet pail housed under a broad and stout wooden seat covered by a wooden shed at the bottom of the garden. Flush toilets and mains sewerage removal was rare in country districts until the early 1940's.

You might also like to know that we did not have velvety soft toilet rolls in those days. If you could afford it you could buy toilet paper with the brand name "Izal". The company "Izal" also made a disinfectant for cleaning the toilet cubicle, seat and bucket. It had to be watered down before use, smelled strongly of coal tar, and had the brand name "Lysol", I think. It smelled something similar the "Jeys Fluid" gardeners use on trees and bushes in winter to kill the Codling Moth etc. The "Izal" toilet paper was hard, shiny on one side, and not very absorbent. It did not do its job very well. My father used to say, "It spreads rather than wipes!" Better types of toilet paper was just too expensive for most country workers.

Instead we had to use old newspapers torn into squares, with a hole bored through the one corner of a bundle. A piece of string was threaded through the hole in a thick bundle of sheets, tied, and looped over a big cup hook screwed into the wooden and creosoted wall of the toilet. The toilet waste was poured into 4 x 4 x 4 foot holes father had previously dug in the garden under the fruit and nut trees in succession. Fortunately, all the houses we lived in when I was young had big gardens and lots of trees, and no neighbours downwind, or otherwise within smelling distance! To disguise any smell the sewerage would then be covered up with a thin mixed layer of other degradable rubbish from the house and garden. This rubbish could be wood ash from the house fires, kitchen peelings, garden waste from other crops such as cabbage leaves, stalks, dead plants and flowers, lawn cuttings, weeds, scythed verge grasses and nettles, or fallen leaves in the winter time.

For those interested, the complete method was as follows. After the hole had been carefully dug about 5 feet from the base of the tree, the exposed roots would be pruned as necessary. When this hole was nearly full the top soil would be shovelled back to leave a mound, like a grave, that would gradually subside over two years as the contents rotted down to feed the tree. Father would dig these deep holes at the north side of each fruit tree in turn. When all these pits had been refilled he would start on the east, then the south, and finally the west with pit digging and root pruning. This whole process then started all over again, except that the holes were to the left of the original ones so that all the ground around the fruit trees was eventually fertilised and all the tree roots had pruning attention. This feeding and pruning method led to excellent crops every year.

That procedure was different from our everyday garden compost heap making one which could have anything but human waste in it, plus all the manure from the pigs sty and the chicken coop and all the horse droppings we could find! This covered compost was regularly uncovered and forked over (turned to put air into it). At the same time earth was added to introduce and encourage worms that would break the contents down into sweet smelling rough soil. This process would continue with each of several successive heaps until the oldest was rotted down and then dug into the vegetable, soft fruits and flower bed gardens. Nowadays, these two old processes are given fancy names like "organic farming" or "recycling", and the waste from sewage works is processed into fertiliser pellets to spread on the garden.

Helping with the laundry at least twice per week was another happy task. This involved finding tears in clothes and holes in stockings and repairing them. Then putting them into the copper boiler with soap and stoking the fire to heat the water and soft soap mixture. Followed by much gentle "possering" (agitating the washing with a specially shaped wooden tool, called a "dolly" in England) of the cooking mass. Either that or, for individual items some vigorous rubbing over a ridged glass scrubbing board to remove very stubborn stains. Then there was the fun of hanging it all out to dry on a line strung across or large lawn, and later ironing of most and the starching of some dress and shirt collars and cuffs. To me there is no happier housework sight than a clean line of washing blowing in a drying breeze.

A much more energetic task involved the collecting, sawing and chopping of fire wood to build up a store to see us through the cold and wet times of year. There were also always many jobs to do with feeding the animals, pickling meat and eggs, and preparing vegetables for soups, stews or to accompany cooked or cold meat dishes, and fruits for making puddings, pies, cakes, jams and jellies. I particularly enjoyed the daily making or porridge for breakfast and of bread, griddle bannocks, pancakes, scones, treacle scones and shortbread biscuits for most other meals.

Many of the fine things we made, and eggs, and trapped rabbits of caught trout, were also used as gifts to sick or elderly friends. Such things were also used in barter for other goods such as, milk, sugar and flour, or as a treat tobacco for my father who smoked a pipe, usually with a silver lid on it and upside down to keep the rain out. We had to do this for wages were low in those days.

My father used to make and cure his own tobacco from different plants and it burnt giving off a musty smell like rotting leaves smouldering on a dampened down bonfire. Mother always believed that smoking could not be healthy for the body and persuaded we girls never to do it, and we never did. By mutual agreement father did not smoke his pipe indoors because the smell hung on clothes, curtains, and furniture for days, becoming worse all the while. Father did not mind having to go outdoors to puff his pipe for he loved being in the open air, and could always find some job to do in the garden, or in his shed if the weather was very wet.

Latterly, whatever the weather, there was a daily round trip of about a mile to collect milk for Dron House, or the "Big Hoose" as Mother called it, and for ourselves, from which we made our own butter, cheese, and yoghurt.

It was always exciting when we were going to move to a new place, attend a new school, and find another church and make new friends. Our school day was from 9-00 a.m. to 4-00 p.m., and lunchtime was for half-an-hour at 12-30 p.m. I remember our school lunch which we bought from a nearby Sweetie (Confectioners) Shop. For a halfpenny we had a bowl of freshly made soup and a thick slice of new wholemeal bread.

In school we wrote on slates and I did not like the scratchy noise made by the slate pencils as we did sums and other work. I remember how we used a wet rag to wipe of slates clean after our work had been approved and marked by the teacher. This I used to think was how life must be; wiping off all that was unsatisfactory and making a new and better job of it next time. Experience of life has taught me that the mistakes we make in our lives leave permanent marks, and the best thing to do is to avoid making mistakes in all aspects of ones personal life in the first place.

In school I loved to hear in the Geography lessons about different parts of the world and I dreamed what I thought was an impossible dream about one thing for most of my life. That wish was of seeing the Rocky Mountains in Canada. One of my many Uncles had gone to Canada and become a "Mountie" only to be killed by some villains he was trying to arrest and I wondered what such wild mountain territory looked like where he worked and died. I never ever thought this wish would come true. More about this will be mentioned later.

AFRICA:

7. Mrs.. CASEBY, how did you meet your husband and what made you decide to follow him to Africa?

The terrible WW1 ended on 11/11/1918 and soon the troops began returning home to take up jobs and restart their lives. Many remained in the Army for life, some were demobbed immediately, and others were kept on for longer just to help wind the forces down slowly. Still helping with that winding down for the Army from Dundee was Alexander CASEBY, from Balmullo, the nearest village to my home at Dron. I had been cycling to and from work in Cupar with David and Angus, two of his brothers and I knew of him. I had seen Sandy in church on a few occasions and had heard him read some of his poetry, pray and read the Bible in Church but I was never introduced to him.

I had boyfriends. They were just that to me, boys who were my friends and who would take me to dances in local village halls. Some of them wanted me to take them more seriously, and so they would bring chocolates to my mother which she liked. None of those boys made any impression on my affections. I just enjoyed their company. I did not think that Sandy noticed me at all for he was a most popular and personable young man who did not seem to have his mind on girl friends so much as his plans to beome a Missionary. He was academically gifted, and talented. I thought that Sandy was not the sort to want a simple and poorly educated lass like me for a wife.

Sandy was very handsome in his uniform and was a Corporal in the Royal Field Artillery. Over a few weeks Sandy had organised a collection in our Parish, and a festive presentation event for a local lad who was to be demobbed at the end of March 1919. (Sorry, I cannot remember the heroes name.) This young man had won the Military Medal during WW1 for very brave actions and had been badly injured in the process. A "Hunter" pocket watch was bought, and inscribed, with the proceeds. The timepiece was presented to him at a Social Evening and Dance in Cynicus Castle, near to Balmullo.

Most of the local young people from several nearby villages attended to enjoy the fun. We played Whist at the beginning of the evening. Much to my surprise I won first prize. That was the only time I have ever won at a card game in public. Martin Anderson, or Cynicus, was a Dundee Artist and Cartoonist of printed postcard fame. He had built and owned the Castle. This famous and humble man awarded the prizes for the Games. Sandy was on the top table for he was delegated to make the speech praising his comrade in arms and do the watch presentation.

When I went up for my "top score" prize on 19/03/1919 I was resplendent in a smart dress that I had made. After I was given my prize (I cannot remember what it was) by Mr.. Anderson. I also had to shake hands with Sandy. He had lovely hands. He gazed into my eyes, and smiled at me, as he said appropriate words which I never heard, and handed me the prize.

That was when Sandy first noticed me. The sound of his gentle voice, his long glance and grin, made me tingle all over, feel weak in the legs, and at the knees. I felt hot all over and I was sure that I would faint. All I could do was to take the gift, and utter some confused words of thanks. Then I blunder my way back to my seat, and boyfriend, with a very flushed face, tears welling in my eyes, a great big grin on my face, and a heart pounding so hard, fast, and loud, that I thought everyone could hear it.

Then there was the pocket watch presentation to the soldier followed by dancing and then group games. Sandy could not dance but he loved the parlour games and joined my team. It was during this games activity that Sandy asked if he could escort me home afterwards to Dron. I hated having to refuse him for my father had already arranged for someone to escort me and my boyfriend to my home. I could not sleep that night for thinking about Sandy and how I might have lost him, but God had other plans.

Next day I had a letter from Sandy which was delivered by Angus, his younger brother, who cycled daily with me, and Meg, my younger sister, to Cupar where we all worked. In the note Sandy asked me to meet him.

Soon our romance developed for I already knew that I was hopelessly in love with him. He was equally in love with me and had just been too shy and too busy to speak to me earlier. Sandy had thought that a lovely young lady like me could never see anything attractive about a man like him, or one who would be in tune with his future Missionary plans.

David, one of Sandy older brothers, and quite a lad for the girls, had tried to date me several times before I met his younger brother. I had politely refused each time. Now I had no eye. or feelings, for him, or any man else, because I had instantly fallen in love with handsome Sandy. Many months later, Sandy told me an amusing event. David and he were out on a cycle tour of Fife with a group of old school friends. Some of the friends congratulated Sandy on capturing my heart. That was the fist time David learned we were courting. He became so angry that I had turned him down for Sandy that he threw his expensive new bicycle over a hedge that hid a rocky stream some 25 feet below. The machine was so badly damaged that David could not continue the ride, and had to walk several miles home carrying his broken bicycle.

"When Sandy first began calling at my home in late March 1919 my mother complained when he left that he was the only one of my would be suitors who called on me, and did not bring her a box of chocolates, or some other luxury. My mother understood why there were no costly presents for her when she found out that Sandy was not well-off. The reason being that he had cashed in his lifelong WW1 Disablement Pension for five hundred pounds sterling to pay for his own further education and training in Theology, Missionary, Agricultural and Horticultural subjects at Colleges in Edinburgh. Our United Free Church had accepted Sandy for training as a Missionary in Africa on the condition that he paid for his own education costs. Sandy so wanted to fulfil the promise he had made to Rev. Crighton, our Minister, at the age of 11 years to go to Africa in the sick clerics place that he was spending all his money to make the dream a reality. After this she became his great admirer, and supporter for my hand in marriage. Not that any other lad had a chance of marrying me for my soul told me that God had made us for each other, from the beginning of time, to be husband and wife.

Therefore, the answer to your question is that I knew from soon after I met Sandy that his work would mean him, and his future wife,  living in
Nyasaland (now Malawi), Central Africa. We became Engaged on 21/031922.  That was the day we exchanged rings. Sandy always insisted on giving me gifts on the 19th March each year thereafter for he said he had proposed and I had accepted on that date, and the ring giving was a detail. Sandy also said that the evening of 19/03/1919 was the anniversary of him having fallen in love with me at first sight at a Cynicus Castle function. All our lives since we have just split the difference, and agreed to use 20/03/1922 as the date of our Engagement.

My parents cottage at Dron, Fife, was set beside an orange gold sandstone bridge running over the main St. Andrews and North East of Scotland railway line. It was on the centre of that bridge that Sandy knelt down in the cinders, proposed to me, and I accepted on 19/03/1922. The beauty of the stone colour was hidden by a film of dirt from the smoke of the coal-burning engines that passed underneath. On the evening of our happiest of days Sandy inscribed our intertwined initials into one of the coping stones in the middle of the bridge to mark the spot where I said "Yes" to being his wife. He used a long rusty hand made iron nail that just happened to be on the ground.

My five sons knew this "secret of the bridge at Dron" story and loved it. It was a much demanded bedtime tale when they were toddlers. Later in their lives each of my sons made a point of following this tradition on Dron bridge in the presence of their fiancé. When each newly engaged couple added their intertwined initials to the coping stones they would also clean out every other set of begrimed initials. The amazing thing is that there was always a big rusty nail somewhere in the cinders covering the road to do the inscribing, and cleaning, of initials.

In 1976, because my husband and I were becoming too crippled to go to see the bridge, Ronnie (you know him as Ron) created and drew a design onto a blank tapestry cloth. It incorporated all our family initials as they appeared to be carved into the stone of the bridge. I stitched in appropriate colours, and Sandy framed it for me. The last to complete this bridge carving family tradition was Ronnie when he became engaged to Eveline on 25/06/1989. Eveline's Engagement ring had a Sapphire stone in it to mark the fact that Sandy and I had just celebrated our 65th, or Sapphire, Wedding Anniversary.

My parents Cottage at Dron has been enlarged, and modernised, since 1990, by people who have no idea of the love tokens, or their history, scratched into the once again begrimed bridge coping next to their home.

The "Dron Bridge Tapestry" with the family initials I worked into it in 1976 hangs near to me in my room at Clashfarquhar House, Stonehaven, Scotland Each time I look at it I relive lovely memories of my Engagement Day delight in 1922. I cannot see its details, as I approach my 100th Birthday. That does not matter for they are also imprinted on my mind, and engraved on my heart."

Sandy and I and our families had planed our marriage for late 1924 to fit in with Sandy's first furlough (a short holiday back at home after about every two years of service in Africa). An unfortunate set of circumstance in Africa suddenly speeded everything up. The Rev. Archibald BURNETT, one of the Missionaries, his wife and his family became seriously ill, one after the other, with malaria. Their serious state called for immediate hospital treatment in the town of Zomba and then repatriation to Scotland for specialist treatment. Sandy, as the only Missionary already in Nyasaland, was instantly appointed to take over all his predecessors responsibilities without any thorough induction to the major parts of the job.

As a consequence our wedding was brought forward to 30th April, 1924, at Livingstonia. This meant that I would have to travel to Central Africa by myself instead of being married at Logie and Gauldry United Free Church (UFC) by my own minister, and with all my family and friends around me as originally planned. On arrival in Livingstonia, I was to be married amongst strangers by the Right Reverend Dr. Robert Laws. Dr., Laws was not only successor to the late world renowned explorer Dr. David Livingston in Nyasaland, but also then current Moderator of the whole U.F.C., i.e. the top man!

At first many things about this new arrangement worried my parents. I thought it was their fear of savages or wild animals or snakes attacking me, or of accidents whilst travelling, or maybe of catching terrible illnesses and dying in a foreign land. We talked through all of these fears with John, Sandy's father, our Minister and folks who had been abroad and my parents then became happier but still something seemed to worry them. Finally, they admitted difficulty in accepting that their grandchildren would be black! They were concerned that our offspring would look out of place when we eventually brought them home to Scotland. They believed that my children would become the butts of cruel jokes by neighbour's children. It made them happy to discover that they were mistaken and that any children Sandy and I had in Africa would still be white!

8. Can you tell us about your journey from Scotland to Africa?

In 1924 I travelled the 32 miles from Dron to Leith, near Edinburgh, Scotland by train and Ferry over the Firth of Forth (the furthest journey made on my own and in my life to date). I stayed overnight with Mr.. James RODGER, one of Sandy's many uncles, and his family at Portobello, just outside Edinburgh. Next day they saw me and my luggage onto a train from Waverly Railway Station Edinburgh, which took me 600 miles due south to the Port of Southampton with all of its wonderful large buildings, gigantic luxury ocean liners, wealthy people in fine clothes and the dockside piers and berths bustling with every sort of activity.

In Southampton I boarded a steam powered ship which took me to Capetown, South Africa. So far, this was the easiest, most comfortable and least frightening part of my whole journey although the sea became very choppy as we sailed through the Bay of Biscay, and the climate increasingly warmer and more humid before and after the Equator.

Then there was a long slow, airless and stuffy journey through miles of scrub-like desert country to Beira in an open windowed train with hard wooden seats. The train was mainly filled with local people, animals and goods being traded. Our progress was so slow at times that the passengers just jumped on or off where they pleased. At other times the train would stop to let animals, like a herd of elephants, finish crossing the track, or to wait for a lion to awaken from a snooze between the rails, or to scare other creatures from the roadway with many blasts from the steam whistle. Sometimes the rail route took the passengers over deep ravines on the flimsiest looking wooden bridges. At these times a large part of either side of my carriage were hanging over the edge of just great empty space. On other stages the wagons would clatter and wind up, and round, a wisp of track dynamited and chiselled from the rocky hillside. All the while the engine would be chug-chugging and desperately puff-puff-puffing, and the wheels screeching, as if the climb was too much for the load on board. On one side the scene would be miles of scrub land and rivers in spate with just a wall of threatening sharp rock to be seen out of the other side. As the train continued on it drunken progress it would lurch from side to side to bang the stone face and loosen a little landslide of debris.

The train used a wood burning boiler to boil the water that made the steam which drove its huge wheels. Because of the heat and the demanding driving conditions our procession had to stop more frequently after the tougher sections to be filled with water and reloaded with logs. At many of these scheduled stops local tribesmen and women were waiting with all manner of fruit, vegetables, prepared foods, drinks, bone trinkets, wooden carvings, metal bangles and pets in wickerwork cages for sale or barter. The train was like a sort of slow moving always-open busy supermarket at times.

I still think and marvelled at the bravery and courage of the Engineers and workmen who had built that amazing railway, and of those who died or were injured in its making sofar from home. Those who had died in the track building were commemorated by track-side stone cairns surmounted with a metal crosses stamped with their names and details, or so I was told. I lost count of the number as there appeared to be so many.

By way of relief, an overwhelming change of pace came next by way of an exciting boat trip across the fast moving Zambezi which was normally about six miles wide and meandering. When I crossed this river was having its annual flood. This meant that it was over 100 miles wider than usual, fast flowing, swarming with swimming snakes, and wading creatures, crocodiles after an easy meal, and large lumps of log that had to pushed aside by sailors with long poles to avoid damaging, or overturning, the small ferry. It was something of a welcome relief to be safely on firm ground again and to see my luggage safely loaded.

The security I felt on land meant that my wedding journey continued with a long sweaty, dusty and bumpy ride in a rickety, poorly sprung ancient looking motor car over rocky dirt-track rutted roads to Blantyre. As with the train there were problems with wildlife crossing the road, or just lying on it, or walking on it in herds. These had to be waited for or chased off with much honking. The "honks" were made this time by the driver squeezing the big rubber bulb attached to the great brass bugle shaped horn. The driver also had a powerful elephant rifle to use against any creature which might attack us. Unusually, none did and I was quite pleased about this.

There were no prepared stopping places on the road and so if anyone needed the toilet the driver would stop near a clump of scrub and spindly trees and shout; "Men's to the left, Women's to the right and watch out for the snakes and things"!

The second last stage was for me to sail in small steamer boat called the "Ilala" up Lake Nyasa (the lake is as long as the length of England) to Florence Bay. The little ship was used by the natives living along the shores to transport almost everything from place to place as it was the easiest and most convenient means of transport. Inside the ship it was like a sweat-box and very smelly and the toilets were primitive and disgusting. On the crowded deck, and shaded from the sun by a canvas awning it was most pleasant. It was also cool because of the wind from the lake and the forward movement of the ship.

Luckily, the lake was smooth for in future I was to see it in a very rough and nasty state. Just before we anchored we passed an island, Crocodile Island, that was covered with crocodiles basking in the sun and swimming in the surrounding water looking for food thrown from the ship, such as scraps from the Galley. There were also many graceful Sea-Eagles swooping to catch the flotsam or to lift fish from the water.

My stop was at Florence Bay. This natural harbour, such as it was, was very shallow causing the steamer to anchor well off shore. I had to scramble down a rope net over the side of the steamer and travel ashore in a local rowing boat. Lake Nyasa's edge is quite steeply shelving on the shore at Florence Bay. To prevent me and my fine clothes from being soaked two Africans who were up to their armpits in water carried me ashore from their boat above their heads, like a sack of flour, and stood me safely on the shore. I thought what an unceremonious way for a bride to arrive at her wedding, but more was to come. I did not realise that I was being afforded first class treatment!

The final stage of my first and most memorable was up a rough 3,000 foot high 11 mile long winding mountain side road with many hairpin bends. It was made even scarier for me as I was transported seated in a wobbly one bicycle wheeled bush-cart (Manchilla) pulled by two men, one at the front the other at the back holding its protruding shafts, up to Livingstonia Mission Station.

For most of my ride upward I kept my eyes shut for the fall over the side of the track looked dreadfully steep and rocky. The bush-car contraption was locally called, continually lurched forwards, then backwards, or tipped side to side as the two "carriers and pushers" stumbled and tripped on the lose stone and pitted surface in their bare feet! Because of its height, breezes and trees I was relieved to find that Livingstonia was much cooler place than any I had encountered so far.

For various interesting reasons which can read about in "Going with God" my trip from Dron to Livingstonia in 1924 was done in the record time of 27 days (26 days if the one day from Dron to an overnight stay with relatives Edinburgh is not counted). Today aeroplanes and modern roads and reliable vehicles have cut the journey to about 27 hours!

I can also tell you that it was the most exciting and wonderful journey in my whole life. One that I can relive over and over again it in my minds eyes with great enjoyment, just by thinking of it.

The Phelps Stoke second American Commission "adopted" me on my way from Capetown when they heard I was to be married in Livingstonia to a Scottish Missionary. This team were on their way to Livinstonia with a film crew to discover how the Scottish Missionaries were training and educating the local Africans to take over the running of the vast enterprise that was the Nyasaland Mission.

Not only did the Commission film our wedding but the two Negro leaders offered to sign our Marriage Certificate as Witnesses. They were Dr. Jesse JONES and Dr. James Kegwera AGGREY. I know little else about Dr. JONES who never spoke of his upbringing, or of family in America. I did enjoying his cheerful and learned company for many travelling days, and dancing with him after my Wedding.

Dr. AGGREY told me more personal details in our many conversations. He told me that he was a Nigerian Prince who was sent to study in America. There he fell in love and married a fellow student from an influential white family and consequently suffered a lot of hatred and abuse because his intermarriage. He said that despite the resentment he decided to settled in America, teach at a University, raise a family, and to encourage Afro-Americans to gain a formal education and protest against segregation.

Some years later I was sad to read that Dr. AGGREY had died in an America Hospital after undergoing a minor operation and in unexplained circumstances. I also understand that the example, life, and work of Dr. AGGREY were one of the great inspirations for the efforts of Dr. Martin Luther KING. Although Dr. KING was assassinated in 1968 his activities helped to end segregation, and other forms of discrimination against Afro-Americans.

In 1972, when Ronnie learned from me that a film had been made of our wedding by the Phelps Stoke cameramen he tried to trace its whereabouts. All his efforts to trace the film proved fruitless. By 1991 he learned from the American Embassy in London that, if it still existed, it could have been transferred to the Malcolm X Museum and Archive in New York. He wrote several letters to the Museum up to 1996 without even having a reply. I would have loved to have seen that 1924 film, sadly it was not meant to be. But it may still exist.

9. What was your life like in Africa?

All the cooking, housework and child care was done by the African staff on the Mission Station as part of their education and training. My main task was to help my husband with all his work, especially with the educational and social work with the African women, such as Sewing Circles, Baby Care, Diet, Hygiene Demonstrations, and Health Care for Lepers.

Daily life was generally very challenging, busy, exciting, faith enriching, satisfying, stimulating and personally rewarding. Every improvement the Missionaries were able to bring about brought new happiness to some Africans and a better life to all living around us, especially in times of famine, or drought.

You also might like to know that because of the heat it was best to start work from 6-00 a.m. or earlier when the temperature was low, rest in shade from the terrible midday heat, and then work again in the cooler evenings.

We had many journeys to make for Sandy was responsible for an area of land the size of Lincolnshire. For comfort such trips had mostly to be done overnight with armed guides for protection and many African porters to carry everything needed. Most of the time we neither saw, nor met, other white people, yet we always felt we were in safe company with the Africans.

My life was also worrisome at times, mainly because of the illnesses that were constantly keeping us Europeans unwell, despite our immunisations and the medicines had to take daily to keep sickness away.

Until the swamps by the Lakeside were drained some years later, and the Mosquitoes etc., controlled by regular and organised poisoning squads, the area remained a deadly and unhealthy place for Europeans. The Missionary Graveyard bore sad proof of this for whole British families lay buried there.

Recurrent severe Malaria, and finally life threatening Cerebral Malaria eventually made it impossible for Sandy to survive if he remained in Nyasaland and so he was invalided home to Scotland by 1931.

10. What are your favourite memories of Africa?

My first memory of Livingstonia was of being taken ashore like a sack of flour as already described. What I did not mention there was that Sandy, Dr. LAWS, many other Missionaries, and hundreds of locals who were singing and whooping for joy and dancing with happiness. I wanted to be somewhere quiet with Sandy. The dignitaries wanted to make speeches of welcome to me and to the Stokes-Phelps Commissioners and their party.

Dr. LAWS finished his hearty welcome by saying words I cannot forget, "To all who come for a little and to the ONE who comes to stay". The Rev. MANDA, Rev. MKANDAWEIRI made long and well meaning complimentary speeches of welcome, all about my beauty and many talents. Uriah CHIRWA who was then assisting Sandy, and had who had worked with and been the friend of many Scottish Missionaries for over fifty years, made the shortest speech of all. He address Sandy in front of the assembled mass and said in perfect English, but with the broadest and thickest Aberdonian accent; "Bwana, you have brought us a brave and braw lass".

Sandy recorded what happened next in his Diary for 1924 where he scribbled; "It was a large cavalcade that moved up the mountain side, eleven miles, 3,000 feet, to the accompaniment of song and radiant joy". My impressions from the bush-car chair were slightly different, as you have already read!

My lasting memories are of happy, appreciative, keen to learn hard working Africans. This was how they could be when they were treated like human beings. This was not always the case for some white people who lived there seemed only too anxious to exploit the country and its people to increase their own wealth.

My Africans had languages, skills, culture, and art forms that were very different, and as old, and just as developed and as clever as anything in Europe. Most of their history, music, dancing, art, craft, and domestic skills were handed down orally, and with practical tuition from father to son, and from mother to daughter. It gave me joy to work with them, see them grow in confidence as they revelled in learning new skills. It delighted me to watch their new Christian faith drive out ignorant fear and superstition, and generally encourage improvements to their way of life, i.e. education, diet, dress, health, hygiene.

EVERYDAY LIFE THEN:

These questions are answered about my life after Sandy and I finally returned from Africa in 1931, Sandy eventually began his Church of Scotland Parish Missionary work in East Fife and then in Newmills, Fife, Scotland. Also after our family of one girl and five boys was complete up to the start of WW2 in 1939.

11. What were your most important jobs of the week when you were running your home?

Simply put my job as their mother was to help my children to be healthy and happy in body, mind, and spirit, so that they became a credit to their family, good citizens and able future parents.

My most important jobs were the ones I was brought up to believe in at home, in Church and at my Schools as being essential in a good wife and loving mother for the well-being of my family and of society as a whole. These included keeping the family healthy, clean, fed a balanced diet, neatly and cosily dressed, and sensibly shod. Ensuring that our home was always tidy, nice, warm, and welcoming for my family, and all who visited socially, or on business.

Also, my responsibilities included comforting, nursing and consoling any of them when they were sickly, injured, in trouble, or angry and unhappy. To see that my children were taught Christianity and its principles. That they were well mannered, disciplined (smacking them when necessary to guide them in the correct way), law abiding, never fell in with undesirable company, and did not fall into debt.

I tried to help my children by the example I learned from my parents; namely, to grow up being helpful and considerate to others, thoughtful for the needs of the elderly and those less fortunate than themselves.

Additionally, and most importantly, to see that my loved ones attended day school and church classes, were polite, respectful, and helpful to their teachers and their fellow pupils. I saw it as my duty to be at home when our children returned from school, and to personally supervise them doing all their homework properly, and correctly, before allowing them out to play with their friends.

12. How long did it take to do these jobs and what did you think about new inventions to make housework easier?

Having six lively children as well as being involved very much with my husbands church work meant that almost every hour was filled with something. Typically on a Monday I would light the coal fire under the copper clothes boiler at 4-00 am in our outside Wash-house, wash and mangle all the family clothes and bed linen and have everything hanging out to dry, and the breakfast ready for 8-00 am. The children had a rota for helping me with the drying of the dishes.

After the youngsters were off to school I would wash the dishes, beat the carpets outside, clean and dust the house, wash and polish the linoleum, rake out, black lead and then set the house coal fires. Then I would make morning coffee and sit down to drink it my husband. The "coffee" during and after WW2 was a liquid chicory extract with the brand name "Camp".

During this rest we would deal with the mail and work out a weeks, or each day's, plan of things to be done. After this I would do some shopping, then make lunch at 12-00 noon when the children would be home. They would help me to wash up the dishes and pots and pans afterwards and then return to school.

After lunch was cleared I would take the flat or "bolt" irons (which I had left in the open fire grate before lunch to warm up) and use them to press the morning's laundry, then put it all the clothes and linen away. Then I would rest for about half-an-hour by doing some clothing repair work, using my foot operated sewing Singer machine to make or alter clothing, doing knitting, or darning holes in clothes and socks, or by answering family letters, or business correspondence to do with the Women’s Guild and other Church organisations.

Then I would complete preparations for, and later lead, the Women's Guild afternoon meeting from 2-30 p.m. This gathering finished in time to be at home for the children's return from school at 4-30 p.m. Then I would give them some light tea, hear their stories about their day, oversee their homework and check it, and share in their fun and play inside or outside - all of this whilst keeping an eye on the cooking evening meal for 6-00 p.m.

Then, followed a gradual process of seeing the family, from youngest to oldest, washed and into bed, favourite stories read, or told, and prayers said until about 8-00 p.m. Now there would be time to make tea or coffee for visiting friends, or people who had church business with my husband. During this time I could also do some crocheting or sewing and prepare for next morning's breakfast. Then we would have Evening Prayers led by Sandy, our elder children, and any visitors to our home. When our evening worship was over we would wish everyone a cheery "Good Night", Dad and I would kiss our children and then it was time for bed at about 10-30 p.m. For me this was the end of another happy, busy and satisfying day.

(Note: "Bolt" irons were where a lump of metal was heated until it was red hot in the burning coals and then lifted from the fire with tongs to be locked into the iron's casing. This meant that the "bolt's" heat would gradually work through the smooth front of the flat iron and this would then be used to take the wrinkles out of laundry.)

Concerning "new inventions" I had a push-pull floor sweeper for the carpets which took up some dust, crumbs a cat's hairs and this was helpful. Machines to make housework easier were not readily available, and in any case most were too expensive for the majority of low income families in our part of the Scotland. All too soon, my family was grown up and away from home. Then we could afford electric machines to help with cleaning floors, washing clothes and preparing and cooking food.

We have never had a car but we always had a radio and it was a long time after before we could afford a Television set. From this explanation you can deduce that "gadgets" were never of much help to me for either they were not available, or I could not afford them at the time I most needed them.

13. Which of your family helped you with the jobs and why?

I never encouraged my children to do too much housework for it was easier for me to press on with it when the house was empty, then I could spend time with them when they were at home. I taught all of my family to look after themselves properly with cookery and housekeeping lessons etc. These I made fun and as part of their playtime and not as "chores." I loved all my household duties and especially the cooking which I happily accepted as my part of being a wife and mother. My five boys were encouraged to be able to fend for themselves, but not to be made into "Cissies" (unmanly, awkward cry-baby youngsters) like some "modern" men who do the housework instead of earning the income.

14. Was it fair that you were responsible for all the work in the house?

Yes it was "fair". Sandy and I wanted and expected to have children together. As soon as we became engaged we began to plan to build a solid and lasting spiritual foundation and a financially stable home base for ourselves and our children. To have children was why we married. Children need much looking after when they are tiny and as they grow to adulthood. Their upbringing in a comfortable and clean home, their and need for love, feeding, bodily care, clothing, nursing when injured or unwell, education, training and guidance away from evil creates much work for a husband and wife.

Nature has equipped women better than normal men with sensitive skills to nurture their children and bred in a desire, a love, and a satisfaction to do so. Most men are better at earning the money to make all of this possible and to support the wife with caring for their children.

The word "fair" in your question suggests that you may have suppose that my practical work with the upbringing of our children was "unfair", if you did then you were mistaken. From my earliest days, certainly from 1908 onwards, I wanted to learn housekeeping and child rearing skills from my parents so that I would be prepared for the wonderful day that I had a husband, house and a family of my own. It was not only my duty, but my joy and fulfilment, to look after my husband and family.

My role in the family was "fair" because I had accepted this as part of my sacred marriage vows. To me those vows were the most important Holy promises I had ever made to God. It was exactly the same for Sandy when we swore those vows before God and witnesses. We knew that we were making vows that should never be broken. These sacred binding marriage promises were reinforced in our pledges at the Christening of each of our precious children. We did not see our children as mistakes, unwelcome arrivals, or career inconveniences. We accepted each one gratefully as hoped for gifts from our gracious God.

Therefore, the answer to your question is that I considered all the duties and responsibilities of a wife outlined above to define some of the major things that being "a wife" entails. My own lifelong experience of human natures tells me that my ideas are correct. After all, what I have told you about being "a wife" is in agreement with the Bible. It also agrees with what I had learned as normal from my loving parents. My parents had learned it from their parents before, and so on far back into history. These long tried and tested methods had produced thousands of good, happy, honest, polite and industrious children in my ancestry.

Not everybody thought this way in my time, just as many more seem to reject my acquired values in today's confusing and technological world. Many people seem to live today with a love for earthly material possessions and with little or no thought for spiritual and eternal values.

Because of this it appears to me that many modern children live in a "brave new world" where are no longer allowed to enjoy a childhood. They are expected to learn Christian virtues without being taught them properly at school or at home, and neither they nor their parents go to, or belong to a church. Sadly, since about 1950, too many young people seem to be turned quickly into "mini-adults" for the convenience of their parents and for the businesses that exist to exploit their too great spending power.

15. Did you have any say in whether you wanted to move to a new Manse or not?

As I have already indicated, I took it as my duty to go where my husband's work took him. His new jobs were always challenging and exciting and we took them up in faith and did them together, as a team, always fully supporting each other. So the answer to your question is that my husband would always ask me if I was willing to help him tackle a new parish and it's problems before he applied for the job.

Whatever his final decision was about moving home I would never have dreamt of saying "No" for Sandy was head of the family. Everything we did was done for the furtherance of God's Kingdom on earth, in the name of Jesus and for His glory among all people. All we did was always a success for we worked and worshipped together as a family team.

16. Can you tell us a bit about your washing day?

This has already been answered under question No. 6. The process was really much the same as described there at Dron in 1912 to 1922 when I helped my mother and in 1933 to 1947 when I was doing it for my own family, as noted in my answer to your question No. 12. It was 1962 before I had the help of what was a very primitive clothes washing machine by today's standards.

17. Did you make your own bread for the family?

Although I could do so I never had to make bread as there were always excellent local bakers. I did make scones to use up soured milk, griddle pancakes, biscuits, sponge, fruit cakes which I iced and boiled "Clootie" dumplings for birthday parties and at Christmas. The boys were always willing to collect bread, pies, sausage rolls, and some sweet things for special occasions from the local baker for he use to spoil them with treats.

18. When did you meet up to see your friends?

Families in villages and even in the wider church family would fall out and not speak to one another or co-operate in activities. As the Minister's wife I could not take sides as this would add to the difficulties. Because of "people problems" like this I could not have particular "friends" within the congregation for this could lead to divisions, and then to the creation of opposing factions which would not help to solve problems created by others.

I had to treat everyone around as a friend and in exactly the same way. That meant no favourites and giving equal time and attention to all. Rather like a mother and father have to do with their children to keep everyone sweet! Having told you this, much of my spare time was spent working with women and girls in the church congregation. It was part of my service to the people in the wider community to visited the pregnant women, those with a new baby, the bereaved, sick and elderly.

Sometimes I visited then by myself, sometimes with, my husband, and sometimes with another member of the Women's Guild as part of its social outreach. In this way I probably had more "friends" than anyone else in the village for I was with many women to share their happiest, saddest and loneliest times.

19. When was your favourite time of the year and why?

Summer was always my favourite time for my children could spend more time outside in the healthy fresh air of the seaside and playing in country surrounding us.

20. What did you and your family like doing as a special treat?

A very special treat was to take a picnic and have it halfway through a long family walk either by the sea, or in the country and to join in with everyone happily playing games together.

THE SECOND WORLD WAR (WW2):

21. How did the War change your family's life?

The war made everyone think carefully about what "war" meant. My brother and my first boyfriend had been killed in WW1. Many women of my age understood and knew, as I did, the agony and horror that was to come for so thousands of unsuspecting other families when their loved ones became casualties of terrible fighting.

The gradually increasing stress, strain, and anxiety, brought by the threat of war, rationing, invasion, and of air raids killing us at home with bombs or gas soon showed in the behaviour and attitudes of everyone. This caused most folks to become friendlier and work hard together to improve conditions for the less fortunate in our community.

Even outsiders suddenly became more understanding and sympathetic to others they had not known before. This was good for the war activities brought large numbers of strangers into our midst. As I recall all concerned had the common aim of surviving and really did care about, and try to help, one another, even although most were not related and would normally have passed each other in the street without a word or a thought.

For example with the Women's Guild I voluntarily set up a Canteen for the fit and wounded British and foreign Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen in the many training camps and depots as well as for Land Army girls and some civilian specialist workers, such as Sea Mine disposal workers based at Rosyth Dockyard.

Running this Canteen meant that for 1,008 nights continuously, plus some afternoons, the ladies of the village helped me to prepare and serve tea and food to the forces for their evenings off duty far away from their own homes. We were also called upon to arranged entertainment and religious services and to help them write what for some were their last letters to their loved ones before they went into battle on land and sea, under the sea and in the air.

22. At the beginning of the War did you think it would be over quickly?

The politicians, the radio and newspapers told us that WW2 would be over quickly, just as they had done at the start of WW1. Few of us believed such official propaganda. We ordinary people all hoped and prayed that the war would be settled peacefully soon.

23. How did you feel about the Germans?

Most people knew that the German forces were mostly the sons and daughters of ordinary folks like ourselves who had to believe in their country and its cause and to do what they were told to do. Like most people, I had hateful feeling from time to time about Germans but deep down we all knew that it was their leaders who were at fault. The radio, the Government Ministry of Information mobile cinema vans, pictures at the main cinemas and the newspapers tried to make us hate the Germans.

My children as well as others in the village spent a lot of time playing at war, pretending to be aeroplanes strafing and bombing German soldiers and bombing their cities, and as soldiers shooting, stabbing and struggling or generally being cruel to one another. Such a change from the previous happy childhood games with the occasional "tiff" between young friends who would never have thought of killing each other before.

Like in the animal, kingdom we were encouraging our young to kill, or be killed, during their most impressionable years. So all this propaganda probably had the desired effect with younger people who had no real experience of WW1 and its aftermath of human misery.

I wonder if much of the armed crime and school playground bullying has something to do with the way fathers and mothers were raised during WW2 and the attitudes they have passed on to their children and grandchildren? Is it because parents and grandparents seem to see nothing wrong in violent films, videos, books, comics, and games and in the aggressive personal behaviour of their children and grandchildren that our homes and streets are so unsafe? Perhaps this is the long term price we have to pay for wars, like WW2.

I say this because for after 50 years of peace the evil that it aroused within most human hearts is still with us and badly harming our society. You young ones must try to make our land a happier place by not encouraging this wickedness between yourselves, or passing it onto the children you will raise in future. No doubt in a school somewhere in Germany young people like you are reading answers to questions from someone like me and are being told much the same thing by my look-alike.

24. What happened in your own town to get ready for war?

The Home Guard ("Dad's Army"), the ARP (Air Raid Patrol Groups) and First Aid Centres were set up from men too old for the forces, or from the disabled or those exempted for other reasons, such as for doing essential war work in coal mines and farming. The Women's Land Army was also formed so that women not needed for munitions or other duties could help run arable and animal farms. Large water tanks were built in the Village and filled to help fight fires should the mains supply be damaged in bombing. These changes happened quite quickly for they had all been carefully planned for many months beforehand by the Military.

Blackouts were also put over windows at night so that the lights inside would not give any target finding clues to enemy bombers. No street lighting was allowed and bicycle, motor car, and even hand torches had to be pointed downwards and masked to emit a safe minnimum of light.

We were all issued with Identity Cards which we had to show to the military, the ARP, and the Police on demand. We also had to carry gasmasks at all times. In the shops we had to produce Ration Books and have cupons cut out of them when we bought our rations. This was to ensure that everyone had a fair share of the little food that was available.

We were given stirrup pumps, and shown how to use them with a bucket of water to put out fires. They were hard move up and down and did not pump out much water spray for they were not powerful. It would have made just as much sense to throw the water from the bucket onto the fire. Fortunately, the stirrup pumps proved useful to wash the windows, water the garden, spray the fruit trees and bushes with insecticides, and for the children to play water games with on warm days!

Many houses in the village, the church, cemetery, schools, and the Torry Manor house had beautiful and decorative wrought iron railings and gates which were all cut down as scrap metal to be used, we were told, to make guns, tanks, aeroplanes and bombs. The sudden mass destruction of many local Blacksmiths' old art work changed the elegant look of the whole district.

The beautiful railings were roughly and quickly cut off about two inches above the wall they were set into by workmen using acetylene gas powered blowtorches. This process left rough little silvery grey metal stumps with solidified runs of molten metal down the sides. All that was left of the elegant railings looked like rows of evenly spaced burnt out candles.

All the children loved playing on the walls just as they did when there were bars to hold onto. Now there were the metal stumps to tear clothes and cause injuries on the children’s journeys to and from school. Many mother’s, myself included, then had a lot more patching to do to torn trousers. Also, as another result, just as much cleaning of wounds on legs and hands with Dettol, and covering injuries with sticking plaster.

It was only after WW2 that we discovered that such wrought iron railings contained too much sulphur and other metallic impurities for them to be of any use in war items, or for anything else. To save the authorities responsible from having to answer difficult questions about their thoughtless, wanton and unnecessary destruction of railings throughout the UK, and to save time and money, the politicians secretly ordered that it all should be taken out to the North Sea and dumped.

Collection points were organised for aluminium pots and pans, glass jars and bottles, books and papers and other things; all to be recycled for the war effort.

It was distressing to see the piles of wonderful and precious books that villagers gave, and to know that many rare issues would be lost for ever. Only a few months earlier we had seen pictures in the newspapers of Nazis burning books with headlines claiming that "destroying books was the work of Barbarians!" Now our own politicians wanted books to pulp down and reuse as part of our war effort.

Almost everyone made an effort to grow more fruit and vegetables and to keep hens for eggs and meat to help supplement rations. This self-help was called "Digging for Victory" on all the propaganda posters. There were radio programmes by a Dr. Hill, and leaflets were issued by the Ministry of Food, on growing more food, preparing meals from powdered ingredients, healthy diets and also on organising keep fit exercise sessions.

25. Did you worry about whether your children would be safe, or did you feel that you lived in quite a safe area?

At first there was a problem for the children wanted to watch the antiaircraft batteries shelling of enemy aeroplanes. It was exciting to see the colourful explosions in the sky, hear the and feel the loud bangs, find hot shrapnel that fell from above and to watch fighter planes try to shoot down German Bombers. This seemed like fun and our children just did not appreciate the danger they were exposing themselves to.

It was probably like a film to them at first. Some of the first bombs to fall in Scotland were dropped on the Golf Course just above Newmills. This first raid broke all the windows in Main Street which were not repaired until well after the war. Two Spitfires forced a Nazi plane to land on the golf links. A Munitions Barge exploded with a mighty blast one morning in the Firth of Forth some two miles distant and directly in front of our seaside house. The blast shook us and every part of the Manse and frightened us all. The very real dangers of war on civilians being taught at school and these real events in our lives just proved the truth of what the children were learning about. After several wet, cold and noisy sleepless nights in the Anderson Shelter we had built in the garden, my young ones became less careless about the dangers now daily around them.

26. Did you have an Air Raid Shelter in your garden and what was it like inside.

The day WW2 was declared my husband and some neighbours started to dig a hole 15 x 11 x 7 foot deep in my washing line and drying green at the side of the house. Then two corrugated iron Anderson Shelter were built together into this chasm and it was covered with sandbags,

earth (apart from a small entrance trench), and with green grass planted on top to disguise it from the air. All the windows in the house and village were taped over on the inside, criss-cross fashion, with light brown gummed paper tape so that any sharp shards caused by bomb blasts would be held together and so, hopefully, reduce flying glass injuries to people. It always seemed a bit silly to me putting shelters so close to houses. Damaged building could easily have collapse onto such a refuge and perhaps trap, and injure, the people sheltering inside more than a bomb would.

When the Air Raid Sirens went at night we lifted the children asleep from their beds, carried down into the shelter and tucked them up in the bunks there were they would wake in the morning. If the "warning" sirens went after 10-00 p.m. then the children did not have to go to school the next day. So when they woke up in the shelter they were pleased for they knew they had an unexpected holiday. The shelter had bedding, paraffin heating, a chemical toilet, drinking water, cooking facilities and a small supply of canned food that would last for a few days in any emergency. After the war the Anderson and Morrison shelters were dug out and recycled for steel making or, if purchased by the householder, used as garden sheds or garages.

27. What other precautions did you take during the War?

We all had to carry Gas Masks and National Identity Cards which had to be shown on transport or when getting into public buildings or military establishments. We had to learn where the Public Shelters were when away from home if the Air Raid Sirens sounded. Buckets of sand had to be kept at home along the streets beside the water buckets to help deal with phosphorus incendiary devices which would burn more fiercely if dowsed in water. The enemy bombers would drop bombs to blast the stone work of buildings apart and then incendiary devices to set fire to the woodwork and contents.

RATIONING AND FOOD:

28. How did rationing change the food you make for your family?

We were a large family with a small income to live on before the war started and so we never enjoyed many luxuries. Therefore, Ration Books made little difference to the amount of food we could afford, but a lot to its taste, composition, and nutritional content. There was less in the Butcher's shop, such as beef, pork, and lamb meat. In the Grocer's and other shops there was less sugar and all things sweet such as cakes, ice cream, fizzy drinks, and toffees, There was also less tea, coffee, cocoa, milk, cream, butter and cheese products. There were also fewer refined white flour products and housewives fried fewer foods in fats such as eggs, sausages, bacon, bread, tomatoes, mushrooms, black pudding and potato chips, as lard and dripping for cooking them in were scarce and oil was not available. There was a lot more of one thing and that was queuing.

The distribution of all foodstuffs was erratic and shops were sometimes nearly empty of essentials. When a new consignment arrived the word went round the village like wildfire and we women would race to the lucky shop to join a queue. One pleasant thing about queues in good weather was being able to have a good "chin-wag" with friends during the long wait for service. These scarce foodstuffs were replaced in our diets by having porridge more often as a cereal for breakfast or as a warm hungry tummy filler for our growing children before bed on a cold wintery evening.

There was always home-made soup for example, made with a marrow bone and fresh garden vegetables as a wholesome filler before main meals. Sometimes there were suet dumplings in the soup, or the various stews made for the second course which also helped as fillers. For other meals and main or other courses there was added variety from locally caught fish, yard reared chicken and field caught rabbit meat.

These proteins were balanced and made more interesting with tomatoes, vegetables and salad crops, home-made jams, preserves and chutneys, home-baked scones, pancakes, oatmeal cakes, and biscuits. Some new things came into our diet, such as dried egg, tapioca, tripe and onions, brawn, rissoles, curries, macaroni cheese, and dried fish, which some of the family did not like even when disguised in fish cakes, or kedgeree, but had to eat or go hungry until the next meal.

Between meals the youngsters could stave off hunger by eating home-grown tree and bush fruits. Although the children’s sweetie (confectionery) ration was for four ounces a week we could only afford the money for them to each buy about two ounces per week. The children soon learned to sell some of their cupons to richer friends and in this way were able to buy a few more toffees.

Bread was rationed later than most other foodstuffs. It neither looked appetising nor tasted very nice as it was made from dark grey flour, had other ingredients added to bulk it out and was often quite lumpy. In fact we had many different foods, less of everything and a low fat and high carbohydrate diet that we are now told in 2001 would be best for everyone in today's world!

The children were also allowed a few ounces per week of certain vitamin supplements in addition to their confectionery rations. These supplements came through the local Chemist Shop (Pharmacy) on production of their National Identity Cards. For example, a daily tablespoonful of malt was allocated for each one which they did not much like. The jars had the brand name "Virol" on them, plus a picture of a rising sun. We were at war against the Japanese and their flag was a rising sun I told the children that eating the malt was an act of defiance against this enemy and would help the war effort. One supplement definately not liked was liquid cod liver oil. It had the brand name of "Crooks" on the bottle, plus and a picture of a fisherman carrying a cod as big as himself over his shoulder. Yes, this two was swallowed down with the encouragement that the children were helping to beat the German crooks by swallowing it down without complaint. Just after the war my two youngest sons had a concentrated orange juice to supply their Vitamin C needs.

Clothing also needed coupons and this posed a problem for mothers like me with six growing children. Fortunately I served a five year apprenticeship as a Dressmaker in Cupar, Fife, before I married and so with my skills and my foot pedal operated Singer sewing machine I was able to remake clothing from my older boys for my younger children and turn what little material was available into new clothes. With wool unraelled from old jumpers I was able to repair old stockings and knit new things. I also turned cuffs and collars on shirts to make them last and repaired torn trousers, jackets and coats and made clothes for our daughter out of my spare dresses.

Coal was rationed and wood was short so we had to be careful about how many room we lit fires in to keep ourselves warm when the weather was cold. We had to be careful in order to save precious fuel for the really chilly Winter days and nights. Also for times when one or other of the children was ill with Measles, Chicken Pocks, or colds.

Concerning health there were a few main standbys for the problem of constipation caused by some deficiencies of diet, California Syrup of Figs was the most powerful cure, with liquorice powder made into a thick drink as the second best. Castor Oil was the usual answer to many tummy ailments that were used by the children in an attempt to justify a day off school. It was also good for easing earache when warmed a little by the fire. I saved up all the little bits of soap and melted then down in hot water to use as an enema solution for stubborn cases of constipation.

Oil of Cloves was used to aid toothache, Snowfire ointment for chaps on the hands and chilblains on the feet in cold weather. Pink coloured Germoline cream was used to help healcuts and bruises, Mr. Carter's Little Liver Pills for liver and kidney upsets, Milk of Magnesia for heartburn and Epsom Salts for pains in the stomach.

Other acceptable brand medicines were Aspros (the main brand name for aspirin, a derivitive from coal)) for lowering temperatures and fevers and Dr. Collis Brown's Mixture for colds and sneezes. A stone hot water bottle in bed was also a great comfort for almost any ailment. A warm bread dough, or Porridge, poultice was useful for clearing the poison from boils, carbuncles, or infected wounds. A little brown sugar under the sticking plaster over a thorn or a "skelve" (a sliver of wood well under the skin) usually drew out the intrusion overnight.

For all sorts of knocks, bangs, trapping of fingers, bruising, falls with grazes, sporting twists and sprains, and the like there was a wash with soap and water and then the application on cotton wool of either diluted disinfectant (the main one was called "Dettol"), for abrasions, Friars Balsam, or Arnica, for bruises. Those last few just made the children wince a little when applied but when Tincture of Iodine had to be used for dabbing on mouth ulcers, or infected wounds, and then there were heartrending shouts, and tears, until the burning sensation subsided.

The best remedy of all in the case of such minor accidents for the young ones was always a comforting cuddle, many sympathetic words, much praising for the bravery being displayed, a good rub over the sore area, a shower of kisses on the damage flesh to make it feel better, and a tasty sweet to suck. I had a hidden supply from my own rations for such emergencies and so I had to watch out for overacting after an accident just to enjoy one of my "medicinal purposes only" boiled sweets.

After each meal the children had a powder (called "Eucryl") which they used to dip their wet toothbrush into before scrubbing their teeth clean. When Eucryl was in short supply then foul tasting Bicarbonate of Soda, or even salt, had to be substituted instead, much to the disgust of all.

As mentioned in my answer to your Question No. 21 the Women's Guild ran a Canteen for the forces in the Church Hall, Newmills, for nearly three years. Supplies came through to me each day by van from a large Bakery in Dunfermline selected by the military authorities. Mr. Johnie

DRUMMOND, the local Carpenter, was an Elder of the Church and his wife Marion was a great help in the Canteen, as were a long list of other women. In 1939 Johnie made a large box with a secure padlock on it to ensure that nothing went missing in transit. Soon that box was not big

enough to cope with the increased orders for the Canteen and so one twice the size was made by the Carpenter who made the first one. William SPENSE, the local Carrier, collected this big box early every morning from the Canteen, took it to the appointed Bakery in Dunfermline (the where Andrew Carnagie, the great American Philanthropist, was born in the 19th century), and brought it back full of good things for the soldiers every afternoon. This second box did its job well for nothing was ever lost to petty pilferers or organised Black Marketeers. Believe it or not, that trusty box is still in service after more than 60 years of continuous use. My son Cyril has it sitting in his Garden Shed at Aberdeen where it securely guards his garden tools and equipment.

Very occasionally, perishable foods were left over at the end of an evening and provided an extra rations treat for our family, or those of other ladies helping me. These leftovers were usually sausage rolls, corned beef sandwiches, cream buns, or iced small cakes, and they were scoffed with relish, sometimes as a midnight feast during an Air Raid.

We had a large Manse and so we were required to house and feed some senior civil or military personnel, such as sea mine and bomb disposal experts working from nearby Rosyth Naval Dockyard, near to Dunfermline, Fife. Their food rations were also added to ours so that we sometimes could place a decent sized roast of beef, lamb or pork on the Dinner table and share and enjoy a pre-war like meal together with our guests.

29. Which food did you miss most during the war and why?

Most home made meals were missed because they did not taste the same when powdered milk and eggs had to be use in their cooking. Because of poor quality ingredients few foods tasted quite so nice as they did previously. For example, scrambled eggs made with watery powdered milk, dried eggs and little margarine were lumpy, sandy feeling in the mouth, runny and easily burnt when being cooked. I suppose we missed some foreign fruits like oranges and bananas. Yet I think that our family was actually quite well fed and enjoyed a balanced diet compared to single people or older couples.

(Note: Interested, or hungry, readers can find out more in the "Food, Glorious Food", in Rootsweb Missing Links, Vol. 4, Nos. 52 and 53 in the archives at; ftp://ftp.rootsweb.com/pub/mlnews/)

30. Did you do anything to increase the amount of food your family had, like growing vegetables and fishing?

This one has been partly answered under your questions numbered 28 and 29. We were lucky to have a large garden. Because and my husband had been taught gardening by his father, and was then well trained, qualified and experienced in large scale Agriculture and Horticulture, we were able to make full use of the land. We were almost self-sufficient in fruit, vegetables and salad crops. At some times we were able to sell some spare produce, or give it to needy parishioners.

There were few domestic refrigerators and freezers anywhere in Scotland before about 1950. Thus care had to be taken to store some vegetables and fruit so that they would last beyond their normal season. Storage methods such as drying and stringing and hanging onions, or separating out and laying apples and pears on open slatted shelves away from frost damage, or storing undamaged potatoes in triangular heaps covered with dry straw and a layer of earth. Our local word for the storing of the potatoes was that they were "clamped". I have already mentioned using jars to preserve some things that were otherwise impossible to keep.

Runner beans were kept in large jars between layers of sea salt. Onions were pickled in vinegar. Generally, the simplest plan was to grow more of the good keeping varieties of vegetables, such as late potatoes, carrots, beetroot, chard, leeks, shallots, sprouts, Savoy cabbage, runner and broad beans, winter greens, swedes, turnips and parsnips.

31. Did you ever go out to eat during the War and if so did you need tokens to do this?

We never ate out and so this question cannot be properly answered. We heard of people having meals in the few restaurants that were open and I think that they needed to hand over some ration tokens as well as pay for the meal. For those who were wealthy there was a "Black Market" where money would buy them anything they wanted, but I know little about this.

32. What was your favourite wartime meal?

We heard daily from the radio, and saw terrible pictures in the newspapers about, the bombed out and injured people in our own country, about suffering citizens of other places and we could guess at the deprivation of our soldiers in Prisoner of War Camps. As a result we were always grateful for every meal and thanked God for it.

I loved a cup of tea with my own fresh baked scones and pancakes plus my home made strawberry jam. I enjoyed most meals, especially the soups, stovies, fish dishes, and rice pudding with sultanas and nutmeg.

33. How did you get your children to eat food they did not like?

The very young ones sometimes needed coaxing with something new, unusual or different tasting. The older ones either ate what they were given or went hungry until the next meal. There was just no choice. If they would not eat their sprouts, for example, then they could have an extra plate of soup. They could not have more meat or fish for then someone else, usually me or their father, would have less, or go without. Nothing was ever wasted for if vegetables were left on plates they would go into the next day’s soup.

34. Was there anything you didn't eat because you could not get it or because nobody in the family liked it?

Imported foods were scarce, such as bananas, grapes, dried fruit, and condiments, such as pepper and spices, for Merchant Navy sailors were risking their lives to sail the seas due to enemy plane, battleship and U-boat action designed to starve our nation into submission. We knew that brave people were being drowned in bringing us food and so we were more than happy to make do with what home grown substitute products we had, such as coffee essence made from chicory plants.

One thing no one in the family except me liked was crystallised ginger. Sweets were rationed and my children might have been tempted to steal any confectionery left by others about the house. However, I found that my ginger was always left unharmed for me to enjoy at my leisure!

35. When you swapped ration tokens with other families how did you keep it fair?

Only my husband took sugar in his tea and so we were able to swap our ration for a "sweet toothed" families' cheese ration. This was the bartering or exchange of goods and so the "value" or money cost did not enter into the transaction. If someone was able to exchange 1 lb. of sugar for 2 lbs. of cheese and both parties were happy with the deal then fairness never entered into the deal. The price for such exchanged goods was just governed by the forces of supply and demand, and individual food preferences.

LIFE SINCE WW2.

36. What has been the biggest change to your life since the war?

For me this is the most difficult of all your questions to answer. There have been so many changes since 1945, some extremely sad for me, some that has made me very happy, some that have been planned, some that have been sudden and unexpected and some that have been so insidious that I have hardly noticed them happen.

In some ways I like this questions, that require me to take an inward long journey down the wonderful lanes of my most pleasant memories. The recalling and sharing of my memories are what I desire most for they are my everyday strength and shield against my faculties slowly weakening and deserting me. This gradual debilitation of my body and mind is another "big" change, probably the "biggest" one that has happened so slowly as not to be noticeable by me at first. All of my listed "biggest" changes were overwhelming at the time of happening, making it almost impossible to answer your question about the "biggest" one.

Initially, the "biggest" changes to my life since 1945 have been, my daughter being married, and my three eldest sons joining the Royal Air Force. Another would be my son Charlie being very ill with TB from March 1948 which made him delicate for life. Also Ronnie, my youngest child, having a serious mining accident on 17/02/1953, being in hospital for 21 months with complications, then being left 40 % disabled for life when he insisted on starting work again against medical advice on 05/11/1956. Then there was a gradual number of changes, each a big one in its own right, as all our other children completing their apprenticeships, higher education, then marrying and leaving home, and grandchildren arriving. Another ongoing change that became increasingly worrying was Sandy having constant spells of illness resulting from WW1 injuries and from the Malaria he caught in Africa.

Undoubtedly, in terms of sorrow the most important change to my life was brought about by Sandy death on the 14/05/1991, aged 93 years. This meant that I had to quickly learn to live alone and manage by myself after more than 67 years of having Sandy making most of the home and financial decisions. Often I feel alone, even when company is present, for the talk is not about the things I know about, love, and appreciate. Worst of all, my late husband is rarely spoken about by my family visitors, so that I am left feeling that he never existed.

If it was not for my youngest son Ronnie’s determination over 30 years of work with Sandy whilst he was alive, and me afterwards, to record and preserve our story, and genealogy, then there would be no "Going with God" book for you to ask me questions about. There would be nothing to prove that Sandy and I existed, or that in God's strength we accomplished what we did in life, despite our humble beginnings and basic schooling.

My strong faith tells me that Sandy is really quite close to me and that soon we will be together again and happy for all eternity, as Jesus has promised. Because of my faith I can tell you without any fear that I look forward to dying for this will be my "biggest" change, and such a great adventure!

A very big change for me after Sandy died was "Going with God" being published in 1993. This was topped in 1996 when 280 plus copies of the biography were distributed to all the places of learning in Malawi in by the British High Commissioner. Malawi Television made a special videotape of the whole event in Blantyre which is in my box of precious things.

Next "biggest" in the sadness stakes was my son Charlie dying of cancer, due to smoking cigarettes for most of his life, in 1998 aged 64 years.

These examples will do from the long list that I have constantly in my mind.

My constant and most faithful and loving visitors and helpers at Glenrothes were our son Cyril and his wife Gladys (MAKIN), first from Aberdeen, then from Edinburgh when work promotion took them there, and again from Aberdeen when retirement took them again to live near to their children and grandchildren. In terms of my day to day life the "biggest" change since 1991 has been depending upon others for a multitude of important matters always dealt with efficiently by Sandy.

Next must come me trying to ward off long hours of unaccustomed loneliness. Since Sandy died Cyril and Gladys have continued their extraordinary and selfless efforts to be with me, help me with financial and legal matters, organise my household matters, and comfort me. They did this despite important and stressful work demands and regardless of the inconvenience to themselves and to their own social life. I worry about not being able to thank them enough for all they have done for me since at least 1974.

Others living just as near have not been so caring, although they try to steal the limelight from Cyril and Gladys by telling others that they are my major supporters. In fact these others have done little of practical use, financial assistance, or spiritual comfort, to me.

Growing old is a very big change which has crept up slowly upon me without my noticing. It is now difficult to bear for I cannot move about or see so well and this makes me vulnerable, insecure, and afraid of doing quite ordinary things, such as walking down a few steps. This is very annoying as my brain is just as active as ever and I always have loved moving about and doing jobs, such as housework and cooking.

Hardest of all for me to bear is the simple truth that I have outlived all my relations and friends in my generation who thought, understood, and lived by the same basic values, standards of decency and civility as I still try to do. Growing old and increasingly less able was making it difficult for me to fend for myself as I wanted to do. I was not stupid and I had realised for some time before the death of Sandy in 1991 we could not afford to pay for strangers to look after us, night and day, and everyday, in own home. Together we had looked at Eventide Homes but we found none that suited us. Some of those homes were very well organised but were based on us only having one room and sharing for meals and leisure activities with a large number of other people. The major factor which put us off going into such homes for retired clergy was that many old friends were in them who had a range of psychological problems and it was distressing to see those once important people acting like clowns without realising their plight.

Sandy was more than about 2 years dead before my daughter and her husband tried to force me to leave my home before I was ready. Fortunately Ronnie came to my rescue stopped their bullying in its tracks.

By late 1994 I knew that I would soon need more intensive help around the home than I could afford to pay for. My children could appreciate this fact for themselves when they visited, and on such occasions I freely spoke of my developing care needs. My greatest need was to be back in the bosom of my family. Sadly, after Sandy’s death only some of my children graciously offered companionship, and some further usefulness for me in life by living as part of their family, and their offers were always open to me.

For example, Ronnie, my youngest son, and his second wife Eveline (WILLEY), Rodger his son and his wife Rachel (DIFFLEY) in England, and my son Grant and his wife Ann (DOSSO) in Canada, out of all my large family, offered to share their homes with me, or on a rota basis.

I knew that for 9 years Ronnie had to look after Daphne, his slowly dying first wife, at home until she died in October 1987, after 23 years of marriage. I knew that for Daphne’s last four years of life she had been a complete invalid, frequently and briefly in and out of hospital, and nursed unaided by Ronnie, day and night. The same Ronnie who was left 40% disabled after a mining accident in 1953 and who never complains about his own ongoing infirmities. Likewise, I knew that for over 20 years Ronnie’s second, Eveline, had to help tend to Janet, her younger sister, until she died of cancer in 1971, aged 35 years. Then James, her father had to be nursed until he died in 1973 aged 81 years. I also knew that finally, and alone Eveline had to nurse Elsie (RUMARY), her mother, for 14 years until she died in1984 aged 89 years. I felt that these two had borne enough burdens in life without me adding to them. Additionally, they had just married in 1989, so I would not agree to live solely with them in Chichester, West Sussex, England, during my declining years. Another reason for refusing their offer was that I would be 600 miles from most of my family and all that was familiar to me.

Similarly, I knew that Rodger and Rachel had only married in 1990 and had a small home in Thame, Oxfordshire, England, and a new baby Iona Kate, and house, and new jobs, to consider. Kind as their offer was they did not deserved their hectic life to be hindered by me.

I knew that Grant had married Ann in 1985 after losing Isabel (CHERRY), his wife of 31 years, to cancer in 1983, aged 53 years. Ann had nursed first Wilhelm DOSSO, her father who died in 1969 aged 71 years, and then Helena DOERKSEN, her crippled mother, who died in 1992, aged 92 years. Spinster Ann had married Grant in 1985 when she was 57 years old and in my opinion these dear ones in Vancouver already had endured more than their fair share of hardship, hard work, and heartache. I did not want to unsettle their new lives together and the prospect of living out my life so far from the rest of my family, and things familiar, did not appeal to me.

Other practical considerations where also in my mind at this time, such as that Gladys had nursed her late father, Rev. George MAKIN, for many years at their small home in Aberdeen, that Cyril had an important position in a big company, and many demands on his time. I also knew that Sandy, my eldest son, and Charlie, my second youngest son would have difficulty in providing a place for me in their small Council rented homes. Nevertheless, I did at least expect them to speak about my future housing problems after my dear father died, even if it was only to say sorry for not offering me a home, and for what reason.

My dear husband always made it clear to the family after we bought our house in Glenrothes in 1974 that if I died first then he would want to live out the remainder of his life in a Church of Scotland Eventide Home for Ministers, and have the occasional holiday at the homes of his family. Margaret, my eldest child, and only daughter, had continually promised the family that if Sandy died first then she would have me at her home for the remainder of my life. I had always assumed that Lionel HANSFORD, her husband, had also agreed to this arrangement as it had been so frequently discussed in his presence, and he appeared to agree support Margaret’s much repeated assurances on the matter.

That was why when Sandy died my mind was naturally in turmoil about many worrying and essential matters. However, it was at peace on the most important important issue which was me not being left homeless, or apart from my family. For many years I had believed that if I was left a widow my future housing plans were assured by Margaret, whatever happened. Thus, when Sandy suddenly and unexpectedly died 1991 my world fell apart for a while. I tried to look on the bright side, all the while thinking that I was to be living with at best with my daughter or, as a more cumbersome and unsettling alternative, with several of my family for, say, six monthly spells with each.

In all, four of my own six children failed to discuss offering me a home. Later, my eldest son, Sandy, did suggest moving into my two bed room house to be my companion and helper. I rejected this well meant offer for it was an impractical suggestion. He had his own responsibilities as he was married and had a large family. None of the other three suggest to me the idea of sharing their homes on a rota basis to lighten the load on the others who were willing to help me. To this day some of my children have never had the decency to discuss, or explain, the problems they thought my presence in their homes would cause for them or their spouses.

I was hurt deeply by these events and so I decided not to stay with any of my family. Instead I loojked for a place in a Residential Home with folks of my own age. This "rehousing" decision was the "biggest", the hardest, and also the most unexpected I have to make. It was also the saddest event that happened to me in my long life. Consequently after the Easter 1994, I had had to put my name on the waiting list for a Retirement Home in Kirkcaldy, Fife, run by one of my distant relative.

This home was close to where Sandy had been cremated, near to the large Victoria Hospital, convenient for my loving and attentive son Cyril and his wife Gladys to visit me from Edinburgh. Additionally it wa near to my only remaining and younger sister, Meg, who lived nearby in Balcurvie and who was considering joining me in the home.

When a place became vacant for me in February 1995 I had to sell my own house full of memories in Glenrothes. It was the first and last house Sandy and I could ever afford to own. We bought it in 1974 thanks to a low interest loan from the Church of Scotland Fund for retired clergy. I had to sell our "dream home" to pay the £300+ weekly charges for one divided room at the Retirement Home.

There, I had to exchange all that was familiar and that I loved for a new and strange place. I had to learn to live with and help to nurse feeble and ill residents. People unrelated to me whose way of life I did not know, or understand. Folks who did not know, or want to know, about me, and who had little in common with my way of life, beliefs or principles. I am sorry to say that most of my fellow residents, and staff, were just not the sort of persons I would have chosen to associate with under normal circumstances for our moral standards were totally different from mine. I say this because Christian worship, a personal faith, and a prayer life had always been absent from their lives.

Many of my new companions where foul mouthed, and minded, and thought that their repeated swearing and blasphemy was just harmless fun. The majority of them wanted nothing to do with the Church, except to have a Minister conduct their burial service. Most of my fellow residents spoke about looking forward to going to heaven when they died but had no time for God, or Jesus, or the Church community on earth. Although most of them were mentally sound their grasp of religion was absurd. Going into that Residential Home in Kirkcaldy was the worst move I made in my life. I often prayed to God that I would die and end this new form of suffering for me.

My fondest wish was to leave a "Nest Egg" (money savings) to pay for my funeral expenses, and for my family to share when I died. Every week since 1994 I have had to watch my savings carefully accumulated over 80 years, and the proceeds from the sale of my house and its contents, being spent on my stay in a Residential Home.

I wonder if anyone but me can understand that finding myself in home, and having to pay so much feels, like being punished and rejected by some of my own family. I just thank God the my dear Sandy did not live long enough to be subjected to the indignities which I have had to suffer. Every day I try to shake off the feeling that I am being punished for reasons not made clear to me by some of those I love. Reasons which I will not be able to understand to my dying day.

For all of the above reasons, having to lose my home and move into that first purely commercial establishment just before my 94th Birthday was the "biggest", most hurtful, and frightening change to my life. To put the truth bluntly, I would rather just have died rather than have felt so neglected, and rejected, and so put an end to all my worries and fears

Nothing stays the same when you grow old. Meg (WALLACE), my younger sister died after a sudden short illness in the Victoria Hospital near to me on 26/06/1996, aged 91 years. Meg had been a constant visitor to me, and was actively planning to joining me in the home to help me feel happier. Her ashes were interred in my parents grave by Logie and Gauldry Church by her daughters. I hope mine will lie there also.

The next blow to my "housing" new arrangement was that Cyril retired from his high level job, and moved from Edinburgh which was only 30 minutes from me (and on his way to and from many of his projects) to Aberdeen, about 2 hours away. Both these events meant that I would have very few family visitors, and my life would become very lonely.

With advice from Alison (MUIRHEAD), Cyril's married daughter, and great help from Cyril and Gladys I arranged to be transferred to Clashfarquhar Residential House in Stonehaven, a Church of Scotland establishment, in March 1996. In this way I came tolive less than 30 minutes away from him, and two other members of my family already resident in Aberdeen.

These two moves, first to Kirkcaldy and then to Stonehaven, were the "biggest" unsettling change in my circumstances over this period from 1991 to the present. Altogether these happenings have been for me like my worst nightmares come true for despite the kind Christian people who now look after me so very well at Clashfarquhar House.

Another gradual cruel change over about the past 5 years has been my diminishing dexterity and sight degeneration slowly stopping me from whiling away my hours of free time by making soft goods for other less fortunate people. Friends from outside the family were usually amazed at my regular output of handcrafted items throughout life, for my fingers and sewing or knitting needles were seldom idle.

My many creative activities continued until the age of 97 years after which my sight problems and joint arthritis, especially in my fingers, rapidly slowed, and almost stopped me from knitting, sewing, and crocheting useful items. Items such as blankets, shawls, skull caps, and soft toys, to the high standards I had been trained to achieve from my youth and which I always demanded from myself. In my last five active years, for example, I made over 400 colourful blankets which were sent to the less fortunate throughout the world. Many of them went to needy people in my beloved Malawi.

This creeping physical deterioration was to me a daily ordeal to my lifelong faith, and a cruel test of my natural patience. My intensely independent spirit, and my still very active intellect, made me feel anger that I could not continue to be in control of such useful events in my daily round. The other effect was that I now had many more lonely hours by myself with nothing to occupy me.

My hearing had become so poor that I could no longer follow a conversation in the room, on my loud-speaking telephone, or on Radio if more than one person was speaking at a time, or if there were loud background noises such as music. It also became difficult to hear and see my favourite programmes on television. Concerning music, I used to love listening to my cassettes of Jim Reeves singing, Light Orchestras playing soothing music, lively Scottish Country Dance Bands, and a few other things that reminded me of my young days, and my love of dancing.

Under all of the above these progressive mental and physical infirmities, it is not surprising that I suspect that I have become increasingly disgruntled and frustrated with my situation. I know that I must have sometimes acted uncharacteristically and hurt many who love me and those at

Clashfarquar House who are doing their best to help me. I sometimes suspect that I may have been ungracious to others,and yet I cannot remember why! It annoys me that my brain is not functioning as well as it has always done. Perhaps you can understand why I would say that this is the "biggest" physical, psychological and mental change in my life at this stage.

Maybe from all of the above you can understand why I pray each night that God will take me to be in heaven with my beloved Sandy who died in 1991, our son Charlie who died in 1998, and all my long gone loved ones. I do not pray as one without hope for I personally know Jesus and my Saviour, and so I have no fear of death. Please pray for me that God will is done.

So in my old age I have come to realise that "life" is all about constant change, some good and some bad. That each one of us has to learn to make the best of what inborn talents and skills and knowledge we have striven to acquire. Whenever I have been bowled over by unexpected events I just try to bounce back and "pick myself up, dust myself down and start all over again", as an old song advises.

37. Which modern invention has had most impact on your life and why?

Most inventions have had little impact on my life for they have just made it either slightly easier or more enjoyable at considerable extra cost. I believe that I would have had a just as happy and as satisfying a life without most of them. From about 1923 my husband had a Triumph motorcycle in Africa which he bought from his predecessor. This helped him do more work and I sometimes drove this over the very bumpy and uncomfortable dirt track bush paths for there were no properly laid, and drained, and tar macadam roads in the jungle.

An aeroplane allowed my husband and I to visit relations and friends in Canada. As a schoolgirl I had tried to imagine what the "Rocky Mountains" looked like. I never dreamed then that I would see them for real.

(Note: See also my Rootsweb site narrative which details this "Western Canada Tour ",1970 for a fuller account.)

Then in 1967, I found myself in an aeroplane going from Greenland to Vancouver to visit my son Grant with my husband as a Wedding Anniversary gift from our family. The pilot predicted deep cloud obscuring the ground all the way to the Airport and said there would be nothing to see until we landed. As we flew over the Rocky Mountains at 22,000 feet the "cotton wool" suddenly cleared and I saw the unbelievable beauty, grandeur and majesty of the many snow covered mountain peaks, the broad rivers, deep valleys, and great forests. They were all more fantastic than my wildest childhood imaginings.

My son George Grant, and his first late wife Isabel (CHERRY), had also arranged a surprise "Rockies" tour and so my most precious childhood memory is of a dream that unexpectedly came true. Sandy's dream of seeing his sister Netta after her 40 years in Canada was also to come true during this trip. One amusing incident remains in my mind. "Netta" had only an outside toilet on her farm. In honour of our visit a flushing one was built indoors. The paint was not dry in the new "smallest room" when we arrived. It was usable next day.

We first had electric light to replace gas lights with incandescent mantles in 1947 when we moved to the Manse, Blackridge, West Lothian, Scotland. This meant we could also have electric fires in the house. This meant that so much of the work content to do with coal fires was replaced. We had a TV set in 1954, and a twin-tub clothes washing machine in about 1958. I had a microwave cooker in 1993, but I have not really understood how to use it. We were never able to afford a motor car to make best use of the growing and extensive road systems that gradually inter-linked our country and Europe.

38. How has the role of women changed since you first got married?

Some women have a lot to say about wanting to be "equal" with men and this seems to mean that they want to do all the things that men can do. This inferiority complex (of not feeling that they are "equal") seems to be a very strange one to me for it has been truly said that "all great men

have a even greater woman supporting them", and also, "the hand that rocks the cradle rules the world". This convinces me that there are some vitally important things that a woman can do, such as encouraging the husband they love in his career, bringing up their children, running the household efficiently, and helping to keep the family out of debt.

Most women seem to have so much spare time now because of inventions (engineered by men) to help with home and family management compared to even 25 years ago, let alone when I was a girl before the end of WW1. In my opinion, such saved time should be used to play with, and help educate their children, teach them manners, pride in their country, right from wrong, and other necessary moral and religious beliefs by example and practice.

Together parents should strive to prevent their children from skipping school, bullying others, fighting in gangs, becoming involved with drugs, watching pornography on TV, and simulating violence in computer games. Parents should pay more attention to what their children are reading in books, magazines, comics, and newspapers, and viewing at the cinema. Above all parents should take an active interest in their children’s schooling and homework, and support the teachers in their own children’s proper education, social, and physical development.

Finally, mothers have the very important work of ensure that their youngsters have a good diet, and a happy, clean home to live in. All this makes for a tremendous job specification that normal men simply have not been emotionally equipped by nature to carry out. Additionally, women should be best suited to raising the next generation because of the special bond that exists between a mother and her young. If this "mothering job" was properly done then the world would soon become a happier, a safer, and a more productive place for us all.

39. Is this a good thing?

The wife has no more important job to do than keeping the family together, feeding them and running a happy and loving household for the husband to come home to after work. Families should only be of such a size that the father's earning will keep them in decent comfort without needing help from State Benefits, except for emergencies and retirement. In my opinion the many and terrible problems of our society today are partly due to the breakdown of decent family life for which everyone suffer and pay for, in one way or another.

40. What would you still like to see changed?

As you might guess from reading my answer to your question No. 38 I do not think that the behaviour of some "modern" women does them any good in the long term, nor their husbands and families in particular, or society in general. More "rights" for some usually means fewer for someone else. In all the examples I have observed in my life, right from the "Suffragettes" movement at its beginning to the so-called "modern career mothers", it has been the unfortunate "latch key kids" of such campaigners suffered. These mothers who want to be "equal" expect other paid people to be responsible for so much of their children's important upbringing, development of moral and spiritual values and education. Some of these parents send their children away to boarding schools and pretend that the lifelong psychological damage done to their offspring by this action will make then "better" adults. Thus, they give the impression that they value their children as just another "status" symbol, or bartering pawns in a "fashionable" divorce. The children of some such women do not seem to be treasured as precious gifts that only a mother can correctly nurture. It is one of life's greatest joys for a mother to give the love, attention, quality time, and energy she can to her offspring. It is only mothers who can help children grow into mature, clean living, and wholesome adults.

I have lived through two World Wars and many other smaller ones like Korea and Vietnam. I know much about the terrible atrocities nations have committed against nations and defenceless groups of innocent people in the name of war. Millions have brutally and needlessly died. Many of the "modern" women you ask about know all about the many means of contraception that are available to them. Yet all too many girls and women think that their bodies are their own to do with as they please, and claim that this includes murdering an "inconvenient" unborn child.

Logically this claim to a "right", if it is correct, must also acknowledge that their growing baby has the same rights from the moment of conception. Now precious "babies", gifts from God, are mercilessly slaughtered in the womb for the sake of mere selfishness. These morally and medically unnecessary abortions are done by people who laughingly call themselves doctors.

It is my understanding that these professionally trained medics who have sworn to uphold life. Yet the newspapers, radio, and the TV tell me that more innocent babies have been killed in this way over the past 40 years of "peace" in the "modern" world than were killed in all the terrible wars of the 20th century. The wildest savages would treat their young with more reverence than these "modern" mothers, and "professionals", and I am ashamed to say this includes a large number of people who also claim to be "religious".

The Holy Bible is quite clear on this matter of the sanctity of life of babies, as it does on many others. The Bible which is the Almighty’s rules for living an earthly life acceptable to him explains that our bodies a God's temples. Jesus taught us that it was better to have a great millstone put round your neck, and then to be tossed into the sea than to harm a little one. This Holy principle of the sacredness of every young life has been defiled from the mid 20th century, and this horror is likely to fill future history books.

Some "modern" women do not bother to marry, and have no husband. In such "uncommitted arrangements" normal family behaviour cannot b taught and shown to their children, simply because normality is not being practised in the home. In turn the offspring are unable to relate to those essential standards, and committed relationships needed for the moral, and spiritual, health of individuals in such a family, and thence to the destabilisation of the welfare of our whole society.

To my old way of thinking total freedom for some is only acceptable as long as it does not mean less freedom, subjugation, or death for others. Those unfortunate "others", as always in history, usually turn out to be those who are the most vulnerable and the least capable of protecting themselves, and that usually means the unborn, the young, the disabled and the old.

The excuse of some "modern" parents for not guiding and correcting their children into a sociable way of life is that the child has to "decide for itself" what is best for it. The results of much of this "modern" mother and "modern" father behaviour can be witnessed daily in the media through the reporting of high levels of the theft, muggings and other crimes, vandalism, abortions, drug taking, divorces, abandoned families, violence, incomplete education and poor church attendance. The cost of all of this has to be paid for by the decently behaved population.

Our politicians, and police, whose prime task is to protect what is best in society seem powerless to prevent these cankers from sapping the strength of our nation. "Back to Basics" is a good sounding political ideal although it is unlikely to gain many votes from those women wanting to be "equal". I think this for such a policy to work would require that mothers should once again take responsibility for the sensible upbringing of their children. Also that the fathers (whoever they might be) should work to provide the money for this to happen, rather than depending on Social Security to pick up the pieces of wrecked young lives, and foot the bills.

I now regret that I did not record more in writing about my parents, relations, and ancestors when I was younger. Unfortunately, my memory is now not very good on facts, such as some names, dates, places, and folk tales told to me about my ancestors. I have tried hard to pass on everything by word of mouth to my family but only Ronnie, my youngest son has ever shown any systematic interest in writing my recollections down.

Some records do exist which were handed down through my father to Meg WALLACE (nee MACFARLANE), my younger sister, in 1951. Ronnie visited Meg a lot, during 1958 and 1959, and afterwards, and corresponded with her for 35 years until she died in 1995, so some facts were found and recorded. Ronnie has discussed most of what Meg told him with me. I have been able to correct some information, and his records also helped me to recall other events.

Meg always promised to let Ronnie borrow the originals of legal Certificates and documents, or let him have copies of them, for entry into the Family Tree records. As happens in so many families, when Meg died in 1995 without fulfilling her promise. When Ronnie then later asked for copies of Meg’s papers and family photographs, Margaret Joan (Joan) Elizabeth HUTTON (nee WALLACE), her eldest daughter, claimed that all the documents had been left to her to do with as she pleased. She said she would not share the contents of her mother’s records with anyone else.

Joan visited me about once a week when I was at the Residential Home in Kirkcaldy. I frequently asked her to reconsider her decision on the basis that her records would only end up being destroyed on her death which was never her mother’s wish. Joan made it plain whenever I asked her that she did not intend to share the documents, or the Family Bible, with anyone else apart from her own two children Carol Linda and John Melville HUTTON. This is just one example of the problems some of my relations have created by not wanting to share what family information they have. It will only be lost if it is not shared. Unfortunately, others in my family have been equally unhelpful.

Therefore, what I would most like to see changed before I die is that these withheld and disjointed written records of my family will be shared with Ronnie and help him complete some more of the Family Tree. In this way it will be preserved and available for future generations.

41. What would you like to see the way it was before?

When challenged on paying taxes Jesus suggested that we should give to Caesar the things of Caesar, and to God the things of God. I have always understood this to mean that those who break man's laws should be subject to man's earthly justice, and that only God is wise enough to judge those who break His heavenly laws after they are dead. I am a Christian and I have never had any doubt that the evil minority who break the earthly criminal law made for the protection of the us all must be punished for the future good of society.

In my opinion, convicted murderers should be executed and there should be a scale of increasingly severe imprisonment and flogging for those who show disregard for everyone else by continually flouting the laws democratically agreed and kept to by the majority. Less glorification of the evil law breakers should be made by the media.

Much more financial help, attention, and sympathy should be given to the innocent victims of crime. National Military Service (Conscription) was a good for all young men and women when it was in force. It was an even more excellent remedy for the conscripted ill mannered, poorly educated, unskilled, unemployable, unsociable, rebellious, law breaking, aimless and unfit young people. They were taught discipline, how to read, write and count, made physically fit and well, trained in useful job skills, and were shown other parts of the world. When abroad National Service personnel saw, helped alleviate, and so understood real poverty. In all of such adventures they found a purpose for their own lives, a new self-esteem, and adopted a new set of moral values not taught to them by their parents.

Unfortunately, our Government ended Conscription and since then many irresponsible young people have no such safety net to turn them from the damage they inflict on society as a whole by their behaviour. Fortunately, young men are currently not needed for war purposes. I think that a sensible Government should have replaced Military Conscription with something like a compulsory year or so of National Citizenship Service from the age of about 18 years. The efforts of the young could be used for the benefit of the old, or the disabled young of their own country, or in support of Third World international poverty, illiteracy, and sickness eradication programmes, such as is done by organisations like Voluntary Service Overseas (VSO).

I can tell you what I would not like to see, such as World War Three, hunger marches, mass unemployment, the destruction of the National Health Service, and a more unfair, and uncaring society in terms of job opportunities, and care of the elderly. I mean an unfair society, like in my youth, where a few had so much, seemed to do nothing to earn it but play, and yet were grossly well off. Yet these rich "leeches" on our social system were highly regarded for their wealth alone by the leaders of every part of our country, not because they had contributed anything worthwhile to society.

I would not like to see a society in future where the many poor were required worked , so hard and so long, and from such a young age, for so little pay, as in my youth. Nor would I like to see youngsters from humble backgrounds try to improve themselves by gaining qualifications and skills, and yet benefited so little for all their efforts, and be made to work for people with a fraction of their abilities and intellect. So far as I can see over my life-span the rich have become richer at the expense of the poor, and the poor have remained at about the same level. The elderly and the disabled, as the most vulnerable part of society, have continue to be treated worst of all.

I would never like to see again the hard working, and living conditions, and the poor wages my generation (and my parent's and Grandparent's generation) had to silently accept. I would want not to see a return to the lack of legal protection my family, and my friends had from too many selfish, and greedy employers. Employers who were allowed to treat their workers as less than human beings, and with no legal rights to speak of when on the employer’s on their premises.

After 1945 some of these injustices I have mentioned gradually improved with the introduction of the National Health Service, National Insurance Contributions, Nationalised Services, and legislation to protect the rights of employees.

Unfortunately, these wonderful structures designed for the public good are now being sacrificed, and exploited, once more for the commercial benefit of the few, and to the disadvantage of the many. The exciting prospects offered by integration of all our systems with the EEC could lead to a fairer distribution of services, wealth and opportunity but most of our politicians lack the vision, integrity, and ability to make this dream happen.

I tell you I would not like to see certain things returning and yet in the past few years I have had to watched in horror as the NHS has gradually been destroyed, despite the honeyed and deceptive words and statistics of politicians of all parties when in power. There also has been a terrible downward spiral in hard won worker "rights" to fair treatment, safe, decent, and reasonably paid employment. For example, your own teachers have been disgracefully treated by successive governments. Additionally, because the Government has treated your teachers badly, they are not respected by parents as they should be, or provisioned enough from taxes. As a result all education has suffered, bringing on many of the ills of current society that I have already mentioned in answer to your earlier questions.

Unfortunately, the state of our once proud nation, Great Britain, seems to be fast returning to the "bad old days" where a few people had most of the wealth and power in our country, and abused it for their own selfish ends. This seems to be the obvious lesson that my long view of History teaches me. Yet our leaders who are brainier, and better educated than me, also must see what I have seen, never seem to learn how to do better.

42. How have the places you lived in during the war changed?

Some places have not changed much. For example although now modernised with electricity, mains drainage, double glazing and the like my last home with my parents at Dron, Fife, still looks very much as it did in 1924 when I left it. The sandstone coping blocks on the bridge over the railway leading to it still has the initials of some of my family, and their spouses, marked in it at September 1999, according to Cyril, my son, and this is a precious link to my past.

Other places such as the mining areas of West Lothian are totally transformed. This has come about because pit and their buildings have gone, slag heaps have been cleared, people are in cleaner, safer and healthier work. They now live in good homes amongst green fields instead of living in continually smelly, dirty and soul destroying surroundings.

Better roads, and communications, have opened up the country and folks can travel long distances to find suitable jobs. Telephones were rare things when I was a teenager. Some of the big houses had telephones, as did some businesses, like the Chemist or the Grocer, and they would allow poorer people to make, or receive, important calls on their instruments for a small charge, such as calling for a doctor when a family member was sick. Some people have to walk for miles to reach the nearest telephone to make such emergency calls. It was 1947 before we had a telephone in our Manse at Blackridge, West Lothian, Scotland. I can still remember what our first telephone number was, Harthill 246. When we went to Aberdeenshire in 1954 or telephone number was Drumoak 6. Both of those low numbers indicates that there were very few telephones about even in the 1950‘s. Today, everyone seems to have a mobile telephone, even quite young schoolchildren.

Families can now also afford to fly to exotic places for refreshing holidays lasting several weeks. Young people have "backpacking" journeys for a year or to explore our marvellous planet.

In my working youth we had three unpaid separate days of holidays per year with no sick pay schemes additions. If you were unwell you could not afford much medical treatment. If you became unable to work you lost your job and could be turned out of your home, if it belonged to your employer.

Some of the changes I have seen have been for the good, but many have not made things better, just different, in a constantly changing world which now seems to want everything done or achieved in a hurry for no good reason. I have come to the conclusion that "New, Advanced,

Improved" does not always mean, "Better, Cheaper, More convenient", just more expensive! The advertisers are especially good at making people part with more money by manipulating their minds through the media with the silly idea that "new" equals "better". A good example of this are the thousands who have died as a result of smoking cigarettes and yet the manufacturers will not accept the link, and end production, for it brings in too much profit.

Here is an example of change to illustrate some of the point I have made. I live for 22 years in what was called the "New" town of Glenrothes, Fife, Scotland. From 1934, and for about 15 years, my family used to visit the LAWRIE family Farm which was called "Stenton". By about 1975 "Stenton" was the name given to a large housing development built on the farmland. By 1985 even that large area was totally lost in the heart of this very fine well planned and modern town of Glenrothes. By 1995 Glenrothes had grown so much that it had nearly become a suburb of the ancient town of Kirkcaldy.

Where once there were beautiful and peaceful farms like "Stenton" with productive green fields there are now houses, airfields, factories, Commercial Businesses, Public Authorities Offices, Banks, Shopping and Leisure Centres, schools, colleges, parks, and extensive well kept gardens with safe traffic free walking and playing areas.

In places like Glenrothes, people live in light and airy homes with every modern convenience and service, all neatly arranged and linked by a wonderful road and communication systems to the rest of the country.

I would like to say that everyone who lives in places like Glenrothes appreciate all the benefits they have, but I cannot, for that would be untrue. There continues to be reports of quite a lot of crime against, and vandalism to, all the excellent facilities, such as graffiti everywhere, and mindless damage to houses, telephone kiosks, shops, empty homes, bus shelters, trees, and plants. Nothing like this happened in my youth.

What I can truthfully say is that the "Stenton" area of Glenrothes was much safer, happier and healthier when it was a working farm, and where ordinary people could come away from the dirt and grime of the cities, and industry, for a brief rest, and to enjoy the countryside in peace, and without fear. The modern improvements to "Stenton" have also brought isolation to many disabled, ill, and elderly people in their wake, and so it is evident to me that "new" does not necessarily mean "better" for many caught up in the process of rapid social change, such as in the building of Glenrothes. I rejoice to see folks being given the opportunity of improving their way of life, but I am saddened to see so many young people abusing, and misusing, the good things my generation has given.

FINALLY. As you see there are many things for you young people to put right. Good luck. God Bless, Williamina.

CONCLUSION BY RONALD RODGER CASEBY.

As a result of much appreciated "Thank You" emails resulting from "FOOD, GLORIOUS FOOD" being published in Rootsweb Missing Links my memory was jogged further concerning 1939. The result of this jogging seemed to me to make a perfect ending to this article.

I recalled our my mother, father, and family being seated around our Radio set in our warm Newmills Kitchen. We were all hoping that the accumulators would not run out of power as they nearly always did at crucial times, as we were eagre to hear our King’s first Festive message to the nation. We listened intently, and without a word being spoken, not so much as a cough in the Royal presence, to the 1939 afternoon Christmas Day words of King George 6th.

Within the speech there was some poetic verse by M. Louise HASKINS (1875 - 1957) which she composed about 1908 as part of a piece entitled "The Desert." It went as follows;

’And I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year: "Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown". And he replied: "Go out into the darkness and put your hand into the hand of God. That shall be to you better than light and safer than a known way."‘

Having been through WW1, and knowing the war fever that was gripping everyone at that time, my father advised we, his precious children, to learn the words by rote and treasure them in our hearts for future comfort and assurance.

Sandy soon had a copy of the words framed as a learning aid, and hung on the wall at a convenient height for all of us to read. Minnie saw to our memorising of the words. She repeated the words frequently with each one of us as our bedtime prayer. We were highly praised, and rewarded by a delighted Sandy when we were "word perfect" and could repeat the words from memory in front of him in his Study.

Those words have often comforted me in dark times past. They seem ideal advice for everyone alive and "at the gate" of 2000. They seem even more reassuring as I move forward into the turmoil of this new Millennium's start.

Many years later I learned that the content had been selected, and speech had been written for King George 6th, by that great poet, and author, Rudyard KIPLING. Because of my love for the words and my being the youngest to memorise them Father promised me in 1969 that he would bequeath the framed parchment to me along with all his other written words. The illustrated and framed words, like so many other items Father intended me to have disappeared during their various home moves after 1974, as did many other items. The loss of the picture did not really matter for its message and contents have always lain hidden in my heart.

I mentioned the first words of the poem to my mother when I gave her my New Year's Day 2000 greetings by telephone at 10-15 a.m. She was able to complete the whole passage without a mistake in her 99th year, and the memories the words brought back made her weep for joy. We spoke as Minnie was on her way to the 10-30 a.m. Service at Clashfarquhar House, the Church of Scotland Retirement where she lives in Stonehaven, Scotland. She said the words would be used as her Prayer to the gathering. Later she recounted to me how her recital of the words had brought back many lovely memories to the other residents, and older staff, who also recalled their own circumstances at the time of the broadcast.

ENDS. Copyright, Ronald Rodger CASEBY, Chichester, 09/04/2001. Email: Ronald_Caseby@msn.com