Petrol, Parades, and Home Guard Nights

"The youngsters make me feel old and finished," thought Fred. "I don't think this modern passion for hurry is good on a farm."

"I did not hear a skylark all day," thought Edith, "and I still smell the petrol fumes."

Alexa, who had been driving the car most of the day, just felt sick. "The rock, rock of the car as it moved forward and back; the smell of the hot engine... Oh dear, it's not my idea of a good haymaking day."

The two soldiers just thought it had been a day out of their training — not that they were keen to fight, but someone had to stop the Japs soon.

After tea, Fred prepared to go out. "It's Home Guard tonight," he reminded his wife.

Esther looked at her husband's tired face. He seemed to be limping more than usual too.

"Do you need to go tonight?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied, responding more to the loving concern in her voice than the actual question. "We're making plans for a series of manoeuvres with the Raglan company, and besides, I've promised to take that new man from along Sainsbury Road."

About 100 men gathered at the Gordonton Hall for the parade where Don Riddell was the C.O. and the genius behind the success of the company.

Years later someone said, "You know, Don Riddell was one of the most courageous men I have ever met. In spite of being in a wheelchair and almost blind, I never heard him complain. His ideas at Home Guard kept us on our toes."

Fred said, "When I first came to Gordonton we would say, 'Where Don is there will be fun and laughter.'"

At the parade, sticks were given out. Some of the men had shotguns or .303s, but no guns or ammunition were available for Home Guard units, at least not in the early part of the war.

"Never mind. It's good exercise with sticks instead," said Claude Mexted, who took the P.T. part of the programme.

Don Riddell explained the rest of the evening's work. One platoon were to take up their position in trenches near Woodlands Homestead.