After our AGM on April 12th, Ruth Weaver’s described coming to Blagdon as a Land Girl. Her reminiscences were beautifully encapsulated in her poem When First I Came To Blagdon:-

When first I came to Blagdon
A Land Girl in the war
I looked at her through homesick eyes
Her beauty never saw.

They told me when I volunteered
I wouldn’t have to roam
Could choose the job I liked the best
Be posted close to home.

But then my call-up papers came
A short curt note to say
Would I go down to Somerset
Just prior to Christmas Day ?

In one brief month they’d teach me all
To milk and hoe – but how
When I was simply petrified
At the back end of a cow !

My heavy heart was sad by day
Hot tears at night were shed
My wrists and arms were numb with pain
As each new dawn I’d dread.

My hostel training over
I’d acquired my accolade
Then really thought that Butcombe Farm
Was the last place God had made.

I couldn’t grasp the dialect
Of Dick and Frank and Ern
And my North Country accent
Gave them all quite a turn.

The work was hard, the hours were long
“Stick at it if you can!”
Of course I did, by then I’d met
My handsome, tall young man.

Now Blagdon’s beauty I enjoy
Each day thro’ sun and rain
Yet still a lass fromLancashire
For ever I’ll remain.

Ruth Weaver