“Another time I was biking home for lunch when the cows were being taken for milking. Behind them were some troops from Grange Camp. Not wanting them to see a Land Army girl frightened of cows I rode through them when a tail flicked out and hit me in the face, knocking me off the bike. There I sat, my bike on top of me, a dirty face and the troops laughing.
One day a gamekeeper asked whether I could kill and pluck a cockerel. I agreed, but it was a disaster. Thinking it was dead, I started to pluck it. I had just taken the feathers off one side when it jumped off my lap and started to run and squawk around the room. Poor thing, it looked so funny, half-naked. It was the first and last chicken I tried to kill.”
Mrs. K.A. Scott. [Maiden name unknown]
Source: ‘Bedford on Sunday’ newspaper, 24 April 1977, p5. Courtesy of Stuart Antrobus