Waiting For Letters Burnfoot

Betty Tindal

My brother had been home on embarkation leave, so we knew he was abroad, but not where. Having had no news from him for ages, my parents decided to go looking for letters and especially news of him.

This was not easy as we lived in the Fintry Hills, our nearest neighbour about three miles away over an unmade-up road. The hill garron Scottie was harnessed. Mum went as well as dad since it was foolish to go alone in such conditions.

Scottie was not saddled just the panniers put on and Mum, wearing an old pair of Dad's trousers walked in the footsteps made by the pony and my Dad.

I would have been seven and my sister Mary eleven, and it must have worried them, leaving two young lasses alone in such an out of the way spot. We had been 'cut off' for more than a week now. They intended getting an accumulator and wireless dry batteries so we could try to get some news.

We went importantly about our tasks, but our confidence dwindled as the day wore on. Mary could milk so we had no trouble with the cow, me carrying water and hay so she'd be all right till evening. We also carried in water for the house, and sticks and coal for the range. I fed the dogs and let them get some exercise, but we could not get far as there was such a depth of snow. Next it was time to feed ourselves, and scrape a bit clear to feed the hens before shutting them in again, as the light began to go. We trimmed the wicks and filled the lamps and the byre lantern, as we wanted a guide for the parents to come home to.

About now panic was setting in, although we knew Mum and Dad could not have been back successfully already, we worried about their welfare. No wonder this day sticks in my memory. They were welcomed on their return as if they had been to the North Pole.