The Tractor Comes
NextBackFarming routine is governed by the seasons and by the prevailing weather. In the autumn, the fields would be ploughed and left over the winter to weather in the frost and snow. Horses had by now disappeared to be replaced by the old 'Standard' Fordson. Lovingly known as a paraffin burner, this probably did more to revolutionise farming before and during the war years, than anything before or after. I guess it had the same effect on Henry Fords bank account as well, as most farms seemed to have at least one or two knocking about. DWP 432 was painted a really nice shade of wartime agricultural green. Best approached around ten in the morning, she would sit quietly waiting your arrival, a strong smell of paraffin and leaking engine oil pervading the adjacent airspace. She really thrived on tender loving care, the first chore being to fiddle with the 'widdling' bit to drain off any remaining paraffin left in the fuel system. A quick check that she was out of gear, a top up of petrol, up with the radiator blind, petrol tap on and round to the front. With scrap of rag in hand, the starting handle was easily dropped into the crank dog and it was chocks away with a deep sucking sound followed by Anglo Saxon mutterings as the engine kicked back in open defiance and broke your wrist. Composure was usually regained following a swift kick aimed at the nearside front wheel. This usually resulted in a twisted ankle and associated pain for the remainder of the day.
After about ten minutes of unproductive swinging, remedial action of a technical nature was required. The plugs came out for inspection. These would be sooty and saturated, and required the use of a spanner usually found in the toolbox on the side of the engine, but not there now as you had used it yesterday as a hitch pin and lost it up the back end of the field. Having managed to wrench the plugs apart with anything that came immediately to hand, the remedy lay yet again in the infamous boiler. The centre cores must be laid out like little soldiers on the edge of the firebox to be violently toasted by the hungry flames. Now this could also be fraught with danger as it was not unknown to accidentally knock one or more of them into the raging fire, thus necessitating another half hour rummage to find spares. Having got the wretched things back together, bandaged a few burnt fingers and re-assembled the engine to 'as it left the factory' state, the starting process commenced again until with a loud explosion the engine exploded into life and was ready to go with a horrendous grinding of gears.