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The following childhood memories were recalled by Roy Scutt.
The next major event in my life came at the end of the summer of 1943. It was haymaking time and I was 9 years old. Four boys were given pitchforks and we had to feed a threshing machine.
This contraption is a huge machine that separates the wheat from the straw. At the back it looks like a paddle steamer with long planks that, as the corn is fed into it, forces the corn into the machine.
Whilst trying to throw a fork load of corn into the machine I lost my balance, and although I managed to prevent completely falling into it I
managed to get my foot caught and was thrown up in the air by the paddle wheel.
We were working quite close to a stone wall and I came down on top of it. There was much pain but I was largely ignored. Later that day someone noticed that my ribs were poking through my skin and it was thought necessary to call the doctor who immediately sent me to hospital at nearby Liskeard.
My memories of the next few days are very vague but I clearly remember the day that a woman came to visit me. As soon as I saw her, I knew her face, but before I remembered who she was she came over and cuddled me.
At last, it was my mother.
After over 3 years I had forgotten I had one. I never had any feelings of great elation. I can't remember having any feelings of any description. I couldn't remember what 'home' was like. All I knew was that this may be a chance to get away from the farm.
I was in hospital for a few days. Whoever was responsible for repairing my rib cage never made a very good job of it but no one seemed much concerned.
During my hospital stay, my mother discovered the scars on my back. I told her how I got them. I never knew what, if anything, she did about it, but she said I would never go back to the farm. Strangely enough, although I had been treated like an animal, after three years, it was all I knew...........I never saw 'Titch' again..
The day I left hospital remains in my memory for all the wrong reasons. As a special treat my mother was going to show me the sights of Liskeard. Bearing in mind all I had seen for the previous three years was fields, this was indeed a treat.
I don't remember much of the town but I do remember the searchlight. I discovered much later that these were common in most towns during the war. A searchlight was like a huge torch that would shine into the night sky to try to spot enemy aircraft.
As they were of no use during the day they were manned by only one soldier. The actual light had a diameter of about 10 feet and it stood on a circular platform about the average turning circle of a car.
As we approached the platform, the soldier beckoned us up and proceeded to show us around. I was fascinated with all the handles and knobs and spent a while pushing and pulling everything. Mum and the soldier had disappeared around to the other side of the platform.
When I had satisfied my curiosity, I walked around to the other side of the platform and there was my mother locked in a passionate embrace with a soldier she had known for less than 15 minutes. I was only nine but I didn't like it and have never forgotten it.
What would have happened if I hadn't been there? They tell me that during the war, when you could be dead the next day, people behaved accordingly. Not with your son a few feet away.
Continued in part 5. Roy Scutt, 2001
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