FARMING AND FOXHUNTING 



it will be generally admitted that Kitchener laid 

 the foundation for our final victory. Will historians 

 give the former a clean bill when later they sum up 

 the troubles of Europe ? I hardly think so. I 

 often wonder what his mind reflects when he ponders 

 over his early handiwork, sitting safe in his castle 

 at Doom. Enough, it is not my work to write 

 politics, let's get back to the countryside where I 

 shall be more sure of my subject. 



To get the first stripe in the life of a soldier is a 

 most exhilarating moment. You begin to feel that 

 you are a man of authority. I remember going out 

 to spend the evening at Stallpits Farm with James 

 Lawrence, brother of the one at Idstone, a man full 

 of good humour and one who loved a joke, saying, 

 " Charles, have you heard the story of the old lady 

 who had a son in the Army ? The good old soul 

 was proud of her serving son and particularly so 

 when he obtained his first stripe. On being asked 

 what rank he now held, she replied : ' Well, I am 

 not quite sure whether it's a Corporal or a General, 

 but I am sure it's a 'ral, and I am proud of it, he's 

 a good boy.' " 



One or two more camps on Salisbury Plain 

 brought soldiering days to a close. Just about this 

 time Jordan's Farm, situated at the Wanborough 

 end of the Plain, was handed over to me from the 

 late Albert Deacon, which gave me another 250 

 acres of arable land to tackle. I could hardly expect 

 my father to carry too big a burden whilst I was 

 away soldiering. Consequently, with many regrets, 

 I retired on the rank of senior sergeant. 



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