Blog Day 170 - 11 September 2020
FIRST LOVE
Joe looked across the newly ploughed fields towards the dark blue mountains on the horizon and knew that this would be last time that he looked upon this scene for possibly some years to come.
He slowly
unhitched the horses from the plough and started the long walk home to the
family farmhouse thinking about the future but understanding that this was
beyond his control and was in the hands of far greater powers than his.
As he walked
across the fields barely conscious of the bucolic smell of the horses his mind
turned to the dance that was being held in the town hall this evening to
farewell him and the other dozen or so local boys who were leaving the district
tomorrow. Joe was excited as Becky would be at the dance and this would be the
last time that he would see her for who knows how long.
After
stabling the horses Joe walked through the settling dusk towards the warm light
glowing from the kitchen window of the old farm house. As he went into the kitchen his father, who
was also called Joe was sitting at the table in his Sunday best reading the
paper by the light of the kerosene lamp.
“Hello dad” said Joe “you are looking smart, finished the north forty
today”. As he said this he walked across
to where his mother was standing and gave her a peck on the cheek. In his own
excitement Joe failed to see the look of sadness in his mother’s eyes. “As you are both ready to go I will have a
quick wash and get changed” said Joe. Joe’s
father replied “while you are doing that I will harness the horse and get ready
for the drive into town for the dance”.
The drive
into town was about half an hour and was conducted in comfortable silence with
each of Joe and his parents lost in their own thoughts. The drive took them past the pub where things
were already looking a bit lively, “might be a bit of trouble in there tonight”
said Joe’s dad, “I hope that they don’t bring it to the dance” replied Joe.
As they
approached the town hall they could hear the sound of the local four piece
orchestra tuning up and see the throng of people entering by the main
door. Many of the women carried a plate
for the supper to be served later in the evening.
Joe jumped
off the buggy and ran towards the door leaving his father to tether the
horse. As he walked into the hall he observed
that it had been decorated in patriotic bunting, with a portrait of the king over
the stage flanked by the Union Jack and the Australian flag. He also saw Dave and Bob, both of whom would
be joining him tomorrow on their journey into the future. “G’day boys” said Joe “excited about
tomorrow?” he asked. They both replied in
the affirmative but by then Joe’s attention had wandered as he looked around
the hall for Becky.
Joe had
known Becky, and her family, for what seemed like all of his life, she was the
daughter of a local farming family. At
seventeen Becky was the youngest daughter in a family of seven children and her
father, Bert, took a very proprietary interest in her. Joe and Becky had gone to school together,
attended Sunday school together, put worms in each other’s gum boots and had
grown up as mates in a group of children from around the town and district. However over the last few months the
relationship between them had changed and there was now less putting of worms
in gum boots and more of holding hands and stolen kisses when they could manage
to be alone.
As Joe
looked around the hall he saw Becky’s mum and dad standing with a group of
people waiting for the dance to start.
He gave them wave and continued to scan the hall for any sign of Becky. Then he saw her, she was with a group of her
friends helping put the supper plates away. Joe gave her a wave and she shyly
responded.
Joe stood
with his mates waiting for what seemed to be an eternity for the music to
start. When the band started playing the
music for the first dance Joe walked over to where Becky was standing with her
friends and asked her to dance with him.
Naturally Becky agreed and they made their way onto the dance
floor. As they moved around the floor
they made small talk, neither prepared the broach the subject of Joe’s
impending departure.
After a
number of dances the band leader announced that the next dance would be a
progressive pride of Erin. Knowing full
well that most of the people in the hall, including Becky’s father, would be
engaged in this dance for some time Joe and Becky took the opportunity to slip
out of the side door of the hall.
Sitting on a
bench outside of the hall they shyly held hands and talked about the weather,
the price of fat lambs and how good the harvest would be this year. Eventually Becky looked Joe in the eye and
told him how much she loved him and how much she was going to miss him. Out of her pocket she took a silver locket on
a stainless steel chain and gave it to him.
Joe opened the locket and inside was a photo of Becky that had been
taken in one of those new photo booths at the show earlier that year. Joe put the locket on the chain around his
neck and said “I will keep this around my neck, it will be a constant reminder
of you and what I have waiting for me when I come home”.
Realising
the music in the hall had stopped and hearing the clatter of plates as supper
was being served they decided that they had better go inside before they were
missed and somebody came looking for them.
Joe kissed Becky lightly on the lips and holding hands they quietly went
back into the hall.
Joe and the
rest of the boys caught the train to the city early next morning. Unlike the earlier trains taking the boys
from the town the local band no longer played patriotic tunes and there were no
speeches from local dignitaries. The
only people at the station were the stoic faced fathers and mothers dabbing
their eyes with cotton handkerchiefs.
Joe, aged
18, was killed at a place called Messines Ridge in Belgium on 7 June 1917. As was the practice, his meagre personal
possessions including the silver locket on a stainless steel chain were sent to
his mother. Joe’s mother opened the
locket and was not surprised to see the photo of Becky in it. As the family and community grieved for the
loss of Joe, his mother quietly handed the locket to Becky and told her that
she should keep it as a reminder of her first love.
Like many women of her generation, Becky or Aunt
Rebecca, as she was known to her numerous nieces, nephews and grand nieces and
nephews never recovered from the loss of her first love and never married or
had children of her own. She wore the
locket on the stainless steel chain around her neck and close to her heart for
the rest of her life.
13 October 2014
It was interesting and very common for so many women during TGW. But I am still working on Bucolic, not sure that it is a word that reflects the smell of horses but hey, I'm not a English teacher. You are a man of amazing talents especially during ISO. And your reporting over the last week or so has been very good. Not a great deal of bias coming through and quite good assessments of the overall picture. I am now looking forward to see the outcome of the election in Qld. I get the impression most of the Premiers may not hold there seats but then again, I have been known to be wrong in the past. Not very often just sometimes ha ha.
ReplyDeleteI think bucolic refers to the rural life generally and horse smells would certainly be part of that. You are right about the election being interesting, would you want to win at the moment, a bit of a poisoned chalice I would think.
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