War Horses

Before my grandfather, Thomas Haley, joined the Hampshire Regiment in 1914 he drove a baker’s van for local bakery, Lowman’s. In those days, the vans were pulled by horses and the baker’s man and his horse were a team. When the war came, the men weren’t the only ones called up. Thousands of horses were requisitioned too. They were needed, not only for the cavalry, but to move supplies, equipment, guns and ammunition. When the war broke out, the army had just twenty five thousand horses. By the time the armistice was signed in 1918, four hundred and sixty thousand horses and mules had been purchased and shipped to France. The owners had little say in the matter, unless they could prove they needed their animals for essential transport or agriculture, they had to surrender them. 

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The conclusion of the camp fire tales

17 January 2017

Every Saturday morning we drive up The Avenue to the Common for parkrun and, for several weeks now, we’ve commented on the broken drinking fountain on Asylum Green, the grassy verge in the centre of the two carriageways.  Now, while we were deciding which route the Frontiersmen and their Remount horses would have taken to Portswood, I took the opportunity to take a photo of it.  Continue reading The conclusion of the camp fire tales

Stones, horses and angel wings

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1 November 2016

With our coffee finished and bearings confirmed, we left the church behind and set off through an old iron gate into the lane where I thought the ancient boundary stone should be. Research told me there was no boundary stone marked on the map here but the cryptic message and some Google Street View searching had turned up something that looked very much like one. Now all we had to do was find it. Continue reading Stones, horses and angel wings