18. Major Clark
The kitchen garden and the grounds generally were under the charge of Major Clark. With his upright strut, wrinkled face, eyes that seemed to gaze into the distance, white tufted hair and perpetual pipe, he looked like Kipling colonial. I think we would have had to call him “Major” or “Colonel” even if he had not been one, but Betty Rayment assured me he was a genuine Major, still called up when Caldecott first knew him. He was benevolent in manner, if slightly remote. If we were working in the potting shed, he would periodically look in, inspect what we were doing, clap his hands together and say “Now!” This sounded exciting and we wondered what was coming next. Instead, he turned on his heel and went on to the next place, and presumably said “Now!” there too. When I first arrived, he had an ancient old truck called “Arabella”. In terms of speed, he could have walked faster himself, but it still had the strength to cart a few logs around. After it gave out, it was replaced by a tractor and trailer. A contemporary of mine, Orlando Lacey, was helping out in the garden at the end of his last summer term and was allowed to drive the tractor so long as he did not go onto the public roads (he had no licence). He gadded about swimmingly to begin with, then an emissary reached the Major in the potting shed. “Orlando’s had a bad accident on the tractor. He went into the garage door and they’ve taken him to hospital with a broken arm”. The Major took the pipe from his mouth, always the prelude to an important pronouncement. “Yes”, he rasped. “BUT WHAT’S HE DONE TO THE DOOR?”
The Major had two assistants when I arrived. Mr. Link was an elderly man of few words, though usually kind ones. Willy Engels had come to England as a German refugee. He retained a strong native accent, but what fascinated us was his vocabulary. “You get dat bugger and I get de udder bloody bugger”, were his instructions during a rat hunt. Later, a younger man joined the garden staff. He was tall and rather handsome in a rough-looking way. I forget his name. I do not think he can have done much actual gardening, since he was always in the kitchen, cracking jokes to the ladies.