Despite shafts of humour from his assorted comrades, with whom he spent most of his time playing football or going to the pictures, he was by now thoroughly depressed. As a final insult, his pay was clawed back to three shillings per day after which, having taken stock of his financial position, he reckoned that he had the sum of four pennies to his name!
His feelings of despair at that time were not helped by the news of the death of his beloved old dog, Don. Don had remained in Glasgow when Alf went south to earn his living as a vet; although it was a wrench to leave him, he decided it would be kinder to leave him at the home he knew. Alf’s parents had looked after him so well that he had reached the age of fifteen before finally succumbing to renal failure. Alf, who had rarely failed to ask after Don in his many letters home, learned of the news with great sadness as his mind strayed back to the countless miles the ‘old hound’ had run by his side.
As he looked out across the flat, grey landscape of Eastchurch, Alf reflected upon those happier days he had spent in the green dales of Yorkshire and on the fine mountains of Scotland. He was at a low point of his life; one that seemed to be going nowhere.
Wondering how long he would be condemned to his futile existence, Alf applied for discharge from the RAF. To his dismay, this was rejected. He was so desperate to re-start a life of meaning and hope, he re-applied. His requests were finally heeded and on 10 November 1943, to his profound relief, he left the Royal Air Force. LAC 2Wight, J. A. had completed his war service for his country. It had lasted for just under one year.
In his books, Alfred Wight wrote amusingly about those final weeks in the Royal Air Force but, in reality, they were some of the most miserable of his life. He was a reject – something that was hard to accept for an ambitious man who took a great pride in all he did.
The reading of his old letters has been a moving experience. Those to his parents during his courtship were like a cry for help and understanding, while those to his wife during his time in the RAF displayed the soul of a man torn apart by conflicting emotions. His early days in the RAF were full of expectation but, as his Air Force career began to crumble, his feelings of hopelessness became more apparent with every letter. Through no fault of his own, his attempts to serve his country in its time of need had failed but he left feeling that, at least, he had tried.
His time in the forces contrasted sharply with that of his old Glasgow chums, Alex Taylor and Eddie Hutchinson. Both had been called up into the army, and both spent years abroad – Alex in North Africa and Italy, while Eddie served his time in the Far East. They would look back on their army days with pride and satisfaction but Eddie paid a price for his. His experiences fighting the Japanese in the jungles of Burma left scars that were never to heal, and he would never again be quite the carefree lad with whom Alf and Alex had spent so many happy times in Glasgow.
His Air Force career, frustrating though it had been, left no scars on Alf; indeed, the affectionate and amusing accounts of his Air Force days that appear in his books hint that he did not consider them a total waste of time. He had met many interesting people from all walks of life and had experienced that feeling of great comradeship common to so many who have served their country in times of war.
Had he not been invalided out, his whole life could have been so different. I remember him saying to me, years later, ‘Who knows, much as I have cursed that fistula, it may have saved my life!’
On his return to civilian life, Alf still had a job. He had maintained correspondence with Donald who, with the help of Brian – albeit stillunqualified – had managed to keep the practice going and now welcomed Alf back. His days of marching, drilling and playing football were at an end. Many years of hard work stretched before him but they would be times of happiness and achievement. No longer an unwanted man, he could now restart his life as a veterinary surgeon – the life that he loved best.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
After his discharge from the RAF, Alf Wight travelled straight up to Glasgow. His parents were still living at 694 Anniesland Road, which had been rebuilt after the German air raid of almost two years before, and Joan, baby son and Auntie Jinny, from Sunderland, were staying there with them. By this time, Alf’s mother had mellowed towards Joan who had visited her in-laws twice during her husband’s time in the forces. The proud presentation of her baby to the grandparents contributed greatly towards improving the relationship between Joan and her mother-in-law, one that would become easier as the years passed by.
Alf, although so happy to be reunited with his family, was not at all well. The stress of his final weeks in the RAF, together with the pain induced by the thorough overhaul of both ends of his digestive tract, had left him in a state of mental and physical exhaustion. But he could not stay long in Glasgow; he was broke, and needed to get back to Thirsk and begin building a secure future for his family. On returning to Thirsk, he soon found that the practice had become much busier. Years later, when recalling the pain and weariness at that time, Alf remarked, ‘I had the simplest and most effective of therapies – work!’
Alf had a job in Thirsk to return to – but no home. In June 1943, while he was still serving in the RAF, Donald Sinclair had remarried and was living with his wife at 23 Kirkgate. Unable to return to live in the top rooms at Kirkgate, Alf joined Joan and her parents at their home in Sowerby.
This was no hardship for Alf. The house, Blakey View, was situated on the tree-lined front street of this attractive village whose appearance has changed very little to this day. Blakey View was not only comfortable, with a pleasant walled garden at the back, but it was conveniently positioned next to the Crown and Anchor pub and many were the pints of beer that Alf shared with his father-in-law and friends in its welcoming interior.
Donald’s marriage had come as a shock to Alf, as he had always considered his senior partner to be the archetypal ladies’ man who would never settle down. The James Herriot books depict Siegfried as full of charm and attractive to women, while Tristan is portrayed as the girl-chaser, but as an expert in the art of pursuing the fairer sex, the elder brother stood alone.
Siegfried’s housekeeper is described in the books as repeatedly telling visitors to Skeldale House that her employer was in Brawton visiting his mother. James Herriot based this fictional town on Harrogate, which was where Donald’s mother lived, but there is little doubt that she was not the only lady who enjoyed the company of the real Siegfried Farnon on his regular absences from the practice.
Donald, however, married well. His bride was Audrey Adamson and they were to remain happily married for over fifty years. She had an entirely different temperament to her husband; where he was impulsive and impatient, she was the embodiment of calm. Many considered her to be the perfect foil for the mercurial Donald.
The new marital status of his senior partner – and thus the changes at Kirkgate – was not the only difference Alf found when he returned to work. He soon discovered that the practice in Thirsk was busier than ever. One of the greatest contributors to the rejuvenation of British agriculture was Adolf Hitler, the war years having ensured that the country needed food. With both arable products and livestock becoming more valuable, farming fortunes took an upturn and, with them, those of the veterinary profession.
Alf found himself working harder and harder, and although enjoying his work despite the long hours, he soon began to feel that a major decision about his future would have to be made. As a salaried partner, he was not only working harder than Donald, but doing virtually all the night calls, and he felt that he deserved his fair share of the profits. In addition, he had no lasting security. He wanted to have a full partnership. With Donald benefiting from the increased revenue from the practice, a large gulf had opened between the fortunes of the two men and it was widening by the day.