Thomas and my Brother in law, Ged, had been asked by a farmer, Tommie Powell to clear fell a bit of coppice woodland. It was about 3 acres of mixed hardwood but mainly silver birch. Tommie`s farm was out at Llanishan. Just a small farm working a few acers of land running across a valley. The wood was situated on the far side and we had to cross a small stream to get there. Good thing was that there was a hard gravel bed to this stream so extraction of the timber with the tractor was made easier. They had already started the work, then asked me if I would like to help. This wood was cut into four foot lengths so we could load it on a trailer. Thomas had just got a very old Fergason tractor that run on TVO. The little grey fergy was going to be just fine to get this job done. When I went out there with them to start, Tommie invited us to have a cuppa with him. Going into that farm house was like stepping back a century. We went in through a door that took us into the scullery, well I think that`s what he my have called it. Flagstone floors. Then a stand pipe up against the back wall, no sink, just an hole in the floor where water could drain away, at the one side there was an home made wooden bench or table, that had a sauspan and some crockery on it. He lead us through into the living room , Where there was a lamb in a cardboard box set in front of a very old black cast iron fire range. This had an oven either side of the open fire box. Over the fire on a chain hung a big old solid cast iron kettle, chard black from the many years of being there, steam flowing from the spout . This room too had a flagstone floor, In the middle of the room a table with a scrubbed top, This was covered with pages from a news paper, no table cloths for Tommie. He got four china cups down from a dresser that was against the back wall and then made us tea in a china tea pot. No milk, no sugar, just black tea. It was a funny time we sat in the nice old winsor chairs he had and all the time there were hens (chickens) coming in and out from the yard through the scullery and into that front room. Just pecking bit of crumbs that had fallen from a loaf that Tommie had cut to make his breakfast. he cooked, made toast and baked bread on that old range all his days it never ever changed. Getting back to the work in the woods, we carried on all that day cutting and stacking. We only had one chainsaw which belonged to Thomas. Each week-end and some evenings we would be out there cutting and getting the timber lengths over to be near the road so it could be loaded to go down to Sudbrook pulp mill. Not one load ever got there. Instead it was decided that we would cut it all up for fire wood and deliver it door to door by van. This wood was hard work, plus being dangerous on a steep bank. The lop and top bits of wood was burnt on site. This was another nasty incident. Thomas was lighting the fire, he had put down an old truck tyre, poured petrol into the rim, then chicked a lite match at it. At first it started to burn but then appeared to go out. Thomas with out really thinking took the petrol can to throw more fuel on the fire. We this happened, One big flash of flames, the next thing I could see was that Thomas was on fire, the petrol had ignited and the flame come back to the can. His shirt was burning and being nylon melted onto his arms. We did manage to stop the flames, he was shaking in shock, I said lets go back to Chepstow to the hospital. At first he was having none of that. We stayed and continued working for a few minutes, But I could see he was hurting bad. So if was back in my van and off to St, Lawrence Hospital, known to locals has the Plastic hospital, this was built during the war to accommadate airmen and solders that had horrible burns and injuries. Once back to the hospital I got Thomas out of the van and we went to find someone to help. In the corridor we met a ward sister, she took us straight down to the casualty department. I was asked to go and sit in a waiting room, whilst they could see to Thomas`s wounds. Over three hours I sat waiting, then I could hear talking, very quiet at first but soon got louder so that I could hear what was being said, It was Thomas, coming back up the long corridor, he was saying, " No, no, I`m going home, you can`t make me stay here" He did not like hospitals and they wanted him to stay in, at least over night. But no, he was having none of it. So of we go home, the first thing he said to me when he sat in my van was," look at me, how the hell can I have a smoke now," his both harms had been set in plaster cast from his wrist right up to his shoulders. So he was unable to bend them. I laughed, thinking is that all he was worried about. Mind you we both smoked very heavy back then. I got him home dropped him at the door then home myself. Then next day I call in to see how he was feeling, Sandra his wife answered the door, "how is he I asked". "come in and see for yourself ", was her reply. There was Thomas sat in his chair smoking, He had got Sandra to get some tape, fix a clothes peg on the end of a bit of garden cane, just long enough for Thomas to have a cigarette fixed in the peg and being able to just hold it between his finger and thumb he could reach his mouth to smoke. That wood never got really finished, But It was a start for me, and Next day I was off to Monmouth sawmills in search of Work. I will continue on tomorrow, so please stop yawning and have a nice day.