IT MAY be difficult to imagine now, but during the Second World War, the Mid Wales countryside was host to thousands of troops from all over the world.
With so many men in one area, the Bell Inn in Llanyre, near Llandrindod Wells, became a central meeting (and drinking) place for troops stationed nearby.
June Mackintosh, of Werngronllwyd Farm, Llanyre, remembers the War Years fondly: “My mother owned and ran the Bell during the war, and we never had any trouble with the troops.
“There were thousands of young men away from their families, yet a woman could walk the streets in perfect safety,” Mrs Mackintosh told the County Times. “The troops were as good as gold.”
The soldiers made themselves useful to locals as well: “They were always offering to help out, to change a barrel, or sort out any rowdy drinkers. In return, I’d pick strawberries from the back garden or my mother would cook them baked potatoes. There was no butter, due to rationing, but they ate them all the same!
“In Llandrindod we had the Officers Training Corps known as the ‘Octu’,” recalls June. “After Dunkirk, we had the North Staffordshire Regiment who were a dream! There was a soldier called Grubby who only had one eye.
"Every time he went outside, the boys would drink the last of his pint, so he dropped his glass eye in the pint to prevent them drinking it!”
Many of the troops were married with young families, and carried pictures which they were eager to show: “We had lots of Americans in the area, both black and white, and they loved to talk about their families and show us photographs.
"I was only six when war was declared, and sometimes the Americans bought me candy.
“There was a group of soldiers staying on Pen-y-bont Common known as The Polar Bears, who had fought in Iceland. One soldier bought me back a duck egg, all the way from Iceland!”
Chris Grabham, a champion golfer and June’s father, was also called up to fight: “My father was in the Air Force, he volunteered as soon as war broke out. He said that he might as well volunteer because he would be called up in any case, as the government was taking the younger ones first and working their way up.
“He was 29 when war was declared. He wanted to go into flying, as a navigator or pilot, but they wouldn't take him because of his age, so he became ground crew. Britain at that time had very few planes, which is surprising given that our political bosses supposedly knew 1937 that it would come to war.”
Despite the fighting in Europe, farm life in Mid Wales carried on, with farmers eager to keep their sons at home to help out. It wasn’t just young men doing the work, either. June remembers helping out at Llanyre Farm: “Mr Walter Ritchie, a Scot, lived at Llanyre Farm. I would help his housekeeper Mabel to load loose hay onto a ‘gambo’, pulled by a cart horse.
“Mabel led the horse and Mr Ritchie would put the heaps of hay up onto the gambo with a pikel (two-pronged fork), and I would walk around on the hay to firm it into position. Farms in this area still relied heavily on horses, although if you travelled to more affluent areas you would see tractors in use.”
Although local farms remained much the same, Llandrindod found itself with a whole new audience for plays and dances: “In the Albert Hall they put on plays for the troops and the general public. We had two picture houses in Llandrindod, the Pavilion and another in the Ferndales building on Middleton Street. In those days we had a lot more shops in Llandrindod.
“During the war tailors came to the area, to make uniforms for the officers. The current Powys County Council buildings used to be a hotel, which was subsequently turned into a hospital for the wounded.
“There were regular afternoon tea dances down at Rock Park, which us youngsters were allowed to go to, as well as formal balls at the Pavilion.”
The Bell Inn continued to be a focal point right up until the war ended: “On Victory in Europe Day, May 8, 1945, Mum put all the spirits away, all the bottled and barrelled beer was left, and everyone went and helped themselves, no-one paid for anything that evening.
“We filled Dad’s Western Mail golf trophy with beer!”