When Sparrows Were Vermin podcast

Another money earner was sparrows. We joined the national ‘Sparrow Campaign’, and along the way earned a halfpenny a head from the farmer, and often – if our mother was fed up with the repetition – another penny or two per dozen, from local housewives for the ingredients for sparrow pie. We also joined with other lads to roam the hedgerows on winter nights – it needed to be windy and moonless – then with either clapper net, or simply a sturdy stick with the twigs left on to form a fanlike shape, one lad would walk on the windy side and tap the hedge, and at least a couple of lads on the lea side with carbide cycle lamps, would hold the net over the top as birds flew out, or simply strike them down with the branch.

I liked the net best, because we  could let out any pretty birds, although I was sometimes howled down if it was a lean night, and a particular lad’s mother was expecting enough for dinner. I got quite expert at identifying a particular bird even before it left shelter, so I could often shout, ‘Leave that one,’ even with the striking method. 

One problem that made us keep our wits about us was the blackout, for although we had permission to go ‘sparrowing’, the local Bobby would have been onto us like a ton of bricks, if he had seen our flashing lamps, and there were occasions when we doused them in fear, as German bombers droned overhead. 

There were always a lot of sparrows around the farm buildings in those days, many lived out their whole lives in the vicinity, nesting under tiles, in thatch, ivy clad walls and trees, and any nearby overgrown hedge. They were the mice of the air where the farmer was concerned. For most of the summer 

Podcast of readings by Chris Thomas from Bill Clark's autobiography 'Route and Branch'

https://archive.org/download/route-and-branch-ch-2b-podcast/Route-and-branch-Ch2b-podcast.mp3