Thursday, August 15, 2013

ARGENTINE FOSTER FAMILY TREE (Part 4) THE FOSTER/TUDURI OLIVES

SADDLE BUMS

Over the years I ponder on the issue on the different “estancias”I have lived or visited and I come to the conclusion that, in a way it was my elder brother  Alan Digby (1928-1999) that influenced, partly, the way I faced my life.

Digby was five years my senior; and our relationship used to go from extreme moments of great friendship to near killing each other.

At times he could be a bit of a bully, but when I grew to the age of 14 we had a real free for all, after which long friendship was established.

In a way I really admired him for at 14 he was already working as an office boy in Blue Star Line, and as  war was at its height he would bring officers from aboard ship to spend week-ends at home. I met quite a number of very interesting young men, some in their uniforms which highly impressed me and I have, some where in my archives a little note book where I have the address and signature of many of them.

At the age of 17 Digby volunteered but was put on stand -by as he was not the proper age. However when he was about to hit 18 telegram came that no more volunteers were accepted as the war with Germany was coming to an end.

So, looking for new experiences he moved on to Moore McCormack, then to Panagra, and later to Chadwick Weir where he worked together with his school friend Dick Welch. Both Digby and Dick took part in a pantomime put up to raise funds for the War Fare, “Cinderella” at the old “Politeama theatre” on Avda.Corrientes. They were the front and back part of a horse. The pantomime was a big hit.

Then Digby suddenly changed and in looking for adventure he tried his hand working in the “camp”.

His first was far and beyond, in those days, in Guaminí. And later to a nearer estancia between Monte and Las Flores (Prov.of Bs.As.)

However a few months later he was called to comply with his military service…

When discharged he took a job at Estancia “La Sofía”  near Santa Elena ,( Entre Rios) working for Mr.Victor Geibert, married to Melba Morgan, whose brother Jackie went to school with me.

By that time (1950) I was also working. It started as a summer job during school holidays but I finally decided to keep on working. My first job was as office boy in Cooper Brothers-Lloyds Agents.(1947)
Quite a coincidence as my Grandfather Foster had been Lloyds Agent in Madagascar until 1907.
There I met wonderful people like Max and Humphrey, and Norman and Basil. I enjoyed the experience and thanks to them I was able to, whilst delivering letters and invoices, explore the city of Buenos Aires, mostly traveling in the good old trams which in those days only cost $0,10.

However, my Father had a very good friend that also worked in the Great Southern Railway, “Ginger” Ledbetter.

When the railways were nationalized and slowly but surely the old personnel were made to leave. “Ginger” became the personnel manager of the Anglo-Argentine General Electric Co. (Paseo Colon & Chile)
and spoke to my Father that I may work for G.E.C….    The opportunity was too good not to accept.
So in 1949 I started working at G.E.C.

The push this Company had was fascinating. And I met some very nice people, many war vets from whom I received many good advise (I still recall the names of most of them: Messrs. James Dudley –Smith,, Lavarack, Libert, Houlder Pollachek, Kent, Paul, Jack Lenton, etc.) After a time as office boy I was given a most interesting job as Administrator of the Technical Office running the invoicing and getting the necessary materials for the outside jobs that were done. My bosses were Mr. R.A. Duncan and a Mr. Carter, (Mr. Carter I met again years later (1967) when I was living in Cinco Saltos (Rio Negro)      I really enjoyed my work and companionship. I also recollect my long chats and advices received from Miss Martha Glenny.
(As a remembrance of old days when you go by the old building in the corner of Paseo Colon and Chile you will see, still stamped on the wall “Genalex” – G.E.C.)

1950 was also the year that together with Charlie Dodds road down on our horses to Rio Salado (400 Kms.) as depicted in other write-ups under the titles of “Santa Catalina” and “A tribute to friends”

And that adventure always kept “camp life• in sight….

And it came that my brother Digby invited Dad and me to visit the Estancia in Sta. Elena.(Entre Rios)

The trip up there was an adventure in itself.  With Dad we took the train to the city of Sta. Fé, we had already been invited to dinner at relatives of my Mother, where we had a good time and departed.

We had to wait till 4 a.m. to be able to get on “La Sarita”

“La Sarita” had been, in her younger days, a naval ship. I seem to remember it had been an ice-breaker.
And she sailed from Sta.Fé at 4a.m. and stopped at Paraná, Hernandarias, Sta.Elena and La Paz.

The trip up the Parana river was another fascinating experience with those high banks on the Entre Rios side and that wide stream of river, the Paraná, flowing by.

We arrived at Sta.Elena port and Digby was waiting for us in a Dodge 1928 (not many cars available in those days).   So we drove on the earth road up to the estancia where we met Melba and Victor Giebert and his uncle Don Nicanor. Who took on with my Father right away as, he was, also, a very keen fisherman.

We spent two wonderful weeks, Dad and Don Nicanor fishing, Digby and I riding excellent horses and rounding up cattle, together with young jovial “peones”. The foreman was quite a character:
: He rode a strong heavy criollo horse very well saddled that had a large medallion on his chest. His home consisted of four poles and a roof.    In many provinces they have the habit of putting nick-names, and I was so thin and tall in those days, that I received “Alamo Seco” .And I thought: someday I will write a book and call it “Dry Alamo”.

We went into Sta.Elena quite often and taken on a tour round the Packing House and several evening s we spent at the Stelna Club.  That was the time I met my friend and school mate Jackie Morgan for the last time.

I was also surprised when we went out fishing to another area of the estancia on horse back, how well my Father rode…. I had not seen this before and had never heard him comment on the issue. The only nearest thing, I retain, is a photograph he and his sister (he was 10) on a donkey in Eastbourne where my Great-Grandmother lived..

And so we returned back home and to our jobs…. .1951 was a year of changes.  Dad was finally “requested
 to give up his job at the Southern Railway.  And once again “Ginger” Leadbetter came to the rescue and Dad started work at G.E.C. First as assistant to the Accounting Manager, Mr. Oliver, and a year later when Mr.R.A. Duncan became Managing Director, Dad became his assistant.

It was during this year that I spent my summer holidays at estancia “Las Cortaderas” in Achiras (Cordoba).
Together with Charlie Dodds, Jim Risso and Peter Wilson we caught the train to the town of Achiras and there were met by Sterling Bridger who took us to the “estancia” Las Cortaderas which was a “camp” fit to spending holidays riding and working camp. It was owned by the Bridger family and we met a lot of other youngsters, having a very good time.   We were able to swim as there was a stream near by that had been damned to be able to allow the necessary depth to dive into.  Our return was, also, by train but we were driven to the town of Rio Cuarto (Cordoba).  

 From left to right:   Mr.Bridger´s truck; Riding camp;Jim Risso. ;swimming pool; land sites, Derek and Charlie.
                            
The other novelty, in G.E.C., was that due to strong recommendation of the engineers of the Technical Office I started studying once again, at night, to get through my High School.

Although I got through the first year and started 2nd.year in 1952…the “camp bug” had taken its toll.

So I walked all the way from my office to Cangallo 315 where the offices of Argentine Estates of Bovril were and I was interviewed by Mr. Holmes. When my wishes were explained, to work for Bovril, in some “camp” in Sta. Elena in came Mr. Paterson and I was informed there were, at the moment, no vacancies at Sta. Elena … but there was a place at an estancia in the province of Corrientes where I could work until there was an opening in E.Rios.

So I accepted the challenge and I got my marching orders.

I returned to G.E.C. and explained the circumstances to Mr. Duncan and although he inquired if I was sure what I was doing he let me go.

Same happened with my Father, he was not happy to see another son going away, but relented.

So a few days later I boarded the old river boat “Bruselas” which still had a back paddle. When boarding I saw many strange people with big hats, some in “bombachas” and boots, half chewing, half smoking cheroots.

My Parents together with my aunt Letty came to say goodbye… The “Bruselas” Blackstone motors started chugging away and we started moving… the boat started up river.. From far away I could see my Father waving his hat until we turned into a curve and the picture disappeared.    

 The people on board were nice companions and one of the passengers was General Velazco, governor of the Province of Corrientes at the time.

On the second day sailing, at 2 a.m., we arrived to the city of Goya (Ctes.). So I loaded my gear, which included my saddle, reins, etc., and took a taxi to Hotel Sportman in front of the main plaza.

During the morning, having breakfast, amongst the people I met were four salesmen that represented “Colgate, Palmolive” smartly dressed in black suits. 

At 12 o’clock I caught the train that was to leave me in the town of Saladas.

I had the idea trains would be same as in long-distance and would have a restaurant. Unfortunately not.
However, in the same coach were my friendly traveling salesmen, whom had bought a cooked barbecue and so I was invited to share with them. Which, of course, I did.

After four hours journey we arrived at Saladas.


Town of Saladas (Corrientes)  1952



The town was quite attractive and the housing was much higher than the earth roads… This had an important reason, for that same afternoon we had a very strong storm and the water flowed through the streets with great force and as soon as the storm was over the water drained immediately.

I stayed at the local hotel, waiting for John Davy, the administrator of the “camp” who would be coming to look for me.

It all looked so wild, accustomed to the province of Buenos Aires. I noticed the local policemen wore “bombachas”, alpargatas, military tunic, a short sword and revolver, and a slanted cap and broad moustache.

The morning milkmen were young boys on horses with side bags with liter bottles of milk that were delivered at homes and bars.
Everything looked very strange.
At the hotel I had met a Sr. Speroni and a retired doctor, with an English surname that I cannot remember whom both had camp in the area. They were both dressed in the local “camp” fashion, but the doctor had an excellent tweed sport coat.

Finally, that evening John Davy arrived in his Ford 1935 and next morning we parted towards the estancia 70 Kms, away from Saladas.

  On our way I saw a picture I will never forget: As we drove on with Don Juan through the open camps appeared a tall elderly gentleman, with thick, long, white hair, well trimmed beard and mustache, riding a beautiful black horse and the riders attire was also all black, including his large sombrero. He was carrying a .22 Winchester rifle and was shooting partridge. It came to be that he was another Sr. Speroni, brother to one I had met in the town.

Another person we crossed on the road came driving a “Land Rover” through the rough ground and stopped for a chat was a Mr. Thom.

Estancia “Caiman” (1952)

“Caiman” was a “camp” over 20.000 Hect. Situated between the towns of Saladas, Concepción and Mburucuyá in the province of Corrientes.

The owners of the estancia were the Madariaga family and rented by Bovril (later bought by Bovril)

The camp was divided in 6 big paddocks of around 4000 Hects.each. All paddocks had different landscape:

          “Ibapoí:” Was surrounded with palm trees and small lagoons (similar to the Palmar of Colón (Entre Rios.), the earth had a reddish colour. Many palm trees had ant nests some as high as two meters called “Tacurú. (years later, after having visited the provinces Formosa and Chaco there is a fringe of the same type of palm tree that enter Corrientes continues all the way to the Palmar of Colon, disappears in the Uruguay River, continues through Uruguay to disappear in the Ocean, and so they say to appear, once again, on the coasts of Africa, (true?) 
                           This was a lovely sight and it contained 600 wild horses.


          “ Castillo and Medio” were marshy paddocks as they were part of the “estero Basualdo “which was part of the Iberá system.

           “Arazaté”    : Totally different. It was good grazing ground, surrounded by lagoons crowded with “Carpinchos” and in certain areas very closed jungle where you could see monkeys (Carayá).  I know there were “yacarés” around, but rarely saw one, and small, at that. What I did see were, at different times “Curiyú” snakes (A water snake that could reach five meters long) (In some estancias and especially in the islands in the Paraná river they had them in the barns to kill vermin.)       

            “Mbatará”:    Again, totally different the previous.. Marked by red, sandy slopes and another variety of small palm trees.

              The estancia house was the typical “U” building seen in many “camps”

              About 2 Km from the house there were the cattle pens. They were over 100 years old and they were construed with very packed logs, so much so that it looked more like an 19th century fort against Indian attacks.

              The “estancia” had, I seem to remember about six thousand head of cattle, all Herefords.
             
 There were quite a variety of wild animals, “ñandú”, wild donkeys, monkeys, vizcachas, snakes, foxes, enormous amount of crows.( you could tell when some animal had died for they flew from the forest near  the lagoon that stood near the main house.) On the banks of this lagoon was buried one of the Madariaga
brothers, but I do no remember if he drowned or if he was eaten by pirañas.

The “camp” personnel:   The ones I most remember were:

Administrator: John Davy, then 28 years of age. Ex-St.Alban´s College.
Assistant Derek R.Foster, then 18, also Ex-St.Alban´s College.
Forman: Ramirez
Assistant Forman: Facal
Farm handsPolí Gauto – very good horseman, and like most of the young workers a good
horse-breaker, in the cruel ways fashioned in those days. He was also good at
working raw-hide making lassos, reins, etc.
Asís Miño – was then 80 years of age, very good to work on horse-back. Had
driven a carriage in the city of Corrientes around 1900.

Agustín Aguirre (Agüicho) – I do not know what age he was, but he was very
special: he dressed in the typical way of most: bombachas, chiripá, alpargatas
canvas puttees, big spurs tied with raw-hide to his ankles. As most carried at
            his a sheath with three knives : a bayonet (who can tell from what revolution)
and two more knives for different purposes.
He was good company whenever we rode the camps together.  And had 
numerous thrilling stories to tell.

Very few of this outfit spoke Spanish using mostly guaraní.

The evening that we arrived at ”Caiman”, during diner JD informed me that as from next morning we would be riding through the camps so that I become familiar with outlay of the land.

So, early the following morning, after breakfast, we walked to the horses pen.  There, on their horses, were both foremen and ten “peones”  JD introduced me to all and we went to climb our horses.

When I saw the horse allotted to me I saw a big fat nag where my “Trooper saddle” could hardly be seen.

My feelings were of dismay, frustration and indignation. I stared at everybody and all were very serious… so I caught on it was one of the many camp jokes that are applied to “greenhorns”

I kept my judgment, climbed the horse and away we all went…. All that week with JD we covered all  “Caiman”, palm trees, lagoons full of carpinchos, marshes, inspected cattle, rode through the jungle areas and where to cross the lagoons..

As to horses after two days of riding I started to receive a string of magnificent horses a total of six
Varying from jet black to grey and then to bay-roan and I was left to roam the camps by myself.
However, JD had instructed the foreman to keep an eye on me as to not come to any harm. 

All work was done on horse back. We not only drove cattle into the pens to dip against tick and other vermin but most times we had rodeos trooping cattle against lagoons where most action took place:
dehorn, castrate, brand and cure and parted the heifers from the steers and the old cows.

Although, all this was tiring, it was good fun: We used to take it in turns:  some rode round the cattle to keep from straying, which after a few hours, becoming rather boring,  we use to let some steer run away so that we may chase them back to the rodeo.

The other part of the work was done in couples. With your partner one had to get the calf by the tail and the other with thumb and index in their jaw and the other hand on the ear, turn its head and at the word of “Va” the calf was down and rapidly legs tied with raw leather throngs so that all the above jobs mentioned took place.

This kind of work I only saw done in Corrientes. Later on at estancias in Balcarce and then in the Pre-cordillera in Tucuman seeing the men working  away with their lassos and wasting time I showed them how quickly work could be done this way.    
Meanwhile, other hands, either on foot or on their horses would lasso the cows to be parted.

By midday a barbecued lamb would be ready so we were well fed downed with mate and right away again on our horses and back to work. Except on warm weather where we slept a siesta on our sprawled recado

It was tiring work but got back to the camp house with a most enjoyable day.

I had my own frights during my days in “Caiman” and both happened in the same paddock “Arazate”
One fine morning riding my black and galloping round the lagoon my horse suddenly gave a surprisingly jump to a side.  We had just passed by a “Curiyú” snake which was sunning by the coast of the lagoon, 
I thought it was about 3 meters long. However when I mentioned the matter I was informed that it was on the small side (?)

Another morning same horse and same paddock, it was becoming late to be at the main house for lunch and I decided to cut across the lagoon, when on the bank, about to get in, the horse balked, I decided he would not get away with it, so I spurred him on, we waded in and about two meters from the bank the horse just gave in, I could not know what was happening until it dawn in me that we were in a swamp and we were slowly sinking. Horse would not go either back nor forward. After fast thinking I took the left rein in my hand and pulled as hard as I could until I was able to get the horse to turn his head, once this was achieved,
with my whip I hit him hard on his right cheek.  The horse leaped up and in two jumps we were once more on dry land.  The horse was covered in white sweat so I got off, and we both had a rest. Once the horse had calmed down. I rode back to the house.     This was an experience that taught never again to force a horse when in doubt.

I arrived at the house and I mentioned the issue to JD. Who gave his excuses for not mentioning there were certain dangerous spots and should always cross on certain parts. 

Another surprising fright came in the following way: On my arrival at the ranch near the offices there was a smart horse grazing with his halter and tied with a long lasso. Every time I came out from the office or my room the horse would perk up to look at me. So I approached him and caressed him for a while, all of a sudden he tried to bite me. This was not very friendly… However JD later mentioned that the horse was being tamed.  So another morning I went up to him again and as I neared he charged at me. I covered my face with one hand and fortunately with the other hand I was able to reach his halter and stop his charge, we remained in that position for some time waiting who would let loose first. Finally I was able to walk away quite calmly.

During the time I spent in “Caiman” only twice went into Saladas with JD. If not most of the time was spent at the estancia.  Week-ends could be long and most Sundays the only thing to do was to saddle your horse and go out on a long ride.

Saturday morning could be most interesting as it was the day to change the horses used during the week.
Therefore, one of the men drove about 60 horses towards the lagoon, once there he would un-saddle, strip himself to his underwear, mount his horse bare-back and with a long pole drive the remuda to bath swimming through the lagoon. When this was achieved the horses were driven into” Arazaté” for their weekly rest. (Unfortunately there are no photos of this impressive moment)

Meanwhile, the other men drove in the fresh horses, for use the coming week, and they were formed with their rump towards the pen, one beside the other, and inspected for possible cuts or hoof problems. Then left free till the Monday.

Referring to horses, during my stay, twice we brought to the pens the wild horses in “Ibapoí”.  This was an adventure all by itself. Being in the paddock where were all the palm trees were to drive 600 horses was a fascinating feat of driving our horses at full speed between the palm trees and lagoons avoiding the possibilities of crashing or falling into a lagoon.

 Once in the pen the sight of 600 wild horses with long mains, trying to escape, the kicking and biting amongst themselves, together with in-fighting were a sight to have filmed for I never will see a similar situation again.   One horse broke his front leg and was quickly disposed by slitting his throat with a knife.

Then, the rest, were all passed through the dip trough against tick and returned to their paddock.

The second time this adventure occurred was to part 50 horses that were to be trooped to other estancias of Bovril. The first stop was in Esquina (Ctes.) and although I begged JD to let me join the trip there was no way.
.    
JD had, on occasions, to travel down to Bovril´s offices in Sta. Elena (Entre Rios). At one time he went off informing he would return on the following Tuesday. The boring Sunday came along and in the evening I saddled up and went for a ride…..   Arriving at one end of the estancia near the road that went to Mburucuyá I spotted a “boliche” (pub) pertaining to a man called Tasso. So I tied my horse to the rail and entered – although I knew none of the people there I was very welcomed. So I was offered a drink of caña. Now the custom was to be served caña in a large glass, you took your sip and passed it round as you do with mate.

Well, the evening turned to night, men arrived with guitars and accordion, and played away, people danced and the caña kept on flowing, until, I decided, it was time to return home. I got on my horse and very merrily, singing away, I arrived at the house and much to my surprise JD had returned.

We had a quiet dinner, hardly speaking and departed to sleep. During the night I woke up and thought I had a toad in my mouth and I must say I was feeling rotten. So I went and had a very cold shower, back to bed, only to get up, once again for another cold shower.

After breakfast and at the office, where I was still feeling quite rotten is where JD gave me a good ticking off…

During the months I remained at the estancia I never returned to Tasso´s Pub again.

One day we started seeing cattle branded on their cheek. So JD reported the incident to the local Federal Police. During the next week-end the police chief and his assistant came along to check on the issue. During dinner we spoke general matters and when I mentioned the agricultural university at “Santa Catalina• in Lavallol the officer informed me he had studied there before joining the police force.

One hot afternoon I was riding camps and on one of the roads, from far away, I could see a sight that was not familiar to me, as I approached I recognized two women on their horses, they were riding, as was the custom in Corrientes in those days, side saddle. When I got to them they were something out of this century.
One of the ladies was very old and really looked like a mummy. She was very tall, and sat very straight on her horse. Her dress was white and long to her small boots and had, at the hem a wire ring. It was the mode of the 1900. She had on a wide silk hat.
Her left hand held the reins and her right she had an open parasol. Her face was quite ancient, but she had sparkling eyes and a very sweet smile. The other woman was her “lady in waiting”. As we crossed we stopped and interchanged greetings.   Then the lady asked me if I was Sr. Madariagas son Soon the chat came to an end and they kept their ride.  If I knew who this magnificent lady was I have completely forgotten over the years.  


The months went by and hard wild work kept on…….
 Then we were visited by two Bovril Managers: Mr. Mitchell and Mr. Salmon. After e few days inspecting the camp they returned to Santa Elena.

The next day after breakfast JD informed me that I had been transferred to an Estancia “Vizcacheras” in Santa Elena. Although that had been my object I received the news with mixed feelings… I had become accustomed to a lonesome wild life.

However there was nothing I could do but follow orders.

JD drove me to the town of Empedrado and after lunch arrived at the port the ship “Ciudad de Buenos Aires”, JD and I said farewell and I climbed aboard. I never saw JD again in my life. Although I occasionally heard about him (He died, I believe, in Corrientes in 2010). I am very indebted to him for his kind treatment and advice.

The river boat approached port at 2p.m and arrived in Sta. Elena at midnight..

SANTA ELENA (1953)

The town of Santa Elena (Entre Rios) is on the Paraná River and was the head of Bovril’s establishment´. There stood the packing house which slaughtered cattle during certain times of the year industrializing many products mainly the famous Bovril´s Meat Extract of world known to most families. The Manager of all this outfit was Mr. Ewence.

There were many houses with lovely gardens, the Stelna Social Club with its golf course and Company’s Management.
It was really a well organized company in its day. It had its own shops like “Casa de Comercio” where you could buy anything you needed at a reasonable price (I would say, it was, what is called today a supermarket.) The Manager was an excellent person (Mr. Simpson) whom you could get a discount and make your personal payments in monthly installments.
There was, also” a sort of company hotel for bachelors” named “Casa de Empleado” where you could stay in comfortable rooms and very good restaurant, all found and very well served by good, properly dressed waiters.

 There was also, amongst so many other things, a stable where horses were kept: and when you rode into town you left your horse to Sr. Maidana who would have it bathed, fed and stabled until it was time to depart.

As mentioned, the packing house worked partially during several months of the year. It was quite impressive to see people of all sorts come from far away, by bus, carts and horses to be able to work during the season as the pay was quite good.  The Company kept bachelors quarters for the lonesome workers and others used to put up their “rancho” (hut) together with a lady as temporary partner..  The town could get very adventurous and Saturday nights were several spots where dancing took place.

In those days the provinces of Mesopotamia (Misiones, Corrientes and Entre Rios) had no paved routs.
You could drive a car when rainy weather in Misiones as the roads were of hard red earth, you could also
drive in Corrientes as the terrain was sandy but you could not drive in Entre Rios. When it rained in Entre Rios no traffic was to be seen or heard…..the mud was so thick it would block your wheels and then you were really stuck. I believe there was a law that did not allow traffic on rainy days for it would leave such deep tracks that could only be set back to normal when a motor grader went through leveling the road.

So, as mentioned before, the “Ciudad de Buenos Aires”   arrived at Sta.Elena port near midnight. And there was, waiting for me, a porter who  helped me with my apparel and escorted me to “Casa de Empleado”

Soon after I was in my room a real downpour came down. Therefore, next morning, soon after breakfast,
one of Vizcacheras cowhands arrived on horse-back leading a second .   Young Romero waited till I had saddled my horse and off we went riding the 30 Kms. to “Camp”.  We crossed part of the estancia “La Sofía”, passed several areas of scrub-forest went up and down slopes, until we arrived to the Feliciano stream. 

There we found that the stream was flooded…. So we called to the other side where lived a retired cowhand and his job was to bring out a canoe in which to cross over, we would unsaddle, put them into the canoe and the horses (knowing they were getting home) swam across tugging the canoe to the other side, were prompted saddled again and off we continued our ride.
 
We had also arrived at Vizcacheras land.
  
The Feliciano stream comes from up North and at Vizcacheras use to meet another stream named Alcaraz and then flow into the Parana River.

ESTANCIA VIZCACHERAS (1953)

This estancia was also over 20.000 Hects.and was divided into three sections: Vizcacheras, Galpón Esquila and San Carlos. All sections were provided with pens and dips for the cattle. Also all the paddocks had been planned and wired for a special reason, as all that area of Entre Rios was considered infected by tick and by law all cattle had to be dipped every fifteen days.

Mr.& Mrs.Woodgate 
daughters Monica and Rosemary 
                                               
                                                                              Sunday ride
                                                                                 
Terry Coward


 So the work was completely different to what I had experienced in “Caiman”
and consisted namely, of trooping the cattle from different paddocks, every fifteen days, to the dip pens where at the same time all other work was done:  parting, branding, curing, etc.

The cattle were all Aberdeen Angus and there were several pedigree bulls mostly of “Charles of Guerrero.”  stock.

Actors in this experience of whom I have a good remembrance:

Manager:    Mr. Clarence Woodgate. (Vet. WW1. Saw action in Mesopotamia..) He kept us on our toes, (just like my Father.)  Married and had five daughters, Beryl, Barbara, Rosemary, Nancy and Monica
Accountant:    Mr. Holland – who, unfortunately died during that year
Second A few weeks later, Terry Coward arrived back at the estancia after complying withhis military service.
Assistant:the author.

Foreman:   Eduardo Hidalgo;was then 74 years of age. Always well dressed in his gaucho
attire and riding excellent horses. A very interesting person: When he did his military service (around 1900) he was called to the navy and to his luck he was posted to the “Fragata Sarmiento” and traveled through various countries.
Although he did not much like England, he was very proud to have been when there was Queen: Victoria.
 He did enjoy his stay in France (I’ll bet he did)
 He had most interesting stories of Buenos Aires and its camps at the beginning of the 20th century.
A few months before I arrived Hidalgo had had a bad experience:  Bringing the cattle to dip at Galpon Esquila he had a rough discussion with one of the cowhands due to having brought his dogs to the round-up, which was forbidden. The dogs frightened the cattle and these dispersed.  Whilst ticking the man off 
the man hit him on his neck and brought out his knife and charged… Hidalgo, whilst jumping backward told the man to stop, as he did not do so Hidalgo extracted his .38 revolver and fired three shots into the mans chest who with his charge slashed Hidalgos left arm from hand to elbow , ran a few meters and fell dead. Hidalgo was in jail for a short time until found that he had acted in self-defense.

Second Forman:  Vega.   He and some the rest of around 20 cow-hands were all around the age hitting 50 years. They were a good lot and good riders and during lunch at the pens, which consisted of barbecued beef downed with mate, some interesting stories were told.  Most of them agreed that the best time they had had was during their military service, for some of them the only time they ever left their area to see other territories and most of them had been taught to read and write whilst in the army.

Two other men come to my mind and were much younger than the previous set:

Albornoz:   was a hefty man about 30 years old. He had a pleasant disposition and was a good cow-hand.
His hobby was to have his horse well attired with silver studs in reins, saddle, etc. and wore silver spurs.
He finally managed to complete his hobby and one night at one of the provincial schools within the camp, where dances took place to gather funds for general maintenance, Albornoz arrived with his black horse and silver dressing…. The horse shone miles away what with the lights of the dance and a policeman had to be put on duty to look after the silver ware.
Albornoz was one of the men that used to take leave to go and work at the packing house in Santa Elena when working time came on.
He used to stay at the bachelors quarters.  One night he got into a fight with someone and finally knives came out. When Albornoz made his thrust, his best friend got in the middle of the two men to stop the fight and was seriously wounded in his midriff and I cannot remember if he survived or not. I do remember Albornoz ended in jail.

Marin- Blas:  He was a young chap that had finished his military service. He had a poker face and I never saw him smile but he was a pleasant lad.  He came in as a horse-breaker. He did well at his job for several months but one morning he brought the horse he was training to the cattle pens when we were all working dipping cattle.  The horse suddenly panicked, bucked and Marin Blas, taken by surprise, landed in the dust floor.  When lying down the horse kicked him on his head and half his scalp was cut, flopping on his ear. He was immediately driven into Santa Elena hospital where he was stitched and remained, in observation, for ten days.    When he was allowed to return to work, once again he came on his horse to the dipping pens.  He got off to tighten his saddle, so he got saddle strap, passed it through the raw hide strap and instead of pulling upwards to tighten the saddle he set his boot against the horses body and pulled hard.  The strap snapped and Marin Blas, loosing his balance knocked his head against a tree: back to hospital.
On his return, he was placed to work together with the other cow hands.

Later on we had another horse-breaker but a short time later he was bucked off and broke a leg.


On arrival at the camp I was given my quarters in a room at a very nice house where Mr. and Mrs. Holland lived at Galpon Esquila. I also met the person I was to replace by his name Restelly who left that same afternoon to his new destination. The office was on a side of the house, with a very nice garden and trees as scenery. Passing the garden you ended up on what is now route 12.
Crossing the route you had a big barn and a house where another foreman lived “Faicho” Romero and his family. He was in charge of the pedigree bulls.

As to the main house in Vizcacheras where the Woodgate family lived was another nice house very well converted into an English country stile and very comfortable. 

Crossing towards the front of the house was another building which had a front office, then followed CWs office, continued a bedroom where Assistants were quartered and then the shed where the Petter motor and batteries were placed that gave electricity to the surrounding buildings At the end of this building was the horses barn where all the saddles were kept.

The first days I was working with Mr. Holland in the offices when Barbara came to see me. We crossed the road into the pens and to my surprise, of the 50 horses parted at Caimán, 15 were allotted to “Vizcacheras”.  When the situation was explained to CW he allowed me to pick two. I picked a black and a dapple-gray.

 These were rough wild horses, when the black was set to a post; he furiously charged and broke his neck.
The other was given to the horse-bracker to tame. Months later this horse was the cause of being exempted from military service.

Soon afterwards Terry Coward arrived back to the camp having complied with his military service. And I was transferred to Vizcacheras.

Very early, most mornings, we would get on our horses and meet the cow-hands at different paddocks and drive the cattle to the pens to dip against tick. Sometimes at Esquila sections and others at Vizcacheras. The rodeo, depending of the paddock, could be quite an adventure, having to drive the cattle through the thick horny bushes: you had to be careful with your eyes. On top of our pants we wore canvass chaps (that was if you were poor assistants, for I have seen cattle men with chaps made of deer skin)
             
     If it was winter, before riding to camp, we would have a light breakfast and later in the morning mate and buns. Midday, the men would make a barbecue downed with mate. Have a short rest and continue dipping and then return the cattle to their paddock.
   In the summer months, due to the heat, we got up at 5 a.m. cooked a beefsteak downed with mate and out to camp and after lunch have a short sleep at the pens on our saddles (recados) as beds.

 When we returned to the main section we shaved and bathed and in sport clothes and tie have dinner with the Woodgate family where we spoke of several matters: politics, war, cattle, literature, etc.,

Saturday night, when we remained at the estancia, was different as we dressed in suits, Mrs. Woodgate would play the piano and we all tried singing, at which I was and am pretty poor.

Meanwhile, during some time back, my brother Digby left his job at “La Sofía” as he had a very good offer at estancia “Santa Inés”, a few kilometers passing the town of La Paz (Entre Rios). This was a model camp within the province and had excellent pedigree Aberdeen Angus cattle, a good flock of sheep, and excellent criollo horses. The buildings and houses were also excellent.

CW had a company’s car, a Chevrolet 1939, for his personal use and there was, also, a 1939 truck. (I still see a model of this truck, passing my house, every day, delivering soft drinks to surrounding houses)

Terry and I some week-ends, after work early Saturday afternoons, would ride into Santa Elena, leave our horses to Sr. Maidana´s and as we had our rooms at “Casa de Empleado” till Sunday night or early Monday morning. We kept clothes to change and socialize at the Stelna Club or at friend’s houses.

Amongst other guests at our digs was a young engineer a Mr. McCardle from the city of La Plata (Buenos Aires) who was working for Bovril. We became very friendly as he was a very pleasant person. At some time or other, which I cannot remember, he married a girl from Sta. Elena and settled either in Venezuela or Colombia.

The years passed and in 2010 at a lunch at the American Club I heard somebody was talking to a young man by the name of McCardle.  It happened to be his son, when I introduced myself and explained my friendship to his father he informed me he was, at 90, very well and living in Miami. Right away he got out his mobile phone and, 57 years later, we spoke in a most friendly way remembering me, Terry Coward and my brother Digby and life of long ago.

Although most of our work at Vizcacheras was trooping cattle, with all it entailed, and office work had to be done to send to Central Office in Buenos Aires, many other matters occurred that, not remembering the exact dates I continue my story, although not in the proper sequence.

 One night, at Santa Elena, we had dinner with Jimmy Lees – who had worked for Bovril at estancia El Quebracho – and Alan Sym Smith. They had come and bought 30 criollo horses from Estancia “El Aguará”
The following morning they were crossed to the town of Saladero Cabal in the Company’s cattle boat in the province of Santa Fe and drove the horses through that province, North of Cordoba and down the Province of San Luis and to Estancia “Las Cortaderas” belonging to Jeff Bridger near the town of Achiras (Córdoba)

 Again in Santa Elena, one warm Sunday, we rode out towards the North to visit estancia “El Malambo” belonging to the Perez Mercader family.  The idea was to see the possibility of buying some horses.
 We avoided the main route and followed, partly, the banks of the Parana River and then found a dry river bed with bush all along its sides.  This made the trip much fresher. 
The camps main houses were on top a high cliff on the Parana River but further on there was a road down to the river itself where they had a nice beach, a motorboat and one of the islands on the river was their property.
 When we finally arrived at the ranch at 11 o’clock we found we were in the middle of a party….
The Perez Mercader brothers came to give us a hearty welcome and there we sat among all the guests, first sipping mate and later came a waiter with a trolley full of different drinks and finger food.
Around 2 pm. we sat for lunch which ended at around 5 a.m. hours after devouring big variety of food.
We had an excellent time with the crowd, never spoke of horses, and drove back to S.E.,

Early, the following morning we headed from Sta.Elena back to Vizcacheras. However, this made us very friendly with the Perez Mercader and I often used to drop into their camp or meet at does in the town of La Paz at parties or at Cattle Shows.

Another Saturday we rode into S.E. to attend a party at Mr. Ewence´s home where his daughters birthday  Doreen and Margaret was celebrated and where dancing and a good time took place.

Other times my brother Digby used to come to look for us in his pick-up and take us to Estancia Santa Inés where we spent comfortable week-ends and some times drive into La Paz where Digby had a fine crowd of friends and we would all go out dancing, and in early summer mornings have a good swim in the beaches of the Paraná River. Off all the youngster of that time I remember a good friend – “Negrito”Crespo Kennedy – who became quite famous to dancers. This was due that you normally danced to Brazilian music, coupled with, quite often Chamame but this youngster, when returning from university in B.A. came up with a lot of soft jazz  to dance Cheek-to-cheek and everybody fell into this pleasant habit.

One winter night, at Santa Inés, we had gone out to shoot vizcachas together with Digby. It got very late and very cold so we settled around a small forest, but all we had for cover was our saddle blankets and a big sheep skin. .with a warm fire along side.  We both rapped up in the sheep skin and slept together… After a while I became awake very cold and it was Digby that had taken my part of the skin… I followed suit… so after he woke up we decided to saddle up and head to the comfort of the warm house.

During that year I met most of Mr. and Mrs. Woodgate´s daughters: Barbara whom I mentioned at the beginning of this story, soon after departed to Buenos Aires for her wedding. Then Monica arrived and stayed at the estancia (we casually met in 1956 down town Buenos Aires where she informed me she was going to live in Zanzibar.)Nancy, we met very shortly and never met again.  Rosemary came twice to the estancia, then left, also to marry, and went to live in Canada.  Beryl married Reverend Peter Godwin and was in charge of the Holy Trinity Church in the town of Lomas de Zamora. Where we had a very good friendship, until he retired.

 During July we had a drought with very hot days.   One afternoon, after my siesta, I went into the office,
Whilst working at my desk I noticed stillness had descended in the surroundings, where there were often hens and roosters about pecking and cackling. I looked out of the window and saw all the poultry standing very stiff. From experience, I realized a snake was about, and so a few minutes later down, creeping, in the earth road a yarará snake.  I got the broom stick and cracked her spine… it took quite some time before it died.

They say that snakes go, usually, in pairs. Two days later, whilst Monica was cooking a cake and we were chatting along, looking out of the kitchen window I noticed the same strange behaviour of the poultry.
I mentioned to Monica “There is a snake lurking” and soon between the grass approached another yarará      
Same thing, I got a broom and broke it’s spine.

Referring to snakes, I noticed, whilst at this camp, that it was the grazing horses that died bitten by snakes.

Finally, my grey horse (ex-Caiman) had been tamed and delivered to me. I rode him often but I was not happy with him. He had a “sweet” mouth but was rather difficult to maneuver I do not think he had been properly broken. One afternoon, I had saddled him with my “troopers” saddle and was galloping in one of the paddocks.   I got off to open the gate, got through, closed the gate and as soon as I set my left foot in the stirrup and was swinging my right leg the horse started to buck furiously with the unfortunate circumstance that my loose right stirrup jumped in the air and got caught at the back of my saddle imprisoning my right leg.
The horse went into a bucking spree and I held the best I could; as the horse realized he could not knock me off he, at full speed headed into the bushes where I was quite scratched with the thorns of the trees. As this trick did not work he headed, again at full speed, between the paddocks wire fencing and a telegraph post, which I was lucky not to knock my knee.   I was, by then, feeling quite tired when, suddenly the horse stopped with his legs wide open and his head nearly touching the ground. We both stayed still, I slowly slid off, holding to my saddle as my legs were very shaky.  I stood a while resting and slowly anger crept on me. So I walked the horse to where my hat had fallen, which I retrieved, mounted, was sure all was well, dug my spurs into his side and whipped his rump. He started bucking again but I kept my hold. The horse soon became tame and, although a few days later through one of the cow-hands….   I never had any further problem with him  

Mr. Woodgate had his pet dog Bobby, a Great Dane.  With Terry we discovered he was a very good dog to go out shooting partridge. So Terry bought a single barrel shot gun and Mr.Holland loaned me his. And off we went. Bobby was, indeed, very good, but he was very fast for us so we spent, our shooting Sundays:  Run, run, bang, bang, run, run, bang, bang. We became very good runners and in very good physical conditions.

During August, the army arrived on maneuvers. Battalions came from Monte Caseros,(Corrientes), Concordia (E.R.) and La Paz (E.R). Most of the two weeks it poured with rain. As Terry and I knew several officers from parties at La Paz we were invited, several times, for dinner and a game of cards (truco)
Another night Mr. &Mrs. Woodgate invited several officers to dinner which included Coronel Noel and Capitan Pastor amongst others.
On the Sunday dawned a lovely day and practice with three Krupp cannons took place. 
And, finally on the Monday all departed

Well, as December came along I started looking towards Christmas at home and returning to my studies.
Terry, also, soon departed and went to administrate Mr. Federico Garat´s estancia “La Fraternidad” in Chajarí (E.R.)   
So, soon we all said farewell, I took the buss to Paraná, stayed a few days at my Mother’s family in Paraná and Santa Fé and my pretty second cousins and later took the train to Buenos Aires and back home. (Trains still worked well in those days)

I am very indebted to the Woodgate family who made my stay, although mostly at the double, very pleasant.
I do not doubt Terry and I were the cause for Mr.Woodgate´s hair becoming premature grey as he always referred to “Those wild Assistants of mine”
As to Terry, that lives in Brazil, we have met several times over the years and we continue –now-a-days- E-Mailing the story of our own lives and families.

 -----0-----

Second part.

So I finally arrived, to my Parent’s home both broke and with out a job, only to find they were about to depart to the town of Balcarce, where my Mother’s parents lived to spend Christmas.  Fortunately I was invited to join them.

So, we caught the train, which in those days still ran well, and arrived in Balcarce on the 23rd. of December 1953.

We spent a wonderful time as for Christmas Dinner all Mother’s family were together: My Grand-Parents, my Parents, Uncle Julio (dentist) and Tía Minina from Miramar, Uncle Osman (Chemist) and Lila from Necochea, Uncle Tito and Pirucha from Dolores,  uncle Ulises from La Plata and my aunts Letty and Alida.

A most wonderful family reunion and, unfortunately, the last family get-together. 

We stayed on till the end of the year where I had opportunity to see old friends and attend parties and dances.

It also meant a change of my plans as a friend of mine offered a job, as from February, in a well known
horse stud in the area.

The sole idea of working near my Grand-Parents and with thoroughbred horses was enough to accept.  

So I got back home, got my gear and saddle, traveled to Balcarce and into the life of thoroughbred race horses.

HARAS OJO DE AGUA (1954)

This was amongst of the best racehorses studs in the country.

It stands halfway between Balcarce and Mar del Plata on route 226 amongst the beautiful scenery of the hills of the area..  You enter, southward, boarding the “La Brava” lagoon about 15 Kms. And you enter the farm.

Sierra La Bachicha taken from Sierra el Volcan


Lovely area with much history to it since pre-historical times to our latest history:  Around 1747 in what is now Laguna de Los Padres settled a group of Jesuits headed by Father Tomas Falkner.

Although many Indian tribes settled at different times in the area one Tehuelche tribe used to pasture on the banks of the Rio Negro, later in Sierra de la Ventana (Where Mr. Robert Cunningham Graham settled in 1876 and chased by the Indians a year later) and spend the winter in what is now Balcarce area. The chieftain of this tribe, Cangapol, was the culprit of turning the Jesuits away from the area.

The “Ojo de Agua” area was first bought around 1870 by a Mr. Pedro Luro and along his descendants, at the time of my arrival, was Miss María Angélica Chevalier married to Julio Victorica Roca who had been Argentine Ambassador to France a few years before.

All houses were beautifully built with many trees and flower beds in the large garden it had. The spring of delicious water provided by the “Ojo de Agua” was used for watering the whole outfit.

Within the camp was a hill which I seem to remember was part of “The Vigilancia” or  where archeological research had taken place finding many interesting peaces.

The horses lived in luxury having excellent boxes. And every early morning was most exciting to see so many horses led by their trainers trotting at the crack of dawn.

There was another area where the mares and their colts were kept all together and was fascinating to see them play and romp amongst themselves.

The other area that was very impressive was the horse’s cemetery with their headstone and names inscribed.        
At the end of the line was the headstone of the grand champion of the stud   “Congreve”(1924-1944)

Then came the building where the stallions were kept. Of the many, I only remember three “Churrinche” a very tame stallion who had been famous in the race course.

Pont L¨évêque had its own story.  He had been brought from France. During the war, as the Germans advanced, the owner had him hidden in a cellar and there had been a battle near by.  He was a vicious, dangerous horse. On stormy nights with the thunder he would kick at the walls of his padded box and wail like a band of elephants on the rampage and could be heard from my rooms. Years later I was told that he had killed his keeper.

During my stay arrived, straight from England, Aristophanes, whom I first met when being ridden by the foreman. He was to father many good racers, amongst them, I remember the names of Doria and Dorila

Cattle was also bred and much of my work had to do with it and carrying the accounting books.

However, I had time to ride to the top of the surrounding hills where you had a beautiful view of the area.

We had a good companionship with the administrator Sr. Eulogio Perez and the vet. Mr.Asís Diaz who was originally from the province Corrientes.

Knowing that I had lived in that province we became very friendly and he used to tell me yarns of how, to be able to study, he joined the Detective Branch of the Police Force in Corrientes and his many adventures which I found most interesting.

Certain evenings, after work, the three of us used drive to a boliche (pub) “El Dorado” pertaining to an excellent person by the surname of Valdez on route 226.and have a few drinks and play cards.

Many week-ends were spent at my Grandparents and some in Mar del Plata.

When the cold weather started settling in I found myself quite lonesome so I decided to return home.

I arrived on the verge of my 21st birthday and once again without a job.

After a few celebrating parties I set out to look for a job.

Wishing to have an out-door job and with the possibility of continuing my studies, I followed the advise of a friend and dropped to see a Mr. Judson, Manager of Frigorifico Anglo Cattle Buying Department.

We had an interesting meeting and at the time only had a job as Hog Buyer at the Liniers Cattle Market as the person in charge of that section was to be transferred to cattle buying (This person was Gordon Campbell).

At the same time I received an offer from Mr. R.A. Duncan, Managing Director of G.E.C. to join once again with a fairly good job.

After pondering on both offers I decided to join the “Anglo”

“FRIGORIFICO ANGLO”(1954-1964)

So far life had been very easy but the next ten years were the ones to look seriously at life.

 
The Cattle Market (known, also, as Mataderos) was and still is situated near the area of Liniers, within the Capital city of Buenos Aires, following the Avenida de Los Corrales. It has been there since 1889.(it had previously been situated in Plaza Miserere (Once). Besides the cattle market was a government packing house named “Lisandro de la Torre”. Later transferred to another more important packinghouse situated in the town of Avellaneda under the name of Corporación Argentina de Productores de Carne (in short: C.A.P.). Other important packing houses in those days that used to bid at the auctions purchasing cattle were:  Anglo, Swift, Armour, Wilson, La Blanca and an important amount of free butchers.

The amount of cattle per day was most interesting, as up to 35.000 head used to come up for sale. In those days, as the railways were still good, 70 % came by cargo train and the rest by truck.

The Market was divided in six areas where at the sound of the bell at 8 o’clock a.m. sales commenced on all six

All cattle buyers, to be able to bid, had to be riding horses and it was most attractive to see so many people on horse-back.  Above the cattle pens were the auctioneers and biding could be quite interesting and some time buyers used to “lock horns” on special lots that promised good export beef.

The packing houses had their buyers and many of us were quite young, so not only was there good friendship but also quite a bit of heavy pranks.

I, myself, remember two of the many:  One morning I was walking from the Hog to the Cattle Market when from the corner of my eye I saw, quite far, Kenneth Aylife, on his horse had spotted me. He galloped towards me flat out.   As he came nearer I started shrinking, so when his horse was nearly on top I jumped up with a shrieking scream…. His horse stopped on his track and he ended on his horses neck..   He swore at me like a drunken sailor but he took it in good grace.

Another time, when crossing a rather high pen somebody closed the gates and I found myself with a young bull with very small pointing horns. The bull came straight at me and I realized he was blind so I somehow gave a great leap and held to the top of the pen.

The horses were wonderful to watch: to see the cow-hands trooping cattle at full speed to be loaded to their destiny: In dry weather sparks could be seen when horseshoes hit the cobble stones of the road.
And when rainy days and the slosh had accumulated on the roads horses, when reined in, opened their legs and skidded along to a stop.

Another cold, wet winter morning when I had to gallop my horse he slipped and we both rolled in the wet ground but, fortunately, we ended, wet but well.

As to the hog market, that was on one of the sides of the market, there was also an interesting daily entry of up to 3000 head.

I worked together with Pedrito Reilly, Killemet and Mr. Ford who was in charge of weighing our purchases.
Mr. Ford was a vet. of WW1 and had been quite a good boxer.

We did our daily purchasing after which I returned home, which was quite far, (Lomas de Zamora) so I had to take a buss and then the train from Constitución station.  Get home, have lunch, a light siesta, shower and don a suit and then at three thirty p.m. be at the offices in Diagonal Norte where Anglo’s Administration rented two floors at the Shell building at Diagonal Norte street.

In the Buyers office we were rather a crowded set as cattle, hog and sheep buyers were all together. In the next office were Messrs. Judson and Kenny.  (Managers)

The chiefs of the outfits were Messrs. Young, Reilly and Mr. Affleck.

So slowly went 1954… The only outstanding news during this year was that at a tea-party at home with friends of my youngest sister I met the girl that would later become my wife. (Antonia)

1955 – I started second year of night school. Year of bloody revolutions which toppled the government. By the end of the year Antonia and I were in good friendship and I had ended second year High School.

Antonia and her family were all born in Minorca (Spain). Her Father was an engineer specialized in communications and had an interesting job in Mahon.   However he was caught up by Franco’s civil war and he and many others were on the last British battle ship that left the port of Mahon: H.M.S. Devonshire
which was full of exiles.

They were landed at Marseilles (France) and traveled to Argeles-Sur-Mer ending in a concentration camp at, Bram, a small town near Carcassonne. Where they were guarded my Senegalese troops that treated them rather roughly.

As the German invasion advanced the Senegalese open the gates of the concentration camp and fled.

Antonio (my future Father-in Law) and two companions kept on walking till they arrived at a queue in a baker shop.    At that moment the German troops arrived and took all the civilians to work in a field.  As Antonio’s friends did not understand French and he was explaining what the German sergeant orders were the sergeant went up to them to inquire what the fuss was about.  Having explained the situation the sergeant spoke to them in Spanish and told him he was also born in Spain.   So he took them out of the line, gave them some bread and they kept on walking.

I do no know much of the rest of the story except that Antonio lived for a time in Carcassonne, Chartres and Paris.  He worked at different jobs amongst them as a baker and also as a carpenter where he always excelled and always kept as a hobby.    He also took part in the French Résistance and was lucky enough to be able to wrangle his way out when the Germans were reeling back in 1944 and taking – by force- people to work at the factories in Germany.

Antonio started to walk again and in the dark of night arrived at the embankment of a river. Whilst swimming across he was challenged in English. (The American troops were on the other side). He addressed the guard in Spanish and luck helped him again as the guard was a Porto Rican. He was helped out of the river, given him dry clothes, fed him well and he was allowed to continue his travel.

In 1947 we find him in Paris with all the family together: Antonia, her brother Antonio, and Mother Pilar.

They remained three years in France and then had the chance of settling in Mexico or Argentina.

As they had family in Buenos Aires they decided for Buenos Aires. They arrived in 1950 and to be able to earn his wages started digging trenches for a firm of French capital “Transradio”. When one of the managers of the firm came to inspect the works the foreman pointed Antonio to him explaining he was an engineer majored in Barcelona .He was quickly taken away and given a good job and house in Monte Grande´s re-stramiting station.

1956 came along and it dawn on me that the Sheep Market in Avellaneda would be much nearer home.
The boss of this outfit was a  Mr. Affleck.   So I spoke to him with reference to being transferred to the Sheep Market.   He discussed the matter with Mr. Judson and I was accepted.

So I went to this lovely market together with a team that had Mr. Affleck, Constanduros, Cecil Simpson,
Andres Cappa, Bobby Collie and Tom Olivari. A very good team, very friendly people and half an hour from home.

This did not only make my life pleasanter but it helped me to finish my third year of High School.

>However, during that summer I went (1956)off for my holidays to visit Terry Coward, wife Cheche and newly born Cristina at Federico Garats estancia in Chajarí (Entre Rios). The trip to the city of Concordia was made in a Sunderland sea-plane that landed in the Uruguay river and afterwards took the train to Chajarí where Terry was waiting for me at the station.

Terry and Derek
Cheche,Christina and Derek

Estancia´s House



We spent two excellent weeks riding “camp” and I returned to the city of Concordia where I had dinner with Don Federico at the Yatch Club and the following day flew back to Buenos Aires.

1956 dragged on, life was going very well, when we had a very sad situation as Dad, at the age of 56 had a stroke that kept him in bed for five years and as it was in those days, he was looked after at the British Hospital. As soon as Dad had his stroke we were right away visited by the British Legion to offer their services.

By the end of that year I finished my third year of High School and Antonia and I became engaged.

1957. Due to doctors advise not to await  Father’s recovery, on the 4th.of February in a very simple wedding our marriage was performed.

 As Antonia worked in a French Bank I. once again, left by studies for later times.

 ºWork went on well at the sheep market; it was a merry job and had a good time with our outfit and good friends of other packing houses.

1958- With Antonia took our holidays visiting my brother Digby, who had married and we arrived after his first born daughter: Maria Ines.
We caught the train to Santa Fé city and met Digby at the station where we drove up North to Saladero Cabal (Sta.Fé) where he had his home and administrated the island he had rented for fattening cattle.


Top row:: Digby with María Ines, Digby, Estela and María Ines
Middle row: driving cattle to "Cambuí" island
Bottom row: Antonia and Derek fishing and walking by the banks of the river.  Parting cattle to load on the boats


Loaded boat down crossing to Santa Elena (Entre Rios)

In front of this town, on the other side of the Paraná River, stands Santa Elena (Bovril’s packing-house)

We had two good weeks of fishing and riding and when Bovril’s cattle boat came over gave a hand in parting and loading cattle to Sta. Elena.    Another interesting experience was crossing cattle to “Cambuí” island.  For that bullocks were used to lure the cattle crossing the river whilst we rowed along side.
Horses were ready on the island to help disperse the cattle to the better grass land. So the good time ended and returned home by train            

 With my Father-in-Law we were able to get a very good bank loan and, having bought a piece of land, four blocks away from Adrogué station we started building our homes.  We both put a lot of personal work into it but due lack of funds we had to stop, after we had roofed both houses.

During that year, on the 4th of August my son Henry was born. So at the end of the year Antonia left the Bank.

During Christmas we had the bad news my Grandfather, who lived in the town of Balcarce (Bs.As.) suddenly passed away. I flew to Mar del Plata and then to Balcarce (60Km.) to attend his funeral. He was a most interesting man, majored in chemistry and also a dentist, had been born in 1876 and lived an interesting period of Argentine history which he was very versed and could talk of many historical facts.

1959- Still enjoying the sheep market and on to 4th .year High School.

Since our marriage we spent most of our week-ends at my in-laws at Transradio. This Company that had 800 hects.of land adjoining to all the Ezeiza fields and had areas of marshes and streams that I was able to have long treks and sometimes the local policeman would lend me his horse and I rode through the camps.
Two years running, during May, flocks of duck used to settle in the area and with my .22 rifle go out shooting.  My Mother-in-Law being a very good cook made special treats with the hunted ducks.

Another year we had several floods due to the Matanza river overflowing. Together with my Father-in-law we used to take the Co´s boat and row round the area.
All things used to happen, as another year we had such a draught that even the marshes dried up and there discovered the amount of existing fish, mostly of a very big size.  So we also had some fishing that Pilar cooked away to our delight.

1960- Our second son Charlie arrived and I, finally, graduated. Many thanks must be given to Messrs. Reilly and Affleck as in many occasions exempted me from office work that I might be able to study.

All these years we made a habit of visiting Dad at the Hospital: On Sundays with the family. Although Dad was bed-ridden and had lost his speech, mentally he was very fit and being able to have on his bed his two first Foster grandsons gave him great pleasure.
On Thursday afternoons we would drop in to visit him with his good friend Eric Meek and his jokes and stories made not only Dad, but other patients in the ward shriek with laughter. So much so that even the nurses used to come and watch.

During the years in the Anglo Cecil Simpson (Simmy) and I became very good friends A born outdoor man and good at hunting and fishing and also good cook. He often went hunting guanaco, wild goat and antelope in Sierra de la Ventana and Huanguelén (Prov.of Buenos Aires). He had an excellent eye sight and could detect a guanaco from far away amongst the rocks of the hills.
This type of hunting has never met with my approval. However I enjoyed shooting partridge and fishing together with Simmy.
We often went fishing in the lagoons of Monte and Lobos (B.As. province.) To get there we would take trains which, still, in those years were good to travel by.
Another time part of the Sheep-Buyers team: Simmy, Andres Cappa, Raymond Cogswell and others went fishing in a stream, at a camp near the town of Magdalena (Prov.of Bs.As.) The fishing was not very good but Simmy cooked an excellent barbecue.
The top of the fishing came in the month of December when we traveled together with a friend and his jeep to the northern tip of the Samborombón Bay to the town of General Lavalle. From there we were taken, by launch, to settle in one of the many islets in the “Ajo estuary” where we set up our tent and spent three days of excellent fishing..
The area was surrounded by heavy marshes and shrub and had been told that when the Paraná river flooded it left all sorts of things in the area.
Therefore it was not surprising when, on the second day, when I made my way to our tent amongst the marshes I came face to face with a rattle snake…… I jumped the two meters down the embankment.
One of the mornings we had a very good catch of “corvinas”. Simmy got us to make a pile of dry grass, gutted the fish, set them into the pile of dry grass and set fire to it. When the fire died out he scaled them and we eat delicious smoked fish. 

1961 - Sometime during this year we again visited Brother Digby and family who was now administrating a camp in the province of Salta - “Suri Pozo” in the town of Joaquin V. Gonzalez
We took the train at Retiro station which was named “Cinta de Plata” which was supposed to be air conditioned. The only coach air conditioned was the restaurant carriage.  However we had a comfortable room, well attended by a porter.

Arrived at Metán (Salta) and there was Digby with his pick-up to take us to the camp.
I had never been in such a “dirty” camp with so much bush and forest, with a good variety of snakes (lampalagua, yarará, and Coral)( the Coral is rather a small snake with beautiful rings surrounding its body and is extremely poisonous) and tick falling  from trees down your neck.

The horses were on the small size, ideal for going through the bushes. However, on one occasion, whilst riding I spotted a partridge and, with my .22 revolver I shot at it, missed (but must had had quite a fright)
However my horse bolted, once calmed we continued our journey. On the second occasion that I spotted a partridge, no sooner I mounted my revolver that the click once again put the horse in a panic… so I holster my gun and that was that.

 However, another morning trotting down a lane I became face to face with a beautiful deer, we stared at each other for a long moment and then off he went.  

On the Sunday we went for lunch to Mr Trollinger and family. He was the administrator of a huge camp belonging to the Corbett family.

During July Dad passed away.  His dream had been to visit England again, 1934 being the last year he had been on Home Leave. When about to travel in 1939 war broke out and then in 1947 the railways were sold and contracts were cancelled. However before falling ill his plans had been to visit his old school and army friends.   Life sometimes can be very unjust.

1961- Still at the Sheep Market and Raymond Cogswell came to work with us. The constructions an Adrogué were being continued.

1962 – Finally in March we moved into our new homes. Still a lot to be done but we were home.
There was a lot of work in the buildings and gardens We had a very large hedge- 70 meters long- that had not been trimmed for many a year… so I axed and sawed away and had a very good stock of wood that helped expenses and kept us warm during the winter months burning in our fireplace.

On the 28th of April third son Derek arrived.

In June we had a “Home Warming” so we had a big barbecue. Cecil Simpson cooked and I remember the company of Tom Olivari, Ian Angus, Bobbie Collie, Raymond Cogswell, Arnold Dodds and others I do not now recall. Some came with their wives.  Guests departed as day was breaking and we all must have had a good time, even my Alsatian Dog – Tex- who somebody had put some wine in his water and calmly slept all day…I could not say if, next day had a hangover
1963- Was not an easy year. As the months   went by the Anglo stopped buying hogs and sheep and we were all sent to the Cattle Market We all had different chores and I was sent out to accompany Ted Enoc to buy cattle in Santa Fé, with Gordon Campbell in the province of Bs.Aires and with Raymond Cogswell to the province of Entre Rios.

Things were not looking good and we could see we were really overcrowded.

1964 - Things continued in bad shape and in February all the sheep buyers were sent to the Packing house as night Superintendents. This consisted in taking the night job in shifts from 4 to 12 p.m. and from 12 to 8 a.m. It was a dragging job. However it never occurred to me to leave the Anglo but in May when
 I was changing to get back home I found previous Sunday Bs.As Herald lying on a desk. Scanning through it I was attracted by an ad. of an American Company looking for Territory Managers.  After some thought
I sent my C.V. and that same week I was called for an interview.

I was received by a charming Texan, who was the Sales Manager.  We had a long chat … I mentioned I felt well in my actual job so, finally, he gave me a week to think things over..

The following day I was working in the garden when Cecil Simpson arrived and informed me he had bad news for me:   There was to be a 50% of people being sacked by the Anglo and I had to be in the office the following day for a meeting with Mr. Judson…. At this news I started laughing and Cecil ticked me off.
So I mentioned to him not to worry.

So the following afternoon I was sitting at Mr. Judson’s office together with Mr. Kenny and I was informed that I had been considered to be “fired” but considering my family I was to stay on different tasks.

So I first inquired what would happen with the “Home Leave Contract” I had always been promised.
When answered that that was out. I took my chance and asked if I resigned I would get my severance pay.
Mr. Judson words were “Well, chei, you have a large family where would you go” I answered that that was my problem.
 So he rose from his seat and went to see Mr. Gower and came back with the confirmation that I would receive compensation.
So nothing else to be said we all shook hands and I left the Anglo for ever.

So I phoned the American Co. and told them I would accept their offer.

I cannot end this story without thanking the Anglo for my achievements during those ten years: My family, my house and my College degree.

As a footnote wish to mention that G.E.C., Bovril and Anglo are no longer in the country having left to invest in other more promising countries.

 However, all the experiences and adventures depicted in this write up, camp life, as it was, hardly subsist today as with fairly good roads, good cars, and agricultural machinery, etc. that world has changed and many camp people now a days have their homes in the local towns.

JOHN DEERE ARGENTINA (1964 – 1975) I started at my new job and a new world, that I had not foreseen, came into my life, plus a higher salary to boost and a big check from the Anglo to help pay my debts…..

But that is another story.

Derek R. Foster