I WAS looking back through a recent Echo Memories when I came upon an article from September 1950 which contained a proposal that agricultural workers in Britain should see the adult male minimum wage rise from £4 14 shillings (£4.70) to £5 for a minimum 47 hour week.

My father was a farm hind and in those days they were treated like serfs by their bosses who expected their workers to be at their beck and call.

These were the gentlemen farmers, not the working farmers who toiled alongside their men and respected them.

Although our family were brought up on farms not once did I consider farm work as an occupation for myself. How my mother managed to feed and clothe us all (I was one of ten children) I will never know but we never went without food.

Clothing was different because during and after the war everyone had a make do and mend attitude. I remember when I was 13 or 14 wearing my elder sister’s Land Army overcoat, and glad I was too. I recall going to school with cardboard inside my shoes to cover the holes worn in the soles until my father could obtain some leather to repair them. Dad always cobbled the family’s shoes and boots.

I give a wry smile when I hear people complaining about today’s hardships, wearing their fancy trainers and speaking on their expensive iPhones – and don’t get me going on those ripped jeans!

My father worked in all weathers for that pittance of a wage and died, worn out, at the age of 64. He never even got a few carefree years of retirement.

Doug Porthouse, Ferryhill.