CHECKENDON COURT.

CHECKENDON COURT, near Goring-on-Thames, the property of Mr. F. S. Oliver, was opened in March, 1918, as a Rest and Convalescent Home for members of the Women's Services. It was run at first on purely private lines under the charge of the Hon. Mrs. Fitzclarence, V.A.D., but was afterwards taken over by the Admiralty as a recognised W.R.N.S. Convalescent Home, under the supervision of the Medical Assistant Director, W.R.N.S., and with a W.R.N.S. officer in charge of a staff of ratings. It still remained opened as before to all the Women's Services, and Mrs. Fitzclarence continued in charge of the patients until the Home was closed on March 15th, 1919. As the place became better known, applications for beds became more numerous, and latterly the house was rarely without its full complement of ten visitors.

It was not necessary to be ill in order to claim the hospitality of Checkendon Court, though of course, invalids always had the preference. Officers on leave might board there, and several members of the W.R.N.S. Headquarters Staff came down for a week or so to recruit after some specially strenuous period of work, these visits being much enjoyed by the junior officers who were there at the time. Another great source of interest was the meeting of members of the various Services. I do not think it ever happened that Wrens, Waacs, Wrafs, and V.A.D.'s were all represented at Checkendon at once, but the party was usually drawn from at least two or three of these Services, with perhaps an addition from that larger order which, not to be outdone, took to signing itself in the visitor's book with the initials M.C. (Mere Civilian).

As regards Checkendon Court itself, one could hardly choose a better spot, either for convalescence or for a refreshing holiday. The house is an enlarged farm or manor-house, standing nearly 600 ft. up on a plateau of the Chilterns, five miles from the station, with a village at the gate just large enough to provide a church, a post-office, a forge, and a general shop.

 The garden, divided up by high yew hedges into plots of delightfully varied character, gives plenty of choice of sunny, sheltered corners, and leads directly into the beech-woods which are such a great feature of the neighbourhood.

It was my privilege to see these woods, first in the full glory of their autumn colouring, and again when every twig was powdered white with snow, and the few dead leaves still left on the undergrowth stood out a bright red brown against the spotless snow-carpet. I was glad then that I was not myself a convalescent, and could follow the woodland roads down into the valleys and over the ridges with their wide views over snowy-clad slopes and distant hills.

But there was plenty of interest in the woods for those who could not wander far afield. It did not take long to reach the shed where the old man stood at his foot-lathe, turning out his gross of chair-legs a day for the factory at High Wycombe. He used to do that much without help, so he told me, but now, at the age of 70 or more, he had to employ a boy for the first rough shaping of the wood. During the hard weather it had to be thawed at the fire before the chisel would cut through the frozen sap.

A little further on the road ran through a wide clearing where felling was still in progress, while another easy walk led to the Haunted House - a deserted cottage with a long, sloping roof and green shutters, buried deep in the heart of the wood. The name was first given to it simply on account of its appearance, but was afterwards found to be justified by a local story of a keeper's wife who had been thrown down the stairs and thereafter haunted the cottage.

Of course, to many of the convalescents, and especially to those who were victims of the winter epidemic of influenza, the comfort to be found indoors was of more importance than any out-door beauties or interests. But even here the woods played a beneficent part, providing cheery log fires, not only in the hall and sitting-rooms, but - luxury of luxuries! - even in the bedrooms. With breakfast in bed to begin the day, and a fire in one's bedroom to end it, no one could complain of discomfort; and an abundance of books and easy chairs took the mind far away from the Spartan life and strenuous work of war-time.

It was always with great regret that owners have earned a deep debt of gratitude by their generosity in devoting the house for so long to the benefit of the Women's Services.

B.M.C