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The Broken Brashing Saw


'What's "brashing"?' I hear you say.

Brashing is a silvicultural practice which involves the removal of all the lower branches to a height of five feet on young trees about fifteen to twenty years old. This practice is carried out to allow access to conifer plantations, especially of Sitka and Norway spruce where trees are usually planted in lines five feet apart with five feet between each tree.


Courtesy: Forest Research Photo Library
Brashing was one of the coal-face jobs in forestry; it wasn't a very heavy job but was tiring none-the-less. It damaged clothes and was sore on face and hands which frequently got scratched.

In 1949, a squad of forestry women was brashing a forest compartment behind Drynain. These forestry women had remained in the Women's Forestry Service which had been established to undertake forestry work during the war years.

Women's Forestry Service medal
The ganger was Dolly Gilmore who was in charge of a squad of six; my wife, Molly, was one of them and she told me this story after making me swear to keep it secret, which I have done ... until now.

It was one dreich December day when the women had finished their compartment and were on their way home, carrying their brashing saws which were to be returned to Willie Harvey at the forestry stores shed. They stopped on the bridge over the Drynain burn, (next to the bus terminus), to look at the burn which was in full spate. The women were leaning over the edge of the bridge staring at the fast-flowing water when Molly, who was carrying a broken brashing saw, accidentally dropped the blade of the saw into the raging torrent and was left holding the handle.
Drynain burn
No-one risked going in after the saw, as it was too dangerous. How could she explain to Willy Harvey, the store-man, who had to account for all the tools? What should she do? Dolly Gilmore stepped in and told Molly not to worry: she would deal with it.

When they got to the store-shed, (which is near Ardentinny Village Hall, by the river), around four o'clock, it was getting dark and there were no lights or windows in the shed. Willie was standing there and the lassies filed in, throwing their saws on the floor while Willie counted them.

Brashing Saw blade
He could not see; he could only hear; he heard what he thought were six brashing saws hit the floor and was satisfied. Willie was sure six saws had been returned but, in fact, only five had been.

One wonders if there is a moral behind this tale. "Believe nothing of what you hear and only half of what you see" If you care to be adventurous, you can go to the bridge at the bus terminus, follow the burn down to the Finart and see if you can find the missing blade of the brashing saw. Happy hunting!

Fred Mann
October, 2007.



Other stories by Fred Mann:
- Willie Hatrick - No smoke without fire