'I lost a stone with worrying'

It was the day the slaughtermen arrived to destroy his entire stock.

"We sent the kids away that morning because we didn't want them to see," said the West Bradford farmer. "We didn't let them come back for three days.

"When they came home the farm was like a ghost town.

You could hear the odd gate rattle but that was it -- even the birds had stopped singing."

Andrew's entire stock of 120 cattle and 150 sheep were shot that day, just hours after he spotted the tell-tale signs of foot and mouth in two of his cattle. "One had lesions in its foot and the other's tongue practically fell off," he said.

Like dozens of farms across East Lancashire, Whittakers Farm, Bowland Gate Lane, had been holding its breath as the inevitable spectre of FMD slowly crossed the Pennines in the summer of 2001.

Andrew's stock were among between 6.5million and 10million animals slaughtered over six months.

Now, four years on, research published in the British Medical Journal has finally confirmed what most in rural Britain already knew -- that the crisis had a devastating human impact that is still being felt.

A team from Lancaster University Institute for Health Research collected more than 3,000 weekly diaries from a "rural citizens' panel" including farmers, small business owners, doctors, vets and others living in affected areas.

The panel of 54 started their diaries in December 2001 and continued for 18 months. The results show that farmers felt, and still feel, an overwhelming sense of distress, anger and a fear of a new disaster.

This isn't news to Andrew. The 46-year-old, whose family have farmed in the Ribble Valley for generations, said: "This doesn't tell us something we don't already know.

"I remember we were constantly on edge and I lost a stone in weight through worrying. I was fortunate though because it just brought the family closer together.

"The government paid us some compensation and we used that to live on for the next 11 months.

"When I did return to farming I decided to concentrate on cattle and that means I've had a bit more leisure time.

"Eleven months out of farming taught me to relax a little bit. Before I had been working like a silly bugger for no reward. That, at least, is one positive thing to come out of it."

Andrew, who lives with wife Elizabeth, 44 and children Victoria, 19, and William, 17, now expects his son to follow in his footsteps.

But said: "Like me, he will always be looking over his shoulder to see where the next outbreak is coming from."

Robin Clark, 63, a neighbour of Andrew's, had 850 sheep and 91 cattle culled at Lowcocks Farms, West Bradford.

He has subsequently retired from farming -- bringing to an end four generations of farming -- and is now Lancashire co-ordinator for Farmers' Crisis Network, a national voluntary group set up in 1995 to support farmers.

He said that, unlike his neighbour, many farmers are telling their children to choose a different career.

He explained: "I'll never forget my yard being covered in sheep and lambs that had been shot.

"They were being loaded into a lorry and taken away.

"I think every farm in West Bradford was culled out in one weekend.

"They did every farm affected and every one next to it. I spoke to almost all the local farmers that weekend and all admitted they had broken down and cried.

"These were strong men.

"Farmers tend to work on their own, and while they have the NFU, it's not like a union in a car factory where people have access to support whenever needed.

"There was a foot and mouth scare at Gisburn Auction Mart last week and there was a feeling of dread that it could be rearing its ugly head again.

"This research could be useful because it tells a story many people don't know.

"When I was growing up farmers were heroes because they kept the country fed during the Second World War.

"But since then our confidence has been eroded by BSE, so-called food mountains, animal rights groups and reduced prices.

"I know a lot of farmers who don't want their sons to go into the industry."