The unwelcome invasion of 1960
Foot-and-mouth wiped out stock at 14 sites throughout the county
By Mary Bichan

Just over 40 years ago, Orkney had a very unwelcome invasion of foot-and-mouth disease.

A police roadblock at Pickaquoy in Kirkwall on the approaches to the former town dump. The dump was used as an incineration point for infected animals.

On November 19,1960, an outbreak was confirmed at Roeberry, South Ronaldsay. Although the number of outbreaks was only 14, these were very widespread.

As well as Roeberry, they included Midhouse, South Ronaldsay; Brough, Toab; Langskaill, Veltigar, Sebay, Valdigar, Tankerness; Saverock, St Ola; byres, Junction Road, belonging to Kirkwall Auction Mart and John T. Flett, Snr; Hatston Aerodrome fields, also John T. Flett, Snr; Nisthouse and Lower Bisgarth, Evie; Garth, Stromness and Hall of Clestrain, Orphir.

All movement of animals ceased and a list of instructions was issued on the best way to guard your farm. These were:

Everyone did just that, the few, who did not immediately conform, were soon persuaded to do so by the disapproval of their neighbours.

As well as milk churns being put outside the gate, a biscuit tin or other container was set out for the mail. The postman, travelling all over the place, was thought to be one of the most likely carriers of infection. The grocery vans had a disinfectant-soaked sack where customers stood. All cats are free spirits and I do not remember that they were closed in but the dogs must have wondered what terrible sin they had committed when they were denied freedom. All farms had one or two working dogs then and, as dogs will, their first impulse in the morning was to go to inspect their boundaries, see if they had had any intruders during the night and, in their own doggy way, renew their claim to their territory. Rumour had it that birds were carriers and every starling and whitemaa was looked at with distaste.

Signs like these sprang up all over Orkney at the end of 1960.

Every wanderer was unwelcome. The tinklers, who were still coming past with their packs, were harshly turned away. Anyone who came past, without a very good reason, was not welcome.

The fact that the disease seemed to have taken giant steps and spread so far so quickly, induced a real fear in everyone. They were not prepared to take chances. A farmer, who still had not taken his young cattle home from their summer grazings, thought that he would drive them along a little used right of way. He was met by the first farmer on the route and told that he could not pass, so he had to turn about and return them to the field where they had to remain until the all clear. Fortunately, they had a small stone shelter but food had to be carted to them every day.

The loss of social events was keenly felt but all kinds of meeting and recreational activities stopped. Even the Drama Festival, which was not due until the end of February, was cancelled as there were no early rehearsals. Everyone stayed at home and found ways to use the time. Quite a number of places did not have the telephone or electricity, television was black and white, there were no music centres or computers. A tape was something you used for tying up things, a web belonged to a spider and a dot ended a sentence.

Staying at home seemed a minor inconvenience when compared to the loss of all one's animals. Everyone felt terribly sad for the people who had to have their beasts killed. Every animal then had a herd number and individual number which had been brought in to practice with the scheme in the 1950s to eradicate tuberculosis but, with more small farms then, a farmer's relationship with his cloven hoofed animals was nearly on a personal basis. Cows rejoiced in names like Blossom, Sabrina, Goldilocks, Lugs, the Keekan' Coo and so on and ewes and sows were similarly and appropriately named. Their birth times and place of origin would be known for several generations back and the very thought of all that being wiped out was devastating.

By December 29, it was possible to lift most of the restrictions on animal movements and the last restrictions were removed in January 1961. Life could return to normal, but over 3,200 cattle, sheep and pigs valued at £82,000 had been slaughtered.

Surprise was expressed by the public outside Orkney that this disease had been so well contained in such a small highly-populated area and Orcadians were congratulated on the achievement.

Many Orcadians saw nothing remarkable about it. They had been told what would save their animals, they obeyed instructions and their mass determination triumphed.