GEORGE Woodward, a countryman through and through, has just retired as river bailiffe with the Enviroment Agency and will be sorely missed along the rivers and byways of Monmouthshire and Herefordshire.

Born in Lancashire 65 years ago, George first got a taste for all the traditional country pursuits as a boy. His grandfather was a tailor and cobbled together a fishing rod of button-hole thread and a pin.

The very first fish George ever caught he put in a tin he found at the bottom of a hedge, proudly carried it home and popped it in the sink in the washroom and there it stayed for three years. His mother was the uncomplaining sort.

He developed a love of shooting and at the grand age of 13 he persuaded his father to buy him a shot gun. There are not many thirteen year olds who can these days wander casually down the street with a shot gun slung over his shoulder. George, however, did. Far from being challenged by the adults in the village, instead they would ask him, '...get us a pigeon or a rabbit will you lad.' A newspaper round enabled him to buy his cartridges two or three at a time.

A life in the countryside has always suited George for he has always been happy in his own company. He has only been to a dance once in his life and that was quite enough. At the age of 15 he got a job as under keeper on a large estate in Lancashire. The head gamekeeper was something of a hard task-master. When George, chasing an absconding poacher, had his finger smashed to the bone by a rifle butt, he reeled on the ground in pain. No sympathy from his boss, however. "What do you think you're doing? Get after him."

To read the rest of this report see the Ross Gazette