The big field

CW: Contains themes of violence and accidental harm.

The big field

I sat there looking out of the kitchen window at the large empty farm yard. Gone were the tractors, the noise of hens and ducks strolling across the yard's surface looking for scraps of food. It was the height of summer and the great chestnut tree that dominated the right hand corner of the yard was bending its giant branches in a request for water. As I looked at the yard today it brought back so many memories of years ago as a child. On summer days I played with my brother under the great tree seeking protection from the sun. In those days of innocence the family farm was a wonderland of adventures and excitement. Feeding the animals, picking fruit, being driven by dad on the tractor and learning how to make and repair needed tools. Maybe one of my most memorable moments was the summer evening when we had supper on the terrace looking across the well kept fields and watching the birds settle in for the night. Later as adults mine and my brother's wedding lunches in the big yards surrounded by family and friends and the occasional dogs, ducks and hens that wanted to be part of the festivities.This was a gift from our parents that is ingrained in our hearts. Sitting there alone in the kitchen contemplating all these memories gave me an eerie feeling of the past: the noise, bustle and daily routine of a farmer's life. The farm had been sold. I was here to clear out the few remaining chattels belonging to the family. My brother and I had followed different career patterns. My younger brother was a lawyer and I was an electronic engineer owning a successful business.

My father had inherited the farm from his only brother. It was a tragic story. His brother Sandy and his wife had died without children in a disastrous pile up on a motor way. A bus carrying children on their annual holiday hit the motorway's guard rail and overturned. Several cars behind careered into the bus. The investigation about the accident found the bus driver was under the influence of drugs. None of the children survived the crash, neither did the occupant of the first ten cars.

At the time my father was farming a smaller farm in another part of the county. Not having any children, Sandy had always willed his farm to his brother knowing well it would be looked after. My father, after a few discussions with my mother, decided to sell their farm and move to my brother's bigger farm. They had only been married for two years. Dad spent an exhausting year travelling some 60 miles between the two properties. My father was a tall, strong man with large powerful hands. He had a well trimmed head of black hair, a kind face with a large mouth that when he smiled it showed a gorgeous array of brilliant white teeth. He was a mild man. I only once saw him lose his temper. This inner peace and gentleness I am sure the animals felt. Every animal on the farm had a name. To remember all these names as there were over 300 animals was quite an achievement. Mother and father never made a mistake. My mother was a shy woman devoted to her husband and the farm. It was clear once you were in her company you felt she was a woman that had found all she had wanted from life. She was dedicated to us boys, but we were secondary consideration to her husband and the farm.

Most of the farm land lay on several hundred acres around and in the front of the farm. At the back of the farm there were several fields on a slight slope.These fields ended with a country road that crossed the back of the property. Just before this road were two very large fields. One of them my father rented from the villagers' local council . My father on several occasions had suggested he buy it. But for unknown reasons the council were not prepared to sell it. He leased it on a revolving yearly lease. Father had the brilliant idea of putting a small buffalo herd on the leased land. Two males and two females. Within five years they had four children. As children we loved going up to the field with father or mother and looking at these magnificent, calm creators. It was a joy watching the clubs playing around their mothers. Once the older buffalos got used to us and recognised our smells we were allowed to play with cubs under the watchful eye of one parent. My parents were good people that love the land and look after their animals with tender care. They were known in the village as an example to follow of good husbandry.

It must have been some five years ago when the peace of my parents' world was shattered. At the time my brother and I were away at the university. It was my mother who told us word for word the whole story. Apparently my father had been working on the lower fields. When he came in for supper my mother told him there appeared to be strange activity on the field where the buffalos live. He told her they would have supper first and after he would take the tractor and go up there to look. He did and to his surprise found a number of people in the field. The buffalos were nowhere to be seen. The herd had now grown to 10 adults and five cubs. He immediately approached a small group gathered around a stage with loud speakers set up. Mother’s interpretation of the conversation.

“What’s going on here? This is my land.”

“Tomorrow being Saturday we have organised a two day rave party.”

For the first time in his life my father flew into a rage. “ Who gave you permission? Where are the buffalos this is their grazing land”

“Oh! The buffalos. We herded them into the big field next door. We just thought your big field was a good place for a rave party as it has easy access.”

“ Well there is no question of you are going to have a rave party on my land. You know trespassing is against the law.”

At that junction the group’s point man said. “What are you going to do about it? By tomorrow morning there will be a few thousand people here.

My father told them he would return to the farmhouse and call the police. Our mother told us he stormed into the farmhouse and immediately picked up the phone and dialed the police. The local police told him it would be nearly impossible at this late date to stop the party as, no doubt, invitations are already circulating on the internet. For the local police these unauthorised rave parties are posing a serious problem.To stop one in progress would need the national riot police. But what we can do is; early tomorrow morning send up four or five police officers to make sure there are safety measures in place, including toilet facilities.Take the names of the organizers for future reference. We will also make sure two or three policemen stay on guard throughout the rave party.. Providing the farm is not threatened we think it will be alright. We regret this is happening to you, it will be a noisy weekend. As her husband put down the phone he said they even had the audacity to move the buffalos into the other big field. Mother saw his feeling of helplessness added to an intense feeling of frustration.

The next day my father went up to the field to see what was happening. He still felt furious, an emotion unknown to him. This crowd of youngsters had walked on to his land, moved his animal and will be creating a noise that would wake a badger.

The festival or party was in full swing. There was a group up on the stage exciting a crowd of a few thousand with music to his ears that sounded odd. He did see a couple of policemen monitoring the situation. He also realized if there were any signs of violent behavior they would be totally overwhelmed. He left disgusted. On the way back he checked on the buffalos. At present they seemed to be grazing calmly.

That night my father could not sleep because of the noise in the big field and also his disturbing unknown emotional feeling of deep anger. By about 3.30 a.m. the noise had died down. He decided to creep up to the other big field, open the gate and let the Buffalos roam into their usual domain. On his way back to the farmhouse he smiled to himself thinking that the party goers face to face with these huge beasts might throw in the towel and call it a day. Before dawn he managed to get half an hour's sleep. At an early breakfast he heard the party start up again with loud music.

After completing his morning chores he decided to go up to the big field..This time as a cautionary measure he took his rifle just in case there was any trouble. This feeling of anger has not left him.

When he arrived he was content to see his buffaloes calmly grazing in their field. In general these domesticated animals are calm if left alone. Also his buffaloes had always been accustomed to being surrounded by humans. In fact this morning there was a small group of people standing quietly admiring them. What was astonishing was that somebody had used spray paint to paint intricate and colourful designs on their huge bodies. In the morning light the colorful coated beasts created a remarkable picture. His thought of the herd scaring the party goers was proving totally false; some people seemed to have adopted them. It was then he saw and heard three drunken party goers racing across the field shouting "let's ride the bloody animals. My father shouted stop, stop. Too late. The louts had already tried to mount two buffaloes. All hell let loose.The buffalos took fright and started charging towards the crowd in front of the stage. In doing so they used their heads,horns and feet to scatter the group surrounding them. There were cries of pain. The buffalos formed a tight herd charging towards the stage through the crowd in front of the stage. People panicked, many were knocked or thrown to the ground as the herd charged through them. My father knew exactly what he had to do to stop this massacre. He drove the tractor through the fence surrounding the field and raced towards the stage. He took his rifle and aimed it at the buffalos. By this time they had completely destroyed the stage and all the equipment and were in the process of turning back towards the crowds fleeing in all directions. With great care my father shot Carlos, the great old lead buffalo that had been with them for many years. The bullet went straight between the eyes. At the sound of the gun all the buffalos stopped in their tracts. Carlos with blood spurting out his forehead at first bent down on his front knees, then rolled over and lay dead. The herd gathered around the dead body. My father jumped off his tractor and with soothing words led the herd off to the other big field. These great beasts looked a sad, strange sight with their huge bodies covered in artistic designs reflected by the morning sun as the herd followed him into the next field. He purposely left the gate open knowing his buffalo herd would not return to their field for some days. As he did so he heard the police shouting for ambulances and social workers.

By this time his wife was on the scene helping with the chaos. It wasn’t long before the press turned up. The buffalos’ coatings went viral on the internet along with the damage they had done. My father later told us when he walked back into the field there was still a sense of chaos but amongst the many wounded there were plenty of helping hands. Nobody seemed to have died. He saw many people packing their camping equipment and leaving. It was a scene of sadness devoid of any drinks and smoking, the rave party had ended in an ambience devoid of all youth gaiety and enthusiasm for music and life. Only the herd in their new coats were grazing peacefully. They had calmed down.

Unauthorised rave parties for the next two weeks were the headlines on the news across the nation. A dramatic example of unauthorized rave parties. No authorization on private land, moving animals so a field was clear, and leaving hundreds of cars parked on secondary roads.

There was an investigation as many attendants had received serious wounds. Nobody seemed to be concerned about how the buffalo herd was present on the Sunday morning. As the gate was open to the field next door they just assumed the buffalos came that way. Much later when I learnt that in his fury my father had opened the gate very early that morning I sometimes wondered if this had been known at the time whether he would have been hauled in front of the justice for putting people in danger.

David Nutt July 2025