Free The Real James Herriot by Jim Wight

seemingly inexhaustible fascination for all things veterinary. This is a predictable opinion as the television series ‘All Creatures Great and Small’, first shown twenty years ago, was a runaway success and was enjoyed by millions. James Herriot’s books, the inspiration behind that series, are widely believed to have been the main reason for the spotlight that now seems to be permanently upon the veterinary surgeon.
    My father, however, repeatedly expressed his opinion that he was not solely responsible for the high profile of his profession and the headlong rush of young people entering the veterinary schools. When I applied for entry in 1960, ten years before the first Herriot book was published, there were, even then, three to four hundred applicants for around forty-five places on the course. With the general public’s enduring fascination for animals, a career in veterinary medicine has been a natural choice for an ever-increasing number of young people. The enormous popularity of his books may have inevitably improved the image of the profession, but there are other factors involved and I agree with my father’s assertion: James Herriot is only partly responsible. I feel sorry for the youngsters nowadays who aspire to be veterinary surgeons. The competition to enter the veterinary schools is intense, with dauntingly high academic achievements needed – three ‘A’ Levels in the science subjects, with at least two at ‘A’ grade. Many listen with envy when I tell them that, back in 1960, I needed only two ‘A’ Levels to gain entry to Glasgow University Veterinary School. Admittedly, they had to be in the science subjects – chemistry, physics and biology – but an ordinary pass was enough and it was a modest challenge in comparison with the ferocious competition of today. I wonder what they would think of the requirements in my father’s day!
    Alfred Wight gained admission to Glasgow Veterinary College in 1933 with passes in English, French and Latin – hardly ideal subjects for a future scientist, but the situation then was very different. With comparatively few wishing to enter the veterinary profession during the years of the depression, the veterinary schools were only too pleased to welcome anyone to fill the courses. While still at Hillhead School, he had telephoned the veterinary college to tell them that, provided he gained the basic entry requirements, he would like to pursue a career in veterinary medicine.
    The principal himself, Dr Whitehouse, had answered the telephone. ‘Good!’ he had replied. ‘When can you start?’
    At the time of Alf’s entry in 1933, Glasgow was unique among the veterinary schools of the British Isles. It was receiving no financial aid from the government, and its survival depended solely upon the fees received from the students, together with local authority grants and donations from various organisations. A government report of 1925 had decreed that only one veterinary school was needed in Scotland, resulting in the grant upon which the school depended being ruthlessly terminated. Glasgow Veterinary College defiantly carried on functioning through the sheer determination of the chairman of the governors, Professor John Glaister, and the principal, Dr A. W. Whitehouse. As a result, it took a fierce pride in its very existence, and the students emerged from the five-year course feeling a real sense of achievement.
    Alf received a Carnegie Bursary of £18 a year together with a Glasgow Education Authority grant of £10 towards his fees, but the real cost was much more. Books, materials and living expenses multiplied the drain upon the students’ resources many times over. As at Hillhead, Alf received the full support of his parents throughout the six years he spent at the veterinary college – years that were to provide him with unforgettable memories and life-long friendships.
    He began his education at the college on 26 September 1933 and he wrote in his