大象传媒

Part 2
As my home at Ashford (Middlesex) was just 35 minutes by rail from London Waterloo, I made the most of our very infrequent days off by seeing my mother. I would perhaps take one or 2 girls with me for much needed baths and indulging in a good meal with feet resting on a polished floor instead of cookhouse ashes. My mother loved the garden and when I was at Gravesend she sent me a tin of lilies-of-the-valley all wrapped In wet newspaper. I was delighted, cadged an empty jar from the cookhouse and put them on the windowsill by my bed. The scent was really lovely and unforgettable.
To save cash we used to thumb lifts from lorries going into London but even in those days we always made sure we didn't do it alone. On one of my trips by rail, silence came to the carriage as we heard the terrifying sound of a buzz-bomb. We counted and then the noise suddenly stopped. We knew that in 10 seconds the bomb would drop and it did, on the station recently left!
One summer's evening I had a few hours off duty and walked towards the river. There was an amazing sight - the Thanes estuary was full of quite large ships, almost stern to stern. The decks were filled with ambulances and all sorts of vehicles. Suddenly the sound of bagpipes floated over the water from one of the ships and then on the deck of the ship nearest me, came a solitary figure. He saw me on the bank and waved. We shouted a few pleasantries for a short while before he disappeared below. I stood there with a heavy heart for quite a few moments afterwards as I knew my fianc茅 was on one of those ships with "D-Day" being in the offing and all it meant. My fianc茅, with many thousands of other troops, had been incarcerated behind barbed-wire for a number of weeks in Essex on the north bank of the Thames. Now the time had come for the Normandy landings (then. of course, we knew not where the liberation of Europe would start.) As soon as I could the next evening, I raced towards the river. Only the lapping of the water in the reeds at my feet greeted me - all the ships had sailed. If crying would have helped, I would have wept buckets as I walked back to the camp. I told no-one. In the Mess we heard the 8 o'clock news on the radio next morning, that 6th June, that it was indeed, "D-Day". My fianc茅 landed on Gold Beach that night but became a prisoner-of-war at Villers B茅cage, near Falaise 10 days later.
As Germany retreated, her concentration was on their homeland and so our defence of London and the South-East became unnecessary. Late Autumn the Battery was disbanded and we were sent hither and thither. A few of us A.T.S. were sent to Edinburgh to work in offices. We lived in commandeered houses in Glencairn Crescent not far from the English Cathedral. They were lovely large houses and we couldn't believe our luck to live and work in such surroundings. Not only that, we had such luxuries as no mud to contend with, proper toilets and bath facilities, good food (could even buy cakes in the shops) and sugar on the Mess tables too. We only had inspections once a week and only then had to "barrack" our beds. Our enthusiasm was not liked by most of the Authorities (Officers) or the girls who were used to the life -some even lived at home and were only present by their beds for inspect ions I Hogmanay was a revelation. Part of my job in the Office was to be chauffeured in a jeep to check stores in the dungeons of Edinburgh Castle. The Public then, of course, were not allowed in the Castle, being wartime, so I felt really privileged to enter these portals. The dungeons were quite eerie, though. In my spare tine, evenings, Saturday afternoons and Sundays, I managed to see quite a bit of the city and surrounding countryside, which was great as I had not been north of the border before.
As I mentioned before, we H.A.A. girls were not liked and especially by our A,T.S, "boss" - the Junior Commander. She demoted me with the feeble excuse that she hadn't the quota in personnel for another Sergeant but then a few days later promoted one of her "own" girls. On the grapevine I heard that she was sending us to Belgium and my name was definitely on the list. I immediately applied for O.C.T.U. (Officer Training) and she had to take my name off the list. The previous Sunday morning I had sat on my bed (not really allowed) and read the Sunday Telegraph or Times. On the front page were the headlines: "Oflag 79 relieved" with a picture of 3 Americans in a jeep entering the Camp. Oflag 79 was an officers' prisoner-of-war Camp near Brunswick, Hanover and situated, like many more, next to a German airfield. I did not want to be in Belgium whilst my fianc茅 was returning to England. This he did in a creaking Dakota via Brussels. It was good that the camp commander disobeyed his instructions to march his prisoners out. They were too weak from lack of food (no Red Cross parcels had got through for months owing to our bombing of the railways) and besides, he, the Commandant, favoured being an American prisoner, rather than a prisoner of the Russians. My orders came through and I travelled south to a lovely old house and grounds just outside London for intensive interviews, tests oral and practical, to decide as to whether I was Officer Materlal. I couldn't care less, of course, if I passed or not as it was only delaying tactics. I managed to sneak a night at home before I was supposed to return to Edinburgh. I was awakened early next morning by my fianc茅 - gaunt but thankfully and wonderfully alive, all 6'2" of him.
The Government had some human feelings and allowed leave in those clrcumstances so a phone call to Edlnburgh did the trick. The Saturday after V.E. Day (Victory in Europe) we were married by Special Licence from the Bishop of Peterborough in Walton Parish Church - a very happy and memorial day was May 12th. I then applied for demobilisation as a married woman and my husband was stationed in Yorkshire till his demob. We then settled in Peterborough with my in-laws for a while as my husband went back to his old teaching job there. Our medals cannot be shown. I have given then, to my daughter in Virginia, U.S.A. as she is compiling a family history.
Every year in July, over 400 of us Ack Ack "girls" meet for a weekend reunion at the Royal Artillery Barracks Impala Barracks) in York. It is most inspiring as all of us now
must be just under 80 years old or over. The highlight of the weekend is our Special Service in the Minster on Sunday morning. Numerous coaches take us from the Barracks into the City, going through all the red lights as we have a police escort! After the Service, at which special guests and the Lord Mayor of York attend, we march with a band round the Minster and the Salute is taken on the steps of the West door. One year it was Baroness Betty Boothroyd, formerly Speaker of the House of Commons - a delightful person. I have no regrets on volunteering as in the Service, I learned a lot (in every way) and found what real team work and companionship meant and the latter carries on.
The A.T.S. (renamed V.R.A.C.) veterans of the Birmingham area, meet monthly at the Service Club (B.U.S.C.) in Gough Street. We are very active and have many social events. The Ack Ack girls have a memorial garden by the Royal Artillery plot in the National Arboretum, Alrewas, Staffs

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