大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People's War site by Elizabeth Perez of Stockport Libraries on behalf of Edna Stafford and has been added to the site with her husband Bill Stafford's permission. Bill Stafford fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

"The war had been raging for three years, when one day in 1942 came the knowledge that soon I would have to register for some sort of National Service and in some way help by "doing my bit". So on the same day of my registration I volunteered for the W.A.A.F. this being my choice then, though I must say that nursing came a very close second and as my alternative should there be no vacancies in the W.A.A.F.

The morning of 2nd September 1942, found me leaving home with suitcase and papers, and in my head, words of wisdom ringing, which had been poured into me from all sources. I then proceeded on my way to begin a life, which was to give me more experience than I ever dreamed - but first comes the training having been accepted into the Service. Together with half-a-dozen other girls, I reported at Croydon Centre where we received instructions to proceed to Paddington Station.

There we met others and eventually arrived at our first W.A.A.F. Training Station. This was Bridgenorth in Salop. The whole town was and is very pretty and provided some picturesque walks if one was so inclined and had time in between the eternal "spit and polish" - the issue of kit, queuing for meals, inoculations, trade tests and the many other formalities of becoming a W.A.A.F. During the four days there I met many "types" of girls and was surprised to find how easily a stranger confided in a ready listener.

On the fourth morning we were up early at 4.00 am and by 9 o'clock we were all sitting on a train bound for Morecambe. I found Morecambe, like all other coastal resorts, very entertaining when the sun was shining, so we were very much unimpressed when greeted with torrents of rain. But we forgot this in the excitement of unpacking our newly acquired kit and sorting ourselves out in the boarding house, which was to be our billet. My friend Vera and I shared a rather small but neat comfortable and adequate room, furnished in the sparse but usual R.A.F manner. This was to be our 3 weeks training period at the end of which each one of us would know where our ultimate job would be.

In due course we each had interviews with the W.A.A.F. Officer and 10 days after our arrival, my name was suddenly called out during a lecture and I was told by the N.C.O. to be packed and ready by the following morning for a posting to the War Room, Whitehall, London. I can recall how the awed whispers spread around the room but strange though it may seem I never went near the War Room, Whitehall, let alone work there, but those girls with whom I joined the W.A.A.F. were posted there. In time I saw and chatted with them and from what I was told I considered myself lucky that there had been a last minute change of posting me to the Air Ministry Unit, London, rather than to the War Room, Whitehall, London."

Sadly Edna Stafford passed away on 22 February 2004. Her husband, Bill, has requested that no further messages are left in response to her stories.

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