大象传媒

I remember when it was broadcast on the radio that we were at war with Germany, and my parent鈥檚 reaction to this news. My father went through World War I as a mounted policeman, so he felt more. I was 16, too young for the services. My sister, with three under school 鈥� age children, came to live with us (her husband was in the Air Force) so we got into a routine, when the siren went, of me carrying the eldest child downstairs; my sister and mother following with the remaining two younger. At this stage we, as with many others in their homes, sat under the large dining table and the cupboard under the stairs, until the all clear went when we scrambled back into bed. It wasn鈥檛 long before they put up an Anderson Shelter in the back garden for us (incidentally my father was an A.R.P warden) a strip of sticky narrow paper was put on everyone鈥檚 windows, so that if they were caught in a bomb blast it would help to stop the glass shattering. Of course we (also) had the black out when all your curtains would have to be closed before dusk so that no light would filter out. There were no street lights in the winter months. When shops would still be open it was a jog finding the shop you wanted. No lights anywhere.

I was a milkmaid at this time and I remember one day delivering milk and cheese in Cleethorpes. I lived in Grimsby, the sirens had gone but I couldn鈥檛 hear any aircraft, then I heard one engine then another engine but a different sound following and it was a hit and run accident and I saw him drop a bomb. At this stage I crouched on someone鈥檚 doorstep and I saw the bomber drop a bomb. My legs were literally shaking. After I鈥檇 had a few minutes rest I carried on delivering the milk. During the rest of my days in the services, and life afterwards I was never frightened.

It wasn鈥檛 long before we were all issued with a call-up number, mine being No. 26 and these were printed in the local paper so you could be forewarned when your number was due, so I had already decided I didn鈥檛 like the colour of khaki and I didn鈥檛 like the hats the WRENs wore. So I volunteered for the WAAFs as a driver rather than doing a trade I wouldn鈥檛 be happy in. I was eventually called up, passed my medical and found myself at Innsworth being kitted out and being taught drill, then onto Cardington for my driver training on 3 Ton Lorries - no heating and the gear change you had to double declutch. You were also shown how to change the engine oil etc. After passing my driving course I was posted to RAF Waltham, just outside Grimsby, just a short bus ride home. They were just phasing out the Wellington Twin Engine Bombers and 100 Squadron was forming of 4 engined Lancasters. We were all issued with a bicycle to get from our WAAF site to the technical site. At this time the WAAF driver鈥檚 were even doing the Davy Brown tractors towing the bombs to each respective aircraft. Thankfully this was soon phased out. We occasionally also took an airman from the instrument section to the runway where a Lancaster had been towed, checking on the navigational instrument he was nicknamed, 鈥渁n instrument basher鈥�. This was called Compass Swinging. I was driving along the perimeter track one day and I saw this flying fortress just above the tree tops, no wheels down coming towards me and it was making an emergency landing, which it did successfully. It landed on the grass about 50 yards from me and when I saw them leaving the plane safely I carried on my way.

Another time I was on night duty at sick quarters when ops were on. On these occasions they always had an extra ambulance on duty at Flying Control, together with a fire engine. It was early hours of the morning when they were due back and I was directed with medical staff to this particular Lancaster. We arrived at its dispersed points to find all the crew bar one, the rear gunner, safe. He wasn鈥檛 answering their calls and had to get to him from outside. He was unlucky having stopped a bullet between the eyes. I though what bad luck. Next day I had to take him to Binbrook to be placed in the mortuary as we did not have one at Waltham.
After arriving at the Nissen hut after night duty the first words from your colleagues would be any missing? Or are they all back?

The feeling of comradeship amongst all ranks was very prevalent at Waltham. Maybe it was because of a short bus ride to Grimsby that enabled people to mix and enjoy cinemas, dances etc. I myself was able to go home once a week, much to my parent鈥檚 relief. We occasionally had dances on the camp and we had the NAAFI to go to on the WAAF site where we billeted, The Nissen hut is still standing and houses the Rural Life Museum.

Whenever we went off camp we had to take our gas masks with us and had to be in our quarters by 23:00 hours. Security was top of the agenda. Whenever you were off camp you were not allowed to discuss anything pertaining to camp activities etc. We were not allowed any civilian clothes on camp. A spy was caught in Grimsby, so the rumour has it. Lee, a WAAF driver, always was suspicious of the Windmill on the WAAF site as she said, 鈥淭hose blades only turn when ops were on!鈥� We never found out if this was associated with the ops or not.

Strips of thin metal called windows were taking on ops on some aircraft to be dispersed over certain areas ahead of the bomber fleet to interfere with the enemy signal from the ground. Sometimes propaganda leaflets were dropped over enemy territory by the Lancs.

Sometimes an emergency would arrive. In one instance I was on night duty driving for the R.D.F. section, now known as radar, when a call came through that one of the Lanc鈥檚 still in its dispersal point, that their radar was malfunctioning. So I had to drive to this Lanc whilst other Lancs were touring around the runway and taking off. I was able to do this because there was a grass strip round the outer edge of the perimeter track, as on all airfields and the radar airman was able to do his job successfully to enable this plane to join the cue for takeoff.

One evening each week we had 鈥渄omestic鈥� night when all the WAAFs were confined to their quarters for the whole evening. This time was spent washing your smalls, ironing, polishing your shoes and buttons, washing your hair, having a bath. I think the majority of us enjoyed this break.

Then in 1944, I was posted to RAF Kelstern. This was supposedly the highest point in Lincolnshire. On some evenings you could see the vapour trails in the far distance where they were launching the doodle-bugs. One night I was in bed when I heard one of them flying over, I held my breath hoping the engine wouldn鈥檛 cut out and thankfully it went on its way.

We were stationed in the wilds of Lincolnshire and our nearest village was Binbrook. A civilian bus was laid on for those wanting to go to either Grimsby or Louth. We did have a camp cinema where even the C.O. cued up to enter. We all roughed it here.

Come April time in 1945 half of the camp went to Scampton, myself included taking our vehicles with us where I spent the rest of my days in the WAAFS.

This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by Anastasia Travers a volunteer with WM CSV Actiondesk on behalf of Joan Highfield and has been added to the site with his permission. Joan Highfield fully understands the sites terms and conditions.

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