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This story has been added by CSV volunteer Linda Clark on behalf of the author the Revd. Canon Ivy Frith. They both understand the site's terms and conditions.

It was nearly five years after the outbreak of World War 2 that the all-important invasion of Europe took place. But there was still a long way to go. Hitler had one or two more surprises in store for us. Within a week of D Day, from occupied Holland, the Germans began launching the first of their secret pilot-less rockets on to Southern England. During the second half of June, that year, something like a thousand of these V1’s landed on London. Their one ton cargo of high explosives caused considerable destruction.

The next secret weapon followed within three months. The V2 was even more frightening than the V1. It was a silent weapon, too fast to be detected by radar, a huge rocket that was catapulted from Europe. But it marked the beginning of the end.

Within a year of D Day the war in Europe was over and although I would not be demobbed for another year, much thought had to be given to the future. Though, perhaps ‘much thought’ is not the right term to use. For, though I could not put a name to the occupation that held the key to my future, one thing was certain. I was convinced in my own mind that it was within the confines of the Church.

I recall a conversation with a young priest, Wilfred Browning, who was curate of Christ Church, Woburn Square from 1944 — 1946. It was he who initiated the conversation and asked me what I intended to do once I left the Army. Having answered vaguely that I felt I wanted to do something for the Church, he promptly provided me with a leaflet explaining something about Church lay workers. In those days, one just took it for granted that the position of women within the Church was severely restricted. I got in touch with the London Diocesan Office in Bedford Square and discovered that to train as a Woman Worker I could apply, when free, to spend two years at a Theological College like St. Christopher’s, Blackheath.

Those were confusing days. Up to the time when demobilisation commenced, we Accounting Machine Operators had rejected any attempt to promote us. With one exception we turned down the chance of taking charge of a section simply because it would have meant giving up our posts on the machines. Even the offer of Sergeants stripes were not enough to tempt us. Inevitably, once the ranks began to diminish we had to reconsider the situation.

For me it meant two periods of indecision. I was approached initially to move to a Training Camp as a Drill Sergeant for a period of six months and then when that failed it was back to the chance of overseeing the Section. Neither of these suggestions were possible, at least as far as I was concerned. The authorities had managed to hoist themselves on their own petard! It had been decided that service men and women who had served with the colours for a given period, could be awarded a grant to cover their fees if they wanted to embark upon a period of study. The snag was that your demobilisation number had to be presented to the applicable place of learning, before they could offer you a place and the War Office did not allow for a sufficient length of time between informing Service Personnel of their Demobilisation Number and the demobilisation itself.

Although the war with Japan was still in progress, a different mind set was obvious. On the whole, the system for demobilisation was governed by the premises that ‘first in meant first out’. I think it was April 1946 when my number came up and I was due for release in June. On the great day we had to report to the office as usual. We were then transported to Guildford in a very comfortable Army Truck. There we had to hand in some articles of our uniform, collect civilian ration books, a few clothing coupons and a Railway Warrant to take us back to London or wherever we needed to go. We were very short of clothing and I well remember having a khaki tunic, skirt and greatcoat, dyed bottle green.

One great bonus attached to demobilisation was the two months leave that went with it. It was, of course, a necessary arrangement which allowed individuals to sort out their future, something which is not always that easy and tends to become time consuming. I was fortunate. My demob leave started on the feast of Corpus Christi and ended on the Feast of the Assumption. I applied for a place at St. Christophers Theological College, Blackheath and for a grant to cover the two year course in Theology and Religious Education. I was awarded both without any problems and was able to enjoy an extended leave until the course began in September 1946

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