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I was 18 when the war broke out. We lived outside London on the Kent side of the Thames and experienced The Blitz and The Battle of Britain. That was such an awful waste of young lives and three boys from my class at school were shot down in air fights.

By the time I was 20, I was a sergeant in the A.T.S. in charge of the radar teams on a gun site in the Thames Estuary area. We had been conscripted from all walks of life, lived in nissen huts on the river marshes and only got out every 10 days. Our teams were on 24 hour duty every 4 days and did chores, maintenance and training on the other days.

Radar was in its infancy and very hush, hush. We were not allowed to talk about it in public. It gave us all the necessary information of approaching planes and this was relayed to the underground command post where the officer in charge made the decision to fire the huge anti-aircraft guns. British planes returning from bombing Europe, gave a ghost signal I.F.F. — that is; identification, friend not foe. We were bombed but fortunately they fell on marshy ground and did little harm.

There was a great feeling of fellowship in our little community and we had to make our own entertainment in the N.A.A.F.I. hut. People from outside provided beverages and eats and there were occasional E.N.S.A. concerts. Each weekend we had a little dance and I well remember our Scottish officer doing a sword dance to much cheering.

Quite often I had to go on a course to learn about the new and improved Radar equipment. Then I had to come back and teach the other girls how to operate and maintain the new sets when they arrived. With the advent of the V2 rockets, ack-ack became redundant and I was transferred to the Army Educational Corps, but that is another story.

It is honest to say I enjoyed my war years in the A.T.S. and was too young to feel any fear. It was a stimulating and very interesting period, and rewarding because I met my husband on one of the gun sites.

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