大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by a volunteer from Northumberland on behalf of Irene Guy (nee Ray). Mrs. Guy fully understands the site鈥檚 terms and conditions, and the story has been added to the site with her permission. It is written in the first person.

I was born on 1 March 1925, and served with the Women鈥檚 Royal Naval Service (W.R.N.S.), the personnel of which were referred to as Wrens, from 8 March 1944 until 19 August 1946. Having volunteered before I was nineteen years of age, on 8 March 1944 I was sent to Mill Hill, London where three weeks of interviews, and some preliminary training, followed before, finally, being accepted for service as a Wren. It was a proud day, indeed, when my uniform was received.

During short spells at Southsea and Weymouth, I got my first taste of doing three shifts, or 鈥渨atches鈥� as they were known in the Navy. It was hard to remain awake during my first night watch in a Signals Distribution Office (S.D.O.).

On 27 April, 1944, I joined HMS Squid at Southampton and remained with it until the following September. Living accommodation was in a big block of flats, in its own grounds, which also housed the offices where I worked. Entry was gained through large double gates, with two guards always on duty. When Wrens returned very late after an evening out, to avoid being reported we had to pay a 鈥渇orfeit鈥�, a quick kiss for one of the guards! While at Southampton, I was never reported for being late!!

One escapade involved two friends on the way back from Lyndhurst, where we鈥檇 been for a fish and chip supper. We got a lift in an Army truck already occupied by Army officers and Navy Sub-Lieutenants, and ended up aboard a tank landing craft (LCT) at Southampton Docks. Lots of gin was pressed upon us but the young Midshipman detailed to serve the drinks noticed my glasses were being pushed away, full. By the time he came with the next round, the atmosphere was very noisy but he whispered 鈥淚鈥檓 putting just water in your glasses鈥�, and winked at me. I must admit to having been very relieved, being mindful of Mother鈥檚 dire warning about what happened to girls who did not stay in control! Needless to say, it was very late before we returned to our accommodation.

A highlight, at the time, was when a party of Wrens was invited, officially, on board HMS Bulolo. We were given tea and tiny sandwiches, with the crusts cut off, served by big, burly sailors, followed by a short cruise down Southampton Water. HMS Bulolo was used as a Signals Headquarters ship, to direct the D-Day landings at Gold Beach.

Another spree was when, with two friends, I went to Bournemouth, to see a play written by the Aunt of one of my friends, Kate O鈥橞rien. Returning to Southampton, we鈥檇 walked many miles before an Army staff car stopped for us. I ended up sharing the back seat with a Lieutenant-Colonel and got a real drubbing down for being so foolish to hitch-hike. My friends were in the front with the driver and never spoke a word. I couldn鈥檛 stand the silence, so I started chattering. Having been told that the car was only going as far as Lyndhurst, we ended up being taken all the way back to our accommodation at Southampton. As we got out of the car, the Lieutenant-Colonel asked if I would mind if he 鈥榩honed me, so I gave him my number and, naturally, asked how I would know who was calling. Unfortunately, I cannot now remember his name. I never really expected to hear from him again but we did, in fact, become good friends. We went out together a lot, he always calling for me in the staff car, with driver, and we had some very enjoyable outings. I especially liked being taken for lunch at the Polygon Hotel, at the time reputed to be the best in Southampton. Sometimes, we went for a drive through the New Forest, where his camp was located. Once, I was given a tour of the camp in a DUKW, a peculiar vehicle capable of travelling on land and water. Flowers and chocolates were sometimes left for me at the gate of the complex where I worked, so, perhaps, it was no small wonder when I went on duty once and found a cutting from a "Readers Digest" magazine, stuck to the wall near my desk. I was in no doubt that it had been put there by one of the Sub-Lieutenants with whom we shared an office, judging by all the smirks and grins I noticed. It read:

鈥淲hen a man reaches the rank of Colonel,
It means he has become something semi-etolonel [sic, -eternal]鈥�

On 11 September 1944, I moved to HMS Shrapnel, still in Southampton but to a new abode in Archers Road and to a new workplace in the F. O. I. C. (Flag Officer-in-Charge) building at the docks. At that time, I was friendly with a Canadian soldier, Jim. One Sunday, we decided to go to the Isle of Wight, where I鈥檇 been a few times previously. We spent a few pleasant hours walking around before making our way back to the ferry. 鈥淗orror of horrors, the last ferry had left an hour beforehand!鈥� We hadn鈥檛 thought to check if the Sunday timetable was the same as that used during the week. I ended up staying at a 鈥淲renery鈥� while Jim stayed at the YMCA. For me, the result was three days CB (Confined to Barracks), sewing hems on new counterpanes!

Interspersed with the frivolity there were more serious times. Southampton had suffered a lot of damage from bombs before I was sent there but it was only when the doodle-bugs started being used by the Germans that I realised what war could really be like. On night duty once again, I was taking a signal over the telephone when we heard the sound of a doodle-bug quite near, the engine cut out, followed by the explosion when four of us, all Wrens, immediately dived under the table. My telephone was left hanging over the side of the table with a voice calling, frantically, 鈥淲hat鈥檚 happening?鈥� When all was quiet, I answered but the other party was still so frantic that I couldn鈥檛 understand her, so I said, 鈥淗ang on a sec, I鈥檝e lost my specs, I can鈥檛 hear you properly鈥�. I had my leg pulled for a long time after that! Fortunately, our building remained intact but there was a lot of damage in the surrounding area.

My final posting was on 6 March 1946, to HMS Flowerdown, near Winchester. That was a Wireless Transmission station operated by sailors with only a few Wrens to collect and distribute their signals as they were received. Plenty of tots of Rum were offered, from the sailors receiving a daily ration. Many a laugh was enjoyed with them.

Come 鈥淒emob鈥� day, or rather when I was 鈥渞eleased鈥�, as stated on my records, on 19 August 1946 I returned to Gateshead and to 鈥淐ivvy Street鈥�. Life was never quite the same again!

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