大象传媒

When I volunteered for Overseas Service, I was stationed at South Wales District Headquarters in Abergavenny. Much of our work was involved with preparations for troops going overseas to France on D Day. South Wales was considered a fairly safe area for the accumulation of troops.

By early June 1944 I had finished embarkation leave and was in London with fellow A.T.S. On June 7th we left St Pancras by train for Glasgow. As D Day had started, we were to go by troopship from Glasgow to Naples to avoid the Channel with all the activity there.

Sailing on June 10th, we were sung out well into the Atlantic and encountered very rough seas. Some girls were so ill, they were really wishing to die! Some of the sailors were so bad they were about the same. However, I was lucky and thoroughly enjoyed the voyage. Being young and stupid then, I never worried about the possibility of our ship, the 鈥淥rontes鈥� being torpedoed or attacked from the air. We were, of course, in an escorted convoy. The girls were looked after much better than the men, always the case in the Army. For Air Raid Drill we had to go down to the stuffy, smelly bowels of the ship where the men slept in very cramped conditions. Plenty of life and fun on board, games in the sunshine on the deck, P.E, more like the old fashioned drill to keep us fit-quite tricky on deck on a swaying ship. We sailed quite close to the North African coast, thrilling to see that for the first time.

Disembarking in Naples, I saw my first German Prisoners of War. They looked so very young and harmless being herded along. However, it had been decided that Italy was still too dangerous for A.T.S so we re-embarked and sailed back to Oran. From there we travelled by train to Algiers, a 24 hour journey on a very uncomfortable and very primitive train. For a month or so we worked at the Allied Forces Headquarters there, then we sailed back to Naples, moving straight up to Caserta Palace, the joint H.Q of the British and the Americans. Eisenhower was there.

In spite of all the activity there, the work I was doing was of little value or importance, so different from what I had done in South Wales. Our particularly good Colonel in Abergavenny heard this from one of my friends and he arranged for me to be transferred to Allied Commission in Rome where I remained for the rest of the war. I was back as a Sergeant running the Patriot鈥檚 Branch of A.C with a staff of Italian girls, all well-educated and excellent workers. They of course, spoke English, but helped me with Italian. Having done Latin at school I was soon enjoying the language. Our boss was Major Sir Philip Magnus. He and his wife owned Stokesay Castle near Ludlow. He did not impress us, but he turned out to be quite an eminent author and historian.

Our office was in the centre of Rome, in Via Veneto, a joy to be working in such lovely surroundings. The staff were both American and British and we all got on very well together. It was the first posting for most of the Americans, but nearly all the British had been wounded in some way on Active Service and been sent to A.C when no longer fit physically. There were also some Italian Officers working there, we always felt their allegiance to be rather doubtful. We felt they would soon change to the German side if the Allies were in trouble.

At this time there was only one other A.T.S in Rome. We were attached to any A.T.S Unit passing through, so really felt very free. All the N.A.A.F.I girls who went abroad had to go into army uniform, Expeditionary Force inst. A very large store in Rome had been taken over to provide canteens, relaxation, entertainment, etc. for the Forces. The E.F.I girls lived in the flat above the store, so we lived there with them. Although we wore uniform to work, we were able to wear civilian clothes off duty, much appreciated in that lovely Italian sunshine.

By this time there was, of course, no fighting near Rome, the 8th Army having worked their way gradually up north, past Monte Cassini etc. at Patriots鈥� Branch where I worked we were trying to help the Partisans who had fought the Germans and thus helped the Allies. Very difficult for those in authority to know on whose side some of these Italians had been. The occupying forces had responsibility for keeping the peace, providing all the services such as health, transport, etc. which had gone to pieces during the war. The Italians did not seem to be good organisers. North of Rome many bridges had gone and Bailey Bridges had to be erected. Fortunately the wonderful Ponte Vecchio in Florence survived.

To many, like me, it was a thrill to be in such a magnificent city. Our off-duty time was never wasted, walking round all those fabulous historical sites, visiting the Vatican of course, strolling in the lovely Pincio gardens of an evening and to opera, ballet and concerts at every opportunity. Others with different interests went to livelier places and sampled plenty of Italian wine. Many soldiers made dates with attractive Italian girls to go to a dance, but were surprised when mother or grandmother turned up to be a chaperone for the evening.

However, those in the poorer areas of Rome led quite different lives. The poverty in the back streets was so much in contrast to the vast wealth and beauty in the Vatican. Plenty of crime abounded. Many times I would wake in the middle of the night to hear shooting in the distance. Money and food were short for very many poorer Italians. Younger men were experts at picking pockets, etc. An Army vehicle open at the rear would need somebody sitting on guard at the back, or the goods would soon disappear. Cigarettes were particularly precious 鈥� cheap for the forces, not considered harmful in those days of course. Non-smokers could exchange them for any other Italian goods.

Although my friends and I were not Roman Catholics, we would often go to St. Peter鈥檚, especially for celebrations on Christmas Eve, New Year鈥檚 Eve, etc. The church and the square would be packed with thousands at those times, all nationalities. The Pope gave regular audiences for the Forces when he would bless any religious items we had purchased, so we could send them to our Catholic friends at home. The behaviour of many of the young Italian men often shocked us in St Peter鈥檚. They would be more interested in picking up women than taking notice of the service.

Even in war-time Rome was a lively, exciting city, bustling with life and activities of every sort. Forces of many countries came through, but mainly the British and Americans. More A.T.S joined us later in Rome. We then lived in the Imperial Hotel on Via Veneto which was the Y.W.C.A for the British in Rome, well-run and very welcoming to us all. For dances, theatre, opera etc., there were always plenty of escorts for us all.

I met my husband, Jim Stiles, at one of the dances, not that he was a keen dancer at, but a musician, loving classical music, brass bands and opera. We were regulars to the Opera House where perfect productions of opera and ballet seemed completely unaffected by the war still in progress in Northern Italy. Our favourite was the open-air opera at the Baths of Cavalleria Rustican on a hot summer night,

Jim had been in the Loyal Regiment, then joined No.4 Commando under Lord Lovat, training at Inverary in Scotland for landing by parachute in enemy country. As the Medical Corporal he had taken part in raids on Norway, Dieppe and, of course, France at D Day, landing at Arromanche. No longer A1, he had come to Rome and ran the Medical Section at Allied Commission Offices.

On 28th July 1945, we were married at the Church of Tutti Santi, (All Saints) the British church in Rome. A very thrilling day with despatch riders, accompanying us as we drove through Rome to the reception at the Imperial Hotel. Our honeymoon was spent at Fiesole, a lovely little village in the hills outside Florence. We were fortunate in being allowed to live together in the Imperial Hotel for the next few months.

With the war over, troops were gradually brought back for de-mob. Our A.T.S Unit came by train, travelling through Switzerland in the night. How the Swiss welcomed us! Hot drinks and refreshments at any station where we halted. We were invited to leave the train to spend a day there, being told it would be easy as troop trains were passing through all the time. Alas, one did not do that sort of thing when in the Army.

It is hard to believe this all happened 60 years ago, but the memory is vivid in my mind. A wonderful experience in many ways, but I know how lucky I was when I think of what millions had to suffer in their war time service, and even today, many are paying the price. Of friends with me in Rome, only three remain, two in the States and our best man, an ex Guardsman in Devon, who was badly shell-shocked over 60 years ago.

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