大象传媒

Only the older members of the community who were in the Armed Forces during the war, will remember that you are accountable to somebody for all the 24 hours of each day. Two 19 year old W.A.A.F鈥檚 either forgot, or didn鈥檛 know in the first place about this ruling.
As budding wireless operators, we were posted to Bally-Kelly Aerodrome in Northern Ireland, to practise our skills in a new situation, not from ground to aircraft, but from aircraft to ground.
Armed with our travel documents, we proceeded from Manchester Victoria Station to Preston, where we were supposed to pick up the night train to Stranraer.
Another thing only the older member of the Armed Forces will know, was that during the war, free refreshments were provided at major stations for members of the Forces that were passing through, so when Kathy and I landed on Preston Station, our first thought was the free nosh in the Forces Canteen.
Armed with a fist full of sandwiches and a mug of tea, we watched trains coming and going, laughing gaily as the train lights disappeared into the tunnel.
鈥淲ouldn鈥檛 it be funny,鈥� we said, 鈥� if that was our train?鈥�
As a matter of fact it was, and the boat train to Stranraer only ran once a day. We should at this point have gone to the R.T.O. (Railway Transport Office) to report the fact that we had missed it, it never entered out heads. We headed straight into Preston for the evening, to find the local dance hall where we enjoyed a great night.
The Y.W.C.A. fixed us up with board and lodgings for the night and we spent the next day scrounging around Preston until it was time to catch the boat train to Stranraer again.
We were a bit put out to be met by the Military Police at Stranraer. They wanted to know why we hadn鈥檛 arrived on the date stated on our travel documents. It sounded a bit thin to say we were too busy eating to get on the train However, we duly arrived at Bally-Kelly Aerodrome to experience what was for the two of us, our first taste of flying.
Lancaster Bombers were not equipped for passengers, so we were accommodated in the cargo hold. For four hours we flew back and forth over Ireland, not as you might imagine busily employed tapping morse code messages to the ground as intended, but being horribly sick through the bomb-bay doors. At one point the crew allowed us into the pilots cabin to try to take our minds of our stomachs.
This procedure went on for three days. Even now when anybody mentions flying, I always remember my first twelve hours flying time in that Lancaster Bomber.
To make matters worse, Kathy and I were both put on a charge when we got back to camp in England for failing to report our whereabouts to the authorities. I could imagine the signals going back and forth from England to Ireland with some irate Sergeant saying, 鈥淲here have those bloody W.A.A.F鈥檚 got to?鈥�

Margery Saunders.
Oldham, Lancashire.

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