大象传媒

Naturally I have memories of my life in the W.A.A.F. during the 1939-45 war, but the first that comes to mind concerns my having to face whether or not I should have joined, especially as I had been in a reserved occupation in the Home Office and had to wait for permission to volunteer.

My service roll was as a Special Duties Clerk assigned to plotting in an Operations Room and my second posting was to Drem in Scotland. The Ops Room was on the edge of the village of Drem and I was billeted in North Berwick on the coast of the Firth of Forth. As usual, wherever I was sent I looked for a church for Sunday worship when duty times allowed. One day the local minister invited me to his home for a meeting with other service women.

Arriving at his home I found I was the only British woman; the others were Polish service women. A pleasant conversation ensued until one Polish lady asked, with considerable spirit, why Polish women were not allowed to carry arms together with their male colleagues. The minister quickly jumped in to sternly declare that it was a sin for women to kill. I then said that God declared that it was a sin to kill, but He did not specify only women. I also told him that he had no idea of the ordeals that these Polish women had suffered in their country, with relatives and friends killed and homes and lives destroyed. They had miraculously escaped and naturally wanted to fight side by side with their menfolk, just as they had done in Poland. His only reply was that I was wrong, even though I explained that the accuracy of my work in our Ops Room enabled our airmen to locate enemy aircraft and shoot them down. I did not fire the gun, but did that make me innocent?

I don't remember leaving, but I do remember standing on the cliff top, looking down at the waves thundering on to the beach. I felt God's anger. Was it towards me or just to the world at large? It was a horrible moment until after some time I noted the sea was less rough and the waves just slapped gently on the sand. It was then I remembered God's forgiveness. From then on I felt I had to do whatever duty was set before me to the best of my ability and God would understand as long as I took no delight in whatever aspect of my service life contributed to the killing while I was helping in a defensive battle.

The next occasions that I would mention are vastly different in character. From Drem I was posted to 11 Group's highly thought of Ops. room at Stanmore. This should have been a very much more interesting post, but somehow I didn't think it would be easy to fit in with the other women there. It so happened that half way through 'booking in' there was a Tannoy announcement that volunteers were required to join S.H.A.E.F. (Eisenhower's Supreme Head Quarters Allied Expeditionary Force). I had no idea of what was entailed, but instinct called me to get there quickly. I don't think the obviously high society women in the rest room of the Ops. room even noticed me leaving and I certainly didn't want to listen to their conversation any longer.

I was accepted by S.H.A.E.F. and found nice people of various nationalities to work with. My job was to keep track of British aircraft and airmen casualties from reports submitted subsequent to flights made. When the day came that the sky was black with aircraft flying out for 'D' day I wondered how many would return. Eventually I had the opportunity to go to France just as Paris was being liberated. We flew by Dakota (my very first flight) low over the sea to keep below German radar and any butterflies I might have had before the flight quickly disappeared. We kept low over France and it was an absolute delight to see French women run out from the farm houses to wave their aprons as a welcome. It presaged well for my time in S.H.A.E.F.

Before leaving we had to hand in one tunic, one skirt and one of two pairs of shoes. These were replaced by one blouson, one pair of trousers and a pair of ankle high boots which proved far too uncomfortable to wear. It turned out that on arrival in France it was decided that ladies wearing trousers was unaccepatble in France, so only drivers on duty could make use of them and the rest of us only wore them in our billets to save the wear on our only skirt. The loss of one pair of shoes and the absence of any shoe repair facilities meant that by winter the holes in the soles of our shoes had to be covered by a layer of paper or thin cardboard inside - not very pleasant in rain or snow!

We landed on the outskirts of Paris and drove to Versailles where after a short time in one of the 茅curies we worked in outbuildings of the Plais. Walking to and from work was indeed a pleasure through the wonderful gardens.

We were billeted in a sealed off end of a Foreign Legion barracks in Versailles which had been checked for possible explosives left behind by the Germans. French workmen eventually improved the pit in the ground in one of the squares, linked by archways, that served as a latrine and they installed cold water showers (open fronted) nearby, This led to them walking through with their bags of tools to some 'imaginary' job to say as they passed, "Bonjour" mademoiselle, ah, mademoiselle!". They meant no harm and any small luxuries like chocolate or cigarettes left on our beds while we were in the mess were never taken, even though these things could have been sold or exchanged for necessities not available to them.

The first evening in France, two other girls and I were called to the Admin. Office to be told that three young Frenchmen had brought an invitation for three English ladies to attend a civic occasion where we would be guests of honour and we had been chosen. At the appointed time we were introduced to three young students wearing impressive cloaks. they walked with us, not a hall as we had expected but to a street of largish houses and we were led inside one and then, to our concern, downstairs to a room in the cellar, furnished only with a small bar in the corner. There was no opportunity for us girls to discuss this unexpected turn of events and we kept close together. The men spoke excellent English. We accepted a little food and a small drink each which we managed to make last the whole evening, being particularly vague and unco-operative when answering their many questions. Eventually we were released and taken back to the barracks where we reported the evening's events. The men called for us the following evening and we had the satisfaction of seeing them led away.

Our first breakfast proved interesting. The British WAAF, ATS and WRENS came immaculately and correctly addressed, but who were these women wearing pyjamas and dressing gowns, even in Britain? We then noticed they had thier hair in curlers and faces spread with cream. I had my answer at the office when two American girls accused me of ignoring them at breakfast. I couldn't even have recognised them. It seemed they had more than twice our allowance of uniform clothing and looked down at our cooks because they could not have clean stratched collars every day. We had only two shirts and three collars and while the Americans somehow had a satisfactory laundry service, we WAAF had oply a spasmodic service and had to make do with washing our clothes very often, only using cold water. For starching our collars we rubbed soap on them after laundering and stuck them onto windows to dry, but this could only be done in the evening and overnight. The following morning any damp clothing had to be packed into our kitbags with the rest of our uniform as nothing was allowed to be left out, possibly in case we had to move out at short notice. We were a little envious of the few WRENS as we noticed they were allowed to leave their beds made and they had very smart white bedspreads (no bunks for them) which had a beautiful naval design on them.

I quickly made friends with two French families, helping them out with dried milk from home for their babies. Food generally was a problem for them and if women could not breastfeed their babies, milk was only allowed for the first three months and almost all the children were said to have rickets.

On one occasion it seemed that the local gendarmes had arranged the release of German prisoners from the Legionaires' custody and as a result gendarmes and legionaires were involved in armed fighting in the streets of Versailles. We were, therefore, not to walk to our various offices and were taken there by lorry with a young airman armed with a rifle which he aimed at us instead of the conflict outside until we made him turn round!

Visits to Paris where, surprisingly, one could stroll leisurely across La Place de la Concorde with hardly a vehicle in sight, certainly no civilian ones. I was able to visit a delightful Frenchman and his wife who lived near the Eiffel Tower whom I had met on holiday in Brighton and learned of his involvement with the Maquis who had been working against the Germans during thier occupation of Paris. On one occasion I was invited to dinner to meet some important guests. The meal produced course after course - Andr茅, my host was obviously well connected with the black market - and although I had tried to eat sparingly, I eventually reached the point where I could eat no more. My French was never my best subject at school, but I did manage to say, "Madame, vous ete tr猫s gentile, mais je suis plein" (Madame you are very kind, but I am full). The room suddenly went very quiet and the other guests stopped eating and looked at one another with alarm. I turned to Andr茅 and asked what was the problem. His reply was, "Jacqueline, you have just told them that you are pregnant!" Happily he recognised my problem and explained my misuse of thier language to his other guests. No wonder this polite and proper company had been so startled. Andr茅 was able to speak seven languages other than his native tongue.

It was a very cold winter and although we had stoves in our billet rooms, we had no fuel for them. If a dance had been arranged, that helped us keep warm until bedtime, otherwise we would walk around Versailles until we could walk no more and then we would go to an estaminet, make one drink last as long as possible without getting more than ususal strange looks from the owner and his other customers, before resuming our walk. Eventually, of course, we would have to resort to another estaminet.

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