大象传媒

As a child I grew up in southern England, the only numbers I knew were sums I had been taught at school. I left school at fourteen and started work as a nursery nurse, twelve months later months later I took a post to a navel officers family in Berry road in Gosport. I was very happy there and had plenty of friends, I loved cycling and swimming and life was good. I had a very happy life; my elder brother was in the Army stationed at Woolwich and my younger brother was at the Royal Naval school at St. Vincent in Gosport. I used to visit them both from time to time and this was all I knew of service life.

Then our lives were turned upside down, in 1939 our country declared war on Germany and on August 28th 1940 our home was hit in a heavy bombing raid on portsmouth, many people lost there lives and homes including our family. This was a tragic night for me and the one that will live with me always - life was never going to be the same again.

By the end of November 1940 I was one of a group of girls waiting for a train to the west country, for most of us the first time away from home onour own. Our destination was a W.A.F.F. camp in the north of England. On arrival we were given a meal shown into a large wooden hut, it was a long cold night. The next morning after an early call and breakfast we were lined upand taken to the stores. We were given a huge kit bag; I was then given my numbers on the kit bag. We then worked our way through the storehouse filling the kit bag with everything from shirts, knickers bras, and ties to greatcoat, tin hat, gas mask, tunic, boots, Shoes and battle dress. We then went back to the hut to change for the first time into uniform, discarded clothes were parcelled up to be sent back home and with the civvy clothes went went the last link of our pst lives. So from now on we would say "this was the day our numbers came up".

We looked smart in our uniforms but we had a lot to learn, a fornight later with aching legs and sore feet we were once again waiting for our numbers to be called. A train to the Midlands took us to Barrage balloon command training school and for the next two months we learnt all about internal combustion, how engines worked and more importantly how to keep them working! How to drive a ford lorry with a V8 engine and winch, how to splice wire rope and all about gasses and explosives used for flying balloons in raids.

After the passing out parade we could be known as B.O Balloon operators, after our name and number of course. Fourteen days followed then it was postings to sites all over the country. My first was Birmingham we travelled in R.A.F lorries. On these lorries we had everything for building a balloon bed, these had to built by crew's which consisted of eight W.A.F.F. Sites were set up on suitable vacant land and in public parks. We lived in Nissan huts with two buildings one for stores and one for ablutions/toilets. The ford lorry and winch for flying, the bedding and the balloon itself was like a big baby and had to be guarded day and night on four hour shifts.

Our balloon always had a name and if we lost one in a raid it was a sad day. On the occasion that we lost a balloon it had to be replacedof course, sometimes we worked all night. we took turns in the cookhouse cooking with duty rations that were delivered by the nearest R.A.F station - we had some very strange meals as no one had trained as cook!

This was our life for the next eighteen months during which time I was on many sites up and down the country including Scotland and Wales, I saw heavy bombing some of the night raids were terrible but we did the job. As war changed course balloons became redundent and once again "our numbers came up". I was posted back to training camps to learn new trades such as welding, metal work, woodwork an a lot more skills, having passed the tests, we would be posted. For me it would be the big four engine lancaster bomber as maintenance checker for the crews. An aircraft was only allowed certain number of flying hours before being grounded for maintenance so this was an important job. I enjoyed my work but we had some sad times when crews that we knew and worked for didn't return from raids over Germany. I stayed at Bomber command seeing VE day and later VJ day and at last the war was at an end.

I was demobbed from the W.A.F.F on the 15th November1945 with sixty days leave being married I set up home in Coventry to raise a family and found it hard to settle after five years of service life.

How the years have passed now living alone, the early years seem a dim dream so now when the past comes to mind I think to myself can I really remember my number....

Oh yes

L.A.E.W 439143 Stapleton. K

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