大象传媒

I did not have to join the Air Force because I was exempt due to already having a job, but I joined up in 1940. I was just coming up to 18 years of age. I was living in South Shields at the time, and I went up to Newcastle to have my medical. At first I wanted to be in the Wrens but as there were no vacancies I joined the RAF. I had had rheumatic fever as a younger girl so I was only accepted at Grade 3 鈥� doing clerical work, which I had already done before I joined the forces. I was posted down to a station at Innsworth Lane in Gloucester, which was the receiving depot for all new WARFs, as we were known. It was there that you got your first night's sleep because you had been travelling all day, and you got kitted out. Then you were taken to your billets. When I first joined up we had private billets. After we had been kitted out in Gloucester, I was sent to Pennarth in Glamorgan, South Wales. Another WARF and I were billeted together 鈥� she came from Kent and we were very good friends. We went to Cardiff, where we had tea in a cafe called the 'Slipper Cafe', and then the air-raid siren went. We had to dash for the shelters but we did not know where they were. Anyway we found what we thought was a nice big one, but what was strange was that there was nobody in it. The two of us went in, cold and wet, and we thought 鈥渨e'll be alright in here鈥�, until we looked up and could see the search-lights in the sky. We realised that it was one which was being newly built and did not have a roof yet! The air-raid warden came in and he said 鈥淐ome on you silly girls, you're sitting in a shelter without a roof鈥�. He took us to another shelter where we had to stay all night. The air-raids had put glass all over the railway lines so we could not get back to our billets, so the police let us sleep in the police station. We had breakfast the next morning then went back to our billets.

I was posted in several places after that: Padgate and Houghton Green, near Warrington. There was an American airbase not far away, in a place called Burton Wood. Whenever they had a party they would invite the WAFTs, and they also had parties for the children 鈥� they were very kind. After that I was posted up in Scotland 鈥� a lone placement, by myself. It was a little place outside of South Queensbury, where the RAF was based. It was there that I met my husband, who was in the Air Force. When I went up to report, he was on duty: you could say that I met my husband at the point of a bayonet! He had his rifle and his bayonet and he shouted 鈥淲ho goes there?鈥� You always quote the last three digits of your force's number. You never forget your force's number. I have never forgotten mine: 2091474. I even remember my husband's: 651512. It's something that is implanted in your brain forever. Nor do you ever forget the love and companionship that you find when you are in the Air Force. You fight for each other, you stick up for each other, and you find good friends who you never lose. I had one friend who I asked to write in a little book that I kept, and, because it was the last page, he wrote: 鈥淚 am at the end, but not of my tether. I hope you will remember my name forever鈥�. And he was shot down shortly afterwards.

My husband (then boyfriend) and I got engaged. We went down to Dunfermlin where we got an engagement ring 鈥� everything during the war was very simple, even wedding rings were like curtain-rings. We came back and had a big party in the night, everybody had a marvellous time. We got married when we came back home on leave. We went down to his parents' place in Great Yarmouth. It was a war-time wedding: I could not get a wedding dress because we could not get the coupons, and I could not get anything in the way of a cake 鈥� my mother managed to get rations from neighbours and friends and we got one tier. I was married in a dusky pink two-piece 鈥� I was told that I could make a white dress out of parachute silk, but I did not fancy that, because I thought that somebody's life could get better use out of that rather than my dress.

The nearest I ever got to being stationed in the Air Force was what was called a BC: a Barrage Centre for the balloons which were up to keep the aircrafts out of the way. Number 15 BC was in Newcastle-Upon-Tyne, and I was stationed there 鈥� the nearest I could get to home. It was a very big place, and outside there were all these tiny stations, for which 15 BC was the headquarters. I thought I was on Cloud Nine because I was so near to home.

Something which you must remember, is that during the war everywhere was dark. You went everywhere in darkness. There were no lights in the train, apart from a tiny little blue light here and there. When the bombs came down it was terrifying. You were just sitting there and you did not know if you were going to be hit, and if you were it was more than likely that you would be killed.

Every time I came home on leave my mother would say, 鈥淥h, you're on leave: when do you go back?鈥�, and I had only just come! I think it was because she wanted to know how long I was going to be with her. The trains were always packed when you were travelling, and Salvation Army members were always at the stations to provide you with a cup of tea. Very often you got your tea out of a jam-jar because all the crockery had been smashed, but it was still always very welcome. When you had to go back after leave everyone used to sob and cry, and you never knew where you were going until you got sent somewhere else.

One of the rules that we had to follow was that your hair had to be two inches above your collar. No matter if the bombs were raining down, your hair had to be put up. We used to sit and put up each other's hair with pipe-cleaners or whatever we could get a hold of. One night we had been sitting and doing our hair, and we were just getting ready to go to bed when we heard this almighty crash. There was a farm nearby, and a cow had escaped and got into our billets. We had just polished all the floors 鈥� you had to keep your rooms in perfect condition because the officers used to come in and inspect 鈥� and this cow came in, so we were all squealing, 鈥淚t's a cow, it's a cow, get it out, it will dirty our floor!鈥� Then the SP's heard the commotion and came in, and they got the cow out: fortunately the floor was just as it was before.

When we were on the smaller sites we all used to have to take turns in cooking the supper for the men, when the cook went off duty. So we learnt how to cook as part of the parcel.

I had to have my appendix out during the war. I went to the RVI hospital in Newcastle, and at the time I was posted in Scotland and had been travelling on the train, so I was carrying the full kit. I was walking along to this camp in Scotland, and an RAF lorry stopped to ask me where I was going. The man told me to hop in, he said 鈥淚'm going to the sick bay, you'll get a cup of tea鈥�. So I went with him, and when we got there a medical officer saw me, and he said 鈥淵ou look tired鈥�, and I said 鈥淚 am, and I'm sore鈥�. He asked me why and I told him that I had had my appendix out. He said 鈥淕et in there鈥� (the examining room), 鈥測ou shouldn't have been carrying a full kit 鈥� let me have a look at you鈥�. After examining me, he said 鈥淵ou stay here for the night and from tomorrow you're going on three weeks' leave鈥�. So I got leave straight away, which was great!

After the war I was sent to a place just outside of Birmingham, where I was given a princely sum 鈥� in fact it was just a small amount but we thought it was a princely sum. Then we were de-mobbed, and we came back into civilisation. Lots of the men who were in the Air Force were kept there a little bit longer. My husband had been in the Air Force before the war started 鈥� he had joined up because he lost his mother. I would not ever like to have not been in the forces. It is a part of my life that I would not like to have missed. I had travelled to all sorts of places. Ofcourse there were sad times because you lost a lot of friends. The hardships were dreadful, but there was the light-hearted part of it as well.

漏 Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.