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Joan Woodhouse's account was related to Denis Price of the 大象传媒 People's War Team at the 大象传媒 Open Centre, Hull.

I was called up to serve in the WAAF in 1943. My trade was that of telephonist which saw me posted to RAF Weeton in Lancashire where I had two very good friends, one a fellow telephonist was Hilda Brown and the other, a clerk, was Mary Evans from Keswick where her parents had a private hotel.
I recall after being at Weeton only a few months, how Mary complained of severe headaches so we advised her to report sick which she did and was admitted to the Sick Quarters for observation and further treatment. From there she was transferred to the Victoria Hospital in Blackpool where she fell into a coma. All this happened very quickly, over a matter of several days with her parents not being informed of the seriousness of her condition by the Service Authorities. In retrospect they were aggrieved at not being informed until it was too late.
Both Hilda and I knew Mary was seriously ill but that was all. We learned later that she had contracted meningitis. We were informed of her death by an officer and that Hilda and I, being her closest friends, had to represent the Service at her funeral accompanied by an officer. Her parents wanted no other contact with the WAAF as they were very bitter over the delay in informing them of the seriousness of Mary's condition and we were the only people requested to attend by her parents.
I remember the journey from Weeton to the funeral at Keswick very clearly. The three of us, Hilda, I and the officer had each to carry two huge wreaths. The officer travelled first class and we noticed her packed lunch was not the same as ours as it was wrapped in a white napkin and ours was old cheese in thick bread wrapped in greaseproof paper and nothing to drink with it. We tried to eat the sandwiches but eventually gave up on them.
It was with great relief that we stopped at Carnforth Station where ladies of the WVS, as it was then, were handing out jam jars of lovely hot tea to Service personnel which was most welcome. I remember thinking at the time, that if my mother, who was only a few miles away in Lancaster, could have seen her well brought up daughter drinking tea from a jam jar on Carnforth Station she would have been most upset!.
As the train arrived late we had to run into Keswick from the station still carrying our huge wreaths. I recall as we turned a street corner we bumped into several small boys playing. One turned and looked directly at me and I recognised Mary's little brother who I'd met before, it was a horrible experience. I couldn't control my tears or wipe them away as I was carrying Mary's wreaths.
Being late the cortege was leaving the house as we arrived so we joined the rear of the procession until Hilda and I were ordered to 'slow march' each side of our friend's coffin to the graveside. At the burial we had to stand and salute as the coffin was slowly lowered into the grave, a terrible experience I shall never forget as we were all such close friends barely out of our teens.
This was a bad time but there were good ones as well. I had been sent to RAF Yatesbury in Wiltshire on a supervisor's course which meant that on successful completion I would be promoted to corporal. One day our instructor told us there was to be a dance at the Sergeant's Mess with good food as the main attraction to us. As we were not yet NCO's we couldn't attend but she was prepared to loan us corporal's stripes which would get us in. Unfortunately for me she ran out of these and all she had left were sergeant's three stripes which she offered to me. This seemed too grand and too risky but she insisted I'd be alright so as a very temporary new sergeant I went to the ball!
Everything was going well when I realised that one of the 'real' male sergeants had taken a fancy to me and to my embarrassment began asking me awkward questions, 'Was I new?' and 'Where was I from?' My answers seemed to be getting me into deep water so I decided with my friend to disappear through the ladies toilet back window. To my horror as I squeezed through and landed on the grass he was stood there waiting!
I went out with him for two weeks as he was a very nice chap who never once queried why I had left through the toilet window. Neither did he comment on my sudden demotion from sergeant to LACW!.

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