大象传媒

I was 17 when war broke out.
My job was as a window dresser, and I was working for the Queen's dressmaker.
We designed all sorts of clothes. It was a nice experience and working in central London was very interesting.

I volunteered for the war and joined the RAF.
For my first posting I was sent to Gloucester.
I'd never been away from home before for any length of time, this worried me
.
They offered me a commission. What will I do for money? What will I do for a uniform?
I wrongly presumed officers had to buy their own uniform, so I declined.

I was sent to Staffordshire. My first posting after training.
On the train someone started talking about a murder that had just happened on the local moors.
I just sat there, shivering.
When I got to the station there was deserted, except for the Station Master. He suggested I walked through the woods along the path to the barracks.
Well! I was not doing that.
I stayed there with him, until the next train arrived and asked a soldier to walk with me.
When we got to the barracks a guard said 'Halt who goes there, friend or foe', (would anyone answer foe?).
No one had told me how to answer, so my escort told me to say 'friend'.
I got in and collected what they called 'biscuits'.
That was three pieces of bedding, which I had to carry to a hut.
It was an empty hut. There I was, on my own, and remembering the conversation on the train about the murder. Well that was the worst experience I had throughout the war.
I was terrified. I put all the bedding over me including my tin hat and respirator, and pretended I was still safely at home.

Because I had been involved in window dressing they put me in equipment, it was dreadful.
We had Fleet Air Arm, Army, and Navy personnel, all training to be mechanics.

I did so hate what I was doing, so they sent me home on compassionate leave.
I arrived at home with blisters on my hands from the heavy work.
My mother said that I was not going back, and she meant it.
I said 'Mum there's a war on'.
Anyway I went back and was sent for by an officer, she kept allowing me to glimpse what she was reading, it was a letter from my mother. I recognised it, because my mother's handwriting was so unusual, She had written to the officer to say that she wanted me home.
My commanding officer talked to me at length, and gave me the choice of staying where I was, or going home.

I became a very good WRAF.

Next went into navigation.
I completed my training and became a Corporal.
When an aircrew were sent abroad I organised their flight charts and maps, it was wonderful.
I did that for the rest of the war but at different places.
Calshot - Coastal Command - Liverpool, to the Royal Liver Building, where we were 'The War Diaries'.
My officers would ask me very strange questions, like where were the Nicobar Islands and what are they?
Well, at the start with of course I had no idea, but quickly learnt.
Another question that came up was, where was Wick?
I soon found out. I was sent there.
It was as far North as you could go, at least with Fighter Command.
There was a Polish squadron based there, and German prisoners of war in the camp.
I remember vividly we used to go out at night and sit on the rocks fishing.
That was a fairly peaceful time
Four officers came to see me, they knew there had been a bit of a problem before I was posted.
I was cross when I was posted, and they wanted to know if I had settled down, or whether I would like to go back nearer to home.
I was happy there, I'd made a very good life and at last left my home and past behind me. It was quite a wonderful place to be.
Needless to say I was transferred this time to Oban.

I was demobbed shortly after VJ day and got a job at British Telephones, met an engineer and married him fairly soon after.
Basically I enjoyed the war, but there was sadness.
I had a cousin, a member of a submarine crew, and my brother in law, a Rear Gunner in a bomber, was killed in action.

The only problem I had, was that I hurt my foot and had to go into an Army service hospital.

Happily I survived everything.

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