大象传媒

My story has been submitted in 3 parts:

Part 1: Training & First Postings - A4123793
RNC GREENWICH (Training)
HMS SKIRMISHER (Wren)
HMS WATCHFUL (Leading Wren)

Part 2: Plotting & Ops Officer - A4146004
HMS EAGLET Liverpool; HMS
PHROSOPINE Orkney; HMS HERON
I.O.W. over D-Day Landings;
HMS DARTMOUTH Devon over VE Day

Part 3: Operations Officer
HMS DARTMOUTH Devon after D-Day;
VE Day and VJ Day

Part 3
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I was posted to Dartmouth from the Isle of Wight in 1945. Having served there over the thrilling D-Day landings in 1944 and trying to help get our troops to the French beaches and those wounded back to to U.K. safely in ships and boats of every size and shape. The bombing and mining was almost incessant and the courage and sacrifices of those involved was unforgetable.

Dartmouth was so peaceful by comparison and I loved my snug room in "Newcomen Cottage" on Ridge Hill (there being no WRNS quarters in the Naval College) with glorious views over roof tops that were never on the same level, and streets that were never straight - down to the beautiful harbour below.

One of my better jobs was organising the Liberty boats - which were always crewed by Wrens. They scuttled about the harbour like outsized water beetles in their meticulously maintained boats - totally regardless of the time or weather - ferrying naval personnel, stores, equipment or whatever ships required. I always found the only thing boatscrew Wrens did not enjoy was inactivity.

I sometimes borrowed a bicycle, when off-duty, but found the time pushing it uphill exhausting and the speed of descent hair-raising, so I usually walked. I found the countryside breathtakingly beautiful and endlessly interesting. No cathedrals, churches or houses of prayer were ever closed during the war; I found St Saviour's full of peace. I remember leaning against the massive old yew in the small churchyard in Stoke Gabriel and wishing it could talk. I did not know at the time, that I only had to walk backwards round it and my wish would have been granted.

When the VE signal came I was off duty, but the message spread through Dartmouth with the speed of lightning. The always wecome "All Clear" on the sirens brought everyone onto the streets to shout, cheer, clap, sing and dance. I would think it was an unique spectacle for any English town since the end of the First World War. When the glorious sound of the church bells - silent for so long - rang again and again I don't think there were many dry eyes.

As the next day dawned thoughts of celebrations were uppermost. Union Jacks of all sizes appeared from the windows and the rooftops of most houses. Where they did not, one's heart and prayers went out in deepest sympathy and understanding.

Somehow I couldn't find the right mood to celebrate, thinking of my 2 brothers, fiance and many dear friends I would not find again in this life. So I greatly enhanced my popularity (and pride) by offering to take over every possible duty I could manage. Left with numerous phone numbers in case of emergency I found myself alone in the Operations Office. The time slipped by, interrupted only by the happy chatter from the coastguards - those wonderful men who had guarded every mile of our coastline throughout the war.

There were a few sailors who fell into the harbour - presumably having celebrated to excess! - but they were quickly fished out of the by the ever-ready Wren boatscrews. I could not witness the rescues, but the descriptions the Wrens gave me later were hilarious.

After VE Day the next three months dragged heavily. The power adrenalin of excite-ment, danger and anger was increasingly being overcome by war weariness, sadness and often despair of the future. A few of our smaller warships came into harbour to be "mothballed" and their crews laid off.

I was still in Dartmouth for VJ Day on the 14th August, 1945. Once again Union Jacks and bunting fluttered on some garden gates, denoting the return of loved ones, bringing great joy - also bitter grief to homes that stayed incomplete. Children began to return home, bringing life and noise to the town. Shops were still very empty but there were signs of such rarities as fresh eggs, bread and milk making their come-back. Soon the RNC would be welcoming back their cadets.

When I was demobbed I can't explain my feelings as I packed my dearly loved WRNS uniform for the last time in Newcomen Cottage. I looked out of the window of my lofty little room for a long time, looking at the view that helped me so much over the last few months. Come rain, mist, fog or sunshine - that view of the harbour had given me - What? I can't explain, just perhaps if strengthened my belief that goodness must prevail and gave me the courage to return to such a shattered world.

Note: This story is an extract from the story I wrote for the Dartmouth History Research Group Paper 12; it forms part of "A Wrens-Eye View of Wartime Dartmouth" compiled by Ray Freeman. Published by the Dartmouth History Research Group in association with Dartmouth Museum 1994. (ISBN 1 899011 01 3).

Copies are available from:

Dartmouth Museum, The Butterwalk, Dartmouth, Devon &

The Harbour Bookshop, 12 Fairfax Place, Dartmouth, Devon TQ6 9AE (Tel & Fax No. 01843 832448)

I would be delighted if anybody reading this story who remembers me could get in contact through the People's War website. Thank you.

Story: This story has beem submitted to the People's War site by Muriel Palmer (volunteer) of Age Concern Shropshire Telford & Wrekin on behalf of PA Thornycroft (author) and has been added to the site with her permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

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