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This story was submitted to the People's War site by a volunteer on behalf of Olive Wildman and has been added to the site with her permission. Olive Wildman understands the site's terms and conditions.

"My family was very proactive during the war. We were from local town called Sharnbrook in Bedfordshire and yet it seemed that we worked all around the world. My mother was an air raid warden, which meant that she was responsible for informing people that an air raid was imminent. One of my brothers was a royal marine and another was in the Royal Navy. This meant that they were away from home for the majority of the war, in various parts of the world. My third brother was part of the Bells and Herts Regiment and was kept as a Prisoner of War in a Japanese concentration camp whilst he was serving his duty. I was motivated to volunteer for the WAFFS in order to help with the war effort. Although my sister was unwilling, she was also made to join with me. Initially I volunteered in the Munitions factory in Rushden. I was only 20 years old at the time and I had never traveled very far by myself before. I was then to serve for 4 years in various places around England, Morecombe, Kirkum and Lancashire. I cried when I first left home, but you soon got used to a life of work.
I was stationed in Wotton in 1941 for a long time. I worked in the Officer’s Mess where I organized meals for the Dekoters, or airforce bombers as they were otherwise known. There were often around 60-70 men there at a time. There were many different men, some were the life and soul of the party, but others were more reserved and not used to being waited on by others. It was fascinating for me to meet so many different types of people. Especially when there were organized dances on the airfield, where an air force band used to entertain us into the small hours of the morning. During all this I always remembered my husband (who was only to become my husband 6 months after arriving back from the war). He had joined the Medical Corps because of his job serving the St John’s Ambulance. Although we wrote to each other regularly, I never realized the extent of his experiences, until he arrived home. I did not see him till the end of the war because he spent his embarkation leave in Malta. This is where he was responsible for collecting the corpses of those soldiers who had fought bravely for the British army. He came back a changed person………..more nervous and always unwilling to watch programs about the war.
After I heard of my husbands experiences, I feel glad that I volunteered my help for the service corps. It was in the best interests of the people at home to keep the country running, whilst the husbands, fathers and brothers fought bravely for victory."

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