大象传媒

Not long after my seventeenth birthday I decided that i was now old enough to enlist in the services. The WAAFS were my first choice. From an early age Imemories of had read about Amy Johnson, who flew almost around the world. I just wanted to fly, but this was not to be. I had left school before I was fourteen and my first job was in a paper mill where we were doing war work for the navy. It was tiring, but not so tiring as I went dancing every night of the week. Dancing was our main enjoyment. All the little villages had their own bands and we walked for miles to see if they were any good. There was no transport, so even though we danced till midnight we still had to walk back home.
This was a release from all the bad news that was a constant reminder of war, bombing raids, the austere diets, and barbwire all along the coast, no swimming even if we wanted to. Not so good news on the Western Front, Japan bombing Pearl Harbour, their suicide pilots. Fortunately we missed most of the enemy bombs as the barrage balloons over the Forth Bridge protected the ships, especially during the lead up to D Day. I have memories of all the ships packed like sardines: small ones merchant ships, war ships, i lost count of the different ships, they filled the Firth of Forth to the North Sea. I could not even count how many there were. I dreaded the thought that if the enemy bomber dropped even one bomb on the ships, the whole of the fleet would have been sunk.
Not long after my seventeenth birthday I applied to join the WAAFS, and had been notified that I had I would start my training. But it was not until September 1st 1944 that I was enlisted to go to RAF Wimslow to start my training. This was exciting news and especially as I had never been to England before.
The start of the training included marching, this I loved as we had a band at times and it made one feel like dancing. There was the usual cleaning and brassoing uniform buttons, putting a shine on our shoes, how to make up your bed. I took to it like a duck takes to water. We were confined to camp for six weeks because some of the WAAFS were fraternising with the enemy prisoners. We were all punished, as the culprits did not own up.
It came the time for our first posting. We all assembled in the cinema. As my name was called my heart sank when I heard where I was to go. It was to join 19 OTU Bomber Command at RAF Kinloss in Morayshire. Coming from the lowlands of Scotland it felt as if I was being sent to the North Pole.
I had to report to Crewe station in time to catch the midnight express to Aberdeen where I would get a connection to the small station at Kinloss. As I waited for my train to arrive another train came and unloaded German prisoners of war. I could not believe my eyes when I saw how young they were, they all looked no more than fifteen or sixteen years old. I did not realize that I myself did not look much older.
The journey took over eight hours but it did not seem that long. I travelled with Canadian airmen who were very kind to me, they polished my shoes and cleaned and brassoed my uniform buttons. I guess being so young I may have reminded them of their own sisters. When we stopped at Aberdeen the WVS came with tea and sandwiches. It was much appreciated, especially as it was the early hours of the morning, dark and miserable, and yet they were so kind, you might say unsung heroes of the war.
It was around eight in the morning when Ilanded at the station at Kinloss. It was a nightmare carrying all my kit etc for it was about over a mile to walk, though it did seem longer. When I arrived at the guardroom to book in I was told my billet was Seapark House, which was a lovely old place. About ten others shared the room I was in. It looked as if the room had been the music room of the house, all around the ceiling were carved angels playing an assortment of musical instruments. In the corner of the room there was a massive organ.
My bed was in front of the window. The orderly officer on the round would open the window wide even in the middle of frost and snow. It was not unusual for me to be disturbed during the night with girls who climbed in over my bed, hoping that the orderly officer would not catch them out.
The back of the house was near Findhorn Bay, it was a nightmare for returning planes. Many a plane overshot and I gather a few landed in the Bay.
I had the job of waitress because of my lack of education qualifications. This got me in contact with all the aircrew and getting to chat with them made my day, though when you had got the news that the crews that you had been chatting with the previous day did not return it was then that the war hit home. I had to take my turn on night shift, making sure that the visiting aircrew had a meal before going off on their bombing raids. I had to carry about a hundred mugs in a large wicker paper basket and await theire return in the hours of the morning. The night I remember most of all,was ing the young men, who did not look much older than myself, looking pale and strained before leaving for the raid. When they returned,they gave us the news they were with the news that they had sunk the Tirpitz. I gather that today there is some controversy about who actually sunk the ship, but I am relating what I was told at the time, and it has stuck in my mind.
I had to go on sick leave, and on my return I found out that the station cinema had been burnt to the ground.I am not sure whether it was an accident of arson.
We had to have passes if we wanted to go to the nearest town of Elgin or Forres and if we wanted to go to a dance we had to have a pass, woe betide you if you were not back on camp in time. The WAAF Sgt on duty waited for your return. It was jankers if you were late.
I had my first encounter with the prisoners of war. They were on duty in the kitchen of the sgts Mess where . I found out that they were SS German prisoners. To me they looked evil. I thought that the Germans had all blond hair. These men had dark hair and a sullen look about them. Compared to the ordinary German prisoners that were in the kitchen as well, the difference could not have been greater. They were happy doing their job, which was mostly peeling the potatoes. The SS prisoners were assigned to do all the greasy washing-up. I was really scared and usually scurried past them in case they turned on me. I know it sounds silly after all these years, but news about their exploits had filtered through to us.

Sometimes when off duty i used to play darts in the afternoon at the Red Lion in Forres. I think that it was the first time that I had an alcoholic drink. Where I came from women were looked down upon if they were seen going into a public house. It is just as well that I was away from home.
I had a friend who worked in COMCEN, she hinted to me that I should put in for leave on the eighth of May, she said it was hush hush. I took her at her word and on VE day I was travelling down to Glasgow. On the train down, I could see flags being raised on top of houses. Georges Cross in Glasgow is where all the WAAFS seemed to have congregated. It was a wonderful atmosphere; we danced and sang for hours. There were dances being held at Barrowland, renowned for the best dancers to be found and shows at Green's playhouse. I cannot recall the programme, everywhere seemed to be like a dream.
Back to camp and found that we were all being posted to different parts of the country. The Red Lion in Forres had free drinks all day for everyone to celebrate. Also to thank the people for their patronage.
My posting was RAF Gamston, near Retford Nottinghamshire. This is where the Australian service men were sent in preparation for their return to Australia. It was sad seeing them all going back home.
My next posting was to RAF Ringway, near Manchester. Here I was billeted in an old farmhouse at the side of the runway. The paratroopers were stationed here. It was interesting hearing all their tales of war. I was also invited to a dance at another camp at Weston where there were older paratroopers who had been in landings in Italy. I only wish that I had been older to have taken in all their tales of their exploits. Not long after I was sent to RAF Upper Heyford where I made a decision, which was to play a part in my later life. I decided then that I wanted to change trades and opted for cooking. I had in mind that when I left the service I would want to have some trade to take with me. From there I did my training at RAF Halton.
Next posting was RAF Wharton near Blackpool. This was an exciting time visiting Blackpool and the fairground, having my photograph taking in Goerings car. I have still got the photograph. Paying sixpence to see Alice the fat lady who along with her brother and mother, each weighed over fifty-six stones. Alice needed a huge armchair to sit in, her thighs were enormous, she would invite your to have a feel. Ugh. I declined. I had my photgraph taken in Goerings Car, it was one of the novelties of the showground, It felt peculiar sitting in it.
We had German prisoners at Wharton here as well but they were the ordinary troops, they were well looked after and did jobs around the camp. I was sent to the officer鈥檚 mess and got a good training in more upmarket cooking. There comes a time when I thought that it was time to move on. This time it was at RAF Leeming. Nearly all the billets were empty. I usually had to be in work around five-thirty in the morning. People told me that there were ghosts walking the camp. I must say it scared me.
My next and final posting was to RAF Duxford. It was here that my term of service in the WAAFS came to an end. I then joined the WRAF. I worked in the three messes to gain my Cpl stripes. It made all the difference having my own room, but I did find that I was alienated from the ranks. I think that they were suspicious of NCO's in general.
In the officers mess we had a civilian cook and I learnt a lot from him. Though not everything went well. I was told to cook game for the evening meal. I was not used to high living cookery and never in my life seen game except for rabbit, and these came in the dozens. I would find them waiting for me in the early morning when I arrived for work. They had been caught in headlights on the runway and here I was having to skin and cook then for certain members of the officer鈥檚 mess.
The game bird was just like cooking chicken; unfortunately I had left the gall bladder inside. After the meal, a senior officer came and informed me that he was game but not that game. I thought he was being very polite.
The winter of 1947 was a harsh winter for the German people. No fuel for heating and short of food. The RAF kept flying night and day with coal.
The first of the meteor aircraft came to Duxford and it was the beginning of a new life for me. I met my husband. Eddie Chapman He was an engineer in engines and airframes. He did his apprenticeship at Halton in 1938 (nicknamed the Halton Brats).He came top of his entry and was presented with a leather bound book by the Air Commodore. When war broke out he was sent to the Middle East where he spent the five years of the war. during that time he was with the Desert Rats for a period then Egypt, then Tripoli, Tobruk. He always said that his unit were in constant retreat from the Germans.When war finished he was stationed at ASDP in London, from there he came to Duxford with the first Meteor. He gave talks to the aircrew on the jet engines.During that period he had to take the Meteor to Cardington where the huge airships used to be housed.
He had to run the engine of the Meteor on to various different types of tar and concrete,while a workman kept laying different types of substances to see which could withstand the heat of the jets. this was to find the right substance that could be used on the runways. The poor man spent most of his day digging up the different materials that could not withstand the heat from the jet engines.
It was interesting to see the huge hanger that housed the large Airships. The hanger were so high that two double decker buses could have fitted one on top of the other.
During that period at Duxford I got engaged to be married to Eddie. The day
I was leaving the Airforce to go back to Scotland to arrange the wedding, I had a posting come through. It was to be trained in French Cooking. I had studied French at one stage of my life. Any other time I would have jumped at the chance. But it was too late.
I was a was to become a Servicema's wife.My life did begin then as my husband Eddie stayed in the services until he retired at 55years of age. . He was posted to Tobruk his third time there but no war. and then to Tripoli where I joined him. Then another overseas posting to Singapore where he worked on the Herky Birds as we called the Herculese.
His final days in the RAF were spent at Swanton Morley as a Technical Author and Editor on the the early versions of the Harrier and Jaguar.
We found it hard to settle down to civilian life, both of us having spent all our life in the service. I do not regret having that experience.
When my late husbad retired from the RAF I was able to study for a hons degree in Fine Art at the ripe old age of 65. My fours sons also got degrees in the sciences.
Unfortunately my husband came ill with an illness which only affects one in a hundred thousand. Life expectancy is five years.he died in 1996.
I felt that it was neccessary that I included his career in the service along with my story. From working with the early aircraft to the spitfires through to the Meteors, Lightnings. I am sure that he will be remembered also by old comrades not only for the RAF but for his hobby. He loved fishing and was in the RAF Angling Team.
Memories will linger especially when a Station closes down, RAF Colishall will close down this year. We had three happy years there.I made lots of friends while in the service and still keep in touch with many of them.

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