大象传媒

I left school in 1941 and worked in an office near Hyde Park. One lunchtime during the week of my eighteenth birthday, in 1942, I passed a recruitment office poster encouraging women to join the Army, and a week later I enlisted with a school friend. We were offered various choices of career training, such as gunner, cook, driver, medical orderly, clerk or radar operator 鈥� we chose the latter and were issued with a rail pass and instructions to join a training unit in March of that year.

Unfortunately by then I was ill with tonsillitis. Antibiotics were not around at the time so my recovery involved constant aspirin and gargles, which took about three weeks. And so my new date to join my training unit in Northampton was 6th May 1942. (My friend Rita and I never did catch up with each other 鈥� she was posted to Yorkshire in April.)

On May 6th my parents saw me off on the train from Euston Station 鈥� it was so full of passengers that many were standing in the corridors. It was there that I met some of the girls with whom I would share the next few years, and keep in contact during the rest of our lives. Unfortunately most have predeceased me, since I was 18 and they were all in their mid twenties 鈥� Sue, Georgie, Bunny and Doris, and later Kay, Joan and Ray. I remember them all with great affection, for we shared so many experiences and memories.

On arrival in Northampton we were met by Army personnel and transported by lorry to our accommodation. We were to live in wooden Nissen huts; about twelve to a hut. Each of us had a small iron sprung bed with sheets, one pillow, three grey blankets and a 鈥渕attress鈥�, which consisted of three pieces of straw stuffed bedding called 鈥渂iscuits.鈥�

Every morning the Nissen huts, barrack rooms and cook houses were greeted by radio music from Billy Cotton and his band playing 鈥淲akey! Wakey!鈥� (da-da-da-da-da-da) when we had to rush to the adjacent cold washrooms, wash, dress and be ready for breakfast parade at 7:30am, where we marched to the cook houses and sat, usually six to a table, on wooden benches.

On my first morning I sat on the end of the bench to eat my porridge 鈥� (I was a slow eater) and when the call for parade was shouted everyone jumped up, the end of the bench slammed down and I landed on the stone floor with my food in my lap! Needless to say I never sat on the end again鈥�

Our month of training at Northampton consisted of daily learning to march in formation on the barrack square, under the fierce command of a stentorian voiced, male sergeant major who was obviously a misogynist, and who enjoyed criticising our mistakes in no uncertain terms. He barked all his orders from the far end of the parade ground, and it was difficult to understand them 鈥� very often some of us would misinterpret 鈥渓eft turn鈥� for 鈥渞ight turn,鈥� march in the wrong direction and have to suffer his wrath.

We learnt to salute officers, and undertake all the menial tasks such as scrubbing the cook house floors, in teams of four, and similarly prepare the vegetables each day. Peeling potatoes for 200 people does not encourage delicacy of effort 鈥� more than once an inspection by the day duty officer of our wasteful work would result in the instruction to 鈥減eel the peelings!鈥� We were so keen to get the spuds finished and out of the way that our outraged comments were lurid and vulgar!

Eventually we passed the selection interviews for our chosen jobs to man the teams of this Anti Aircraft Unit (henceforth abbreviated by us to Ack Ack). Radar operators would be trained in small teams 鈥� each girl would specialise in her given task 鈥� mine was to be the Bearing Operator, which involved sitting in front of a radar screen and turning a handle, which controlled a revolving plinth and manoeuvred the entire cabin from inside. Within the cabin was the Bearing Operator, two seated operators on Height and Distance and an N.C.O (Non Commissioned Officer) who was in direct communication with the command post below ground, beneath the guns. Based on the radar information the Command Post would order the gunners to fire at the enemy planes. The battles could last several hours, mostly at night, and we all had to move around outside in the dark and show no lights.

Our radar cabin was the size of a small shed and contained the radar computer machine which was known as 鈥淢ark I鈥�. It was about six feet high, five feet wide and four feet deep with a large TV type screen. High frequency electro magnetic waves searched for the target and recorded it as a bright blip on the screen when it was contacted.

A few months later the Mark 2 machine replaced the Mark I in the cabin. One of our daytime tasks was to clean the ariels on the top of the cabin; in cold weather we used to have very frozen fingers and noses and sore red faces, not to mention the icy ladder negotiations which required careful balance and determination.

The cabins were about 100 yards away from the guns, usually in a small field, and reached by a run of duck boards that were built about a foot from the ground, with a rope rail for guidance in the dark.

After receiving basic anti aircraft training in Oswestry, Shropshire, the battery was entrained to Ty Croes Firing range in Anglesey, Wales to practice shooting with the A.A. guns at target sleeves towed by planes flying from the nearby RAF aerodrome. On leaving the train we marched about two miles down a rough track across fields 鈥� the day was hot and we carried our kit on our backs in napsacks 鈥� the heavier kit bags were transported by trucks. We enjoyed our target practice month mainly because it was summer and our Nissen huts were in fields by the sea. In our spare time we would go over the dunes to the beaches to relax in the sun and smoke cigarettes. Cigarettes were very cheap, about ten for a shilling in the Naafi, and nearly everyone smoked. The cheaper fags were known as 鈥渃offin nails鈥� and were later responsible for bad health, but at the time we didn鈥檛 pay much attention to our future health and cigarettes were regarded as a 鈥減erk鈥� that was not readily available to civilians.

One night we were practising night target practice in the cabin in the field but I found that I could not move the bearing wheel and the cabin wouldn鈥檛 revolve. Eventually I carefully stepped outside to search for the reason 鈥� a large body was leaning against the cabin and a deep voice intoned 鈥渕oo!鈥� The cow was reluctant to move and I had to call the rest of the team out to shoo her away!

Some weeks later the battery was moved to Wolverhampton. Birmingham and Coventry were still the main targets in the Midlands for the German bombers 鈥� in Wolverhampton we mainly fired at occasional enemy planes making a run for their return to Germany after their attacks.

Our camp was outside Wolverhampton in the countryside 鈥� that winter a contingent of Dutch military, known to us as the Princess Irene Unit were stationed nearby. Gradually we got to meet them at the local pubs and cafes when we had a few hours leave. In the new year of 1944 they were suddenly moved away. Security was stringent so we did not know whereto, but it became apparent when our Battery was moved to Dovercourt in Essex in the spring of 1944, because we found that they were already in the nearby port of Harwich. Our battery was in two sections by then 鈥� one half guarding the port and one half in nearby Dovercourt. Some of the girls made dates with the Dutch soldiers in the first few weeks, then suddenly the men were not around, all our leave was cancelled and strict censorship was imposed. Several weeks later we heard the news of the 2nd Front on the 6th June, when Britain invaded German occupied France and lost hundreds of troops, including many of the Dutch soldiers whom we had known 鈥� we were very saddened by it.

The south of England was now being targeted by the V1 Rocket 鈥� Hitler鈥檚 secret weapon. It was a pilotless aircraft launched across the channel 鈥� it was catapulted from a ramp in Europe at great speed, travelling with flames from the tail and crashing to earth, bringing death and destruction with horrifying results 鈥� the attacks lasted for nine months.

Our own Battery in both Harwich and Dovercourt had to contend with the stealthy unmanned V2s, launched from occupied Holland in October 1944. They were a flying bomb, usually launched to arrive across the sea at about 100 feet high 鈥� when the engine cut out there was short silence, then they fell and exploded on impact. Our own guns could not shoot them down because the trajectory was too low, so we were powerless to intercept them. London was the target 鈥� I remember getting a lift to the city from Dovercourt 鈥� I sat in the cabin of a Bofors guncarrier with the driver 鈥� he dropped me at an outlying bus route, where I was able to catch a bus to central London. The bus had to stop at a set of traffic lights 鈥� suddenly the bus conductor shouted to everyone to get on the floor 鈥� a V2 had cut out overhead. Seconds later we heard a huge explosion; it had dropped upon houses nearby. The bus continued its route and I caught a tube train home, feeling fortunate, but saddened at the thought of the victims of the V2.

During the time when we were in Dovercourt we had moments of relaxation and humour. I remember playing in a mixed hockey match against the men of the REME (who maintained all the equipment). It was a fierce and muddy match; suddenly I was hit in the eye by the hockey ball, and sustained a beautiful black eye that swelled up in no time. I had been looking forward to the dance in the camp that evening so I made up my face and covered the black eye in calamine lotion, fully expecting to be a dancehall wallflower. To my happy surprise I danced every dance, because each partner wanted to know how I got the black eye!

One day our unit had to prepare for an impending inspection from a high ranking officer. There had been a much needed delivery of coke that day, near the camp entrance that had spilled over the road. Half a dozen gunners were called on parade, given white paint and brushes and told to paint the offending overflow to match the guardroom doors and windows!

Eventually the autumn, and bitter winter of 1944 came, and our unit was moved again 鈥� air raids on the UK had ceased and the battles were now entirely in Europe and beyond. First of all we arrived at a disused anti aircraft site near Castle Bromwich, Birmingham. Whilst we were there we had nothing to do 鈥� all Ack Ack units were to be disbanded and relocated elsewhere eventually. We were told we could attend lectures in the city in various subjects of our choice, so I chose to attend life drawing classes in the art gallery. I thoroughly enjoyed them, especially since the teacher was a Royal Academician. One of the models was an old blind beggar with a beard who our teacher had brought in from the streets 鈥� the old fellow appreciated the warmth and rest of just sitting in a chair for us to draw. Occasionally he鈥檇 produce a small bottle of beer from his grubby pocket, and two spoons; after a swig of beer he would play the spoons on his forearm and sing in a cracked voice, then slowly drift off to sleep. He was known as 鈥渙ld Ben鈥�, and I still have the sketch I drew of him.

After a few weeks we were all assigned to our new units. On the last night in the Castle Bromwich camp we descended on the local pub enmasse and enjoyed a noisy farewell evening, then we all linked arms, singing as we marched in inebriated lines back to camp.

My radar team mates and I were sent to billets in Leeds, to be clerks in the Army Pay Corps, which we felt was a terrible 鈥渃ome down鈥� after manning a fighting unit.

The offices were in a disused woollen factory, with rickety stairs and floors. We were on the first floor, and our task was to write in ledgers containing the individual pay due to various army units 鈥� rather boring, but regarded as a 鈥渃ushy option鈥�.

My landlady, her husband and daughter lived in Armley, a suburb of Leeds 鈥� they were welcoming and kind and I spent my 21st Birthday with them in February 1945 鈥� no party of course, due to rationing, but two of my friends and I bought fish and chips and shared them with the family, with a bottle of beer a piece.

In May 1946 we were given our discharge papers and rail passes home. Most of our uniforms had to be handed into stores, so we travelled in one set of uniform, but the issue of 拢70 and some clothing coupons helped us to adjust to 鈥渃ivvy street鈥�. However, the return to full employment was the most important aspect. I was able to return to work in the civil service office but until factories and small business were able to start up again many combatants were obliged to look for new jobs. The post war years were difficult for many people, but women were gaining a new independence and respect for their varied and responsible efforts in the war.

Many men returned from places such as Burma and Malaya in poor health and spirits 鈥� many had died when building the Burma Railway 鈥� others had been killed or become prisoners of war throughout Europe. Everyone hoped it would never happen again, and that families would never be split apart again 鈥� but has mankind learnt the awful lesson yet?

漏 Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.