A Flight of Golden Wings

by Beryl Matthews

  ‘The idea is to utilise pilots with private licences, and that includes some airline pilots, I believe. They are to be used in case of emergency for communication, delivering medical supplies or patients to hospitals, and generally being useful in any kind of an emergency. Planes also need to be ferried from manufacturers to airfields all over the country.’ Ruth shrugged. ‘There are plenty of women who could do that, as well.’

  ‘Is it a part of the military?’

  ‘No, they are all civilians who have signed a contract to do this work.’ Ruth looked at her mother and smiled. ‘So what do you really think about me joining the WAAF?’

  ‘That’s up to you, darling. You must do what you feel is right for you, but I would urge you not to make a hasty decision.’

  At that moment they heard the sound of footsteps on the gravel path and saw Simon walking towards them, looking very smart in his dark blue uniform with gold wings embroidered on the jacket. He also had dark circles of exhaustion around his eyes.

  ‘Simon!’ Alice smiled. ‘We were just talking about you. Were your ears burning?’

  He grinned and held out an envelope to Ruth. ‘I’ve been asked to deliver this to you in person.’ She frowned. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Open it and see.’

  ‘I’ll go and make some tea. Come inside and sit down.’ Alice patted Ruth’s arm and then walked back in to the house.

  ‘Well, don’t you want to know what’s in the letter?’ Simon asked when they were settled in the living room.

  The envelope was neatly typed and rather official looking, but there was nothing on it to indicate who it was from. Puzzled, Ruth glanced at Simon. ‘What is this, and why have you delivered it by hand?’

  Simon sat back, his eyes gleaming in amusement at her hesitation. ‘Stop fussing, Ruth. Read it and then all your questions will be answered.’

  Without further delay, she slit open the envelope and removed a single sheet of paper. She had to read it twice before she could actually believe what she was seeing. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

  Alice returned with the tea, and when she noticed her daughter’s stunned expression, asked, ‘What is it, darling? I hope it isn’t bad news.’

  It took a while for Ruth to find her voice, so great was her excitement. She spoke in a breathless rush. ‘It’s the ATA! They’ve asked to see me. They’re going to take on more women pilots!’

  This astounding news was too much for Ruth and she was on her feet, reading the letter again – just to make sure. ‘Oh, Simon, tell me this is true. Tell me I’m not dreaming!’

  ‘It’s true.’ Simon leant forward. ‘They’ve decided that women pilots can ferry the trainers and release the men for other types of aircraft.’

  ‘We could fly anything,’ Ruth declared with confidence.

  ‘I know that, but don’t rush things. Get in first and see how things develop after that.’

  She nodded. Simon was sensible, as always. She waved the letter. ‘They’re asking me to go for an interview next week at Hatfield. Do you know how many more they are taking, Simon?’

  ‘I’m not sure, but I think it’s only five or six at the moment.’

  Ruth grimaced. ‘What do you think my chances are?’

  ‘I can’t answer that,’ he told her. ‘But you have a number of things in your favour. You have a ‘B’ licence and have taken a navigation course. You’ve also done quite a bit of cross-country flying, so that will help. Don’t forget to take your log books.’

  ‘I won’t.’

  ‘Don’t look so worried. I believe you’re just the kind of pilot they’re looking for, and I’ve told them so.’

  ‘Oh, thank you!’ Ruth’s doubt faded as excitement took over. ‘I’m sure your recommendation will help enormously.’

  ‘You’d have got in eventually.’ Simon rubbed a hand over his eyes. ‘Things are not going well in France, as you know, Ruth. A lot of RAF boys have been doing ferry work, but they are now needed as operational pilots. If the signs are correct, then the ATA are going to need all the pilots they can find, male and female.’

  ‘That is good news.’ Alice smiled at her daughter. ‘I told you to wait before joining the WAAF. You’ll be much happier if you’re flying, won’t she, Simon?’

  ‘Absolutely. You’d have found the WAAF very frustrating, Ruth.’

  ‘How are your parents, Simon?’ Alice handed him a cup of tea. ‘I haven’t seen them for a while.’

  ‘They’re fine. Dad’s rushed off his feet with the practice. He’s just lost his junior doctor to the army.’

  ‘Oh dear. Is he still cross with you for not going to medical school?’

  ‘No, I think he’s come to terms with the disappointment, and is even showing some interest in my flying now.’ He stood up. ‘I must get back. Don’t worry, Ruth. Fly in your usual calm and efficient way and you’ll sail through the tests.’

  With Simon’s advice fixed in her mind, Ruth made her way to Hatfield on the appointed day, determined to become a member of the ATA.

  She was early and stood by a window watching the planes landing and taking off. It was very busy and there was an air of urgency about the place. No one believed they were being told the whole truth about the situation in France, but it was clear that the Germans were advancing. Ten days earlier on 10th May Winston Churchill had become prime minister and the Germans had invaded Holland, Belgium and Luxembourg.

  Ruth’s mouth firmed. She had skill as a pilot and was going to damned well use it, she thought. A Magister landed and the pilot stepped out carrying a parachute and headed for the building. The door swung open and a diminutive girl walked in, tossed her parachute on a chair, and then grinned at Ruth.

  ‘Hello, my name’s Tricia.’ They shook hands. ‘God, I’m gasping for a cup of tea.’

  ‘I’m not sure if there’s any around. I’m waiting to be interviewed for the ATA.’

  ‘Ah, good, we need more women pilots.’

  The door opened again and another woman looked in. ‘Tricia, can you take that Magister you’ve just brought in up to Lee-on-Solent? It’s urgent and you’re the only one back so far. There’s a Tiger Moth waiting there for you to bring back.’

  ‘Oh, and there I thought you were going to ask me to collect a Spitfire!’ Both women laughed at the joke. ‘I’ll just go and check with the Met to see what the weather’s doing, then I’ll be on my way.’ Tricia was already grabbing her parachute and taking some papers from the other woman.

  ‘Don’t take any chances with the weather, Tricia. Keep below the clouds.’

  The girl nodded in agreement and headed for the door, where she paused and looked at Ruth. ‘Good luck. I’ll see you around soon, I expect.’

  ‘I really hope so.’

  Then she was gone and Ruth was alone again. As the Magister took off and disappeared from sight, she shook her head. Tricia hadn’t managed to grab a cup of tea before she’d left. Ruth fidgeted. She wanted to be a part of this so much it hurt.

  There was no more time for thought as Ruth was called in for the interview and then taken on a short flight to assess her handling of a plane. She felt she had acquitted herself well, but couldn’t help feeling a pang of disappointment when told that she must go to White Waltham for a final test in a few days’ time. She had been hoping to get everything settled today, but she was well aware they had to be sure they were going to get a competent and reliable pilot. The women especially were under scrutiny, because some people still believed that women shouldn’t be doing such work. Ruth didn’t know how many women they had asked to see, but it was certain that she wasn’t the only one.

  On her way home, Ruth mulled over Tricia’s joke about delivering a fighter plane when they were only allowed to fly the trainers. The women must be finding that frustrating, knowing that many of them were more experienced pilots than a lot of the young men now taking to the air …

  Before Ruth’s test at White Waltham, Calais had fallen and the evacuation o
f Dunkirk was under way. Britain was now in a desperate situation as they tried to rescue the army from the beaches. She hadn’t seen or heard from Simon and guessed that he was busy trying to keep the RAF supplied with planes. Her desire to do something to help was increasing with every piece of news she received.

  ‘Do stop pacing, darling,’ Ruth’s mother urged. ‘Your test is tomorrow, then you’ll soon be flying again.’

  ‘Sorry I’m so restless, Mother.’ Ruth grimaced. ‘I hate standing around doing nothing.’

  ‘I know you do, and you’ve always been the same. Even as a little girl we could never keep you still, but I think we’ll all have plenty to do soon.’

  Ruth sat down, frowning fiercely. ‘What’s going to happen to us now? Will Hitler just continue his advance and come straight across the Channel?’

  ‘He’d be a fool not to.’ George Aspinall entered. ‘But we all know he’s unpredictable, and the Channel won’t be that easy to cross. My guess is he’ll attack by air first.’

  For the rest of the day Ruth helped her mother in the garden. This wasn’t her favourite activity, but she would do anything to pass the time before her test. And the beauty of the garden helped to ease the worry about the future.

  She spent a restless night praying that the weather would be good enough to take the test, and was relieved when morning dawned clear and bright. She was keyed up and had no intention of failing.

  When she arrived at the airfield, the examiner wasted no time in taking her up. He said very little except to give her instructions to carry out certain manoeuvres. The only indication he gave after she’d landed was a brief smile and to tell her that she handled a plane well.

  Then it was back home to wait again.

  The evacuation of Dunkirk ended on the 4th of June, and by some miracle hundreds of thousands of British, Commonwealth, French and Belgian troops had been rescued. To snatch so many from the beaches was an astonishing achievement, but everyone was conscious that the Germans were on the other side of a narrow strip of water.

  During the next two weeks, Ruth waited impatiently for the post to arrive. She was sure she had done well in the tests, but didn’t dare hope too much, for she knew that if she received a rejection the disappointment would be crushing. She had also been told that the ATA were expanding the women’s section and were examining quite a few applicants. She was up against quite a lot of competition and they would be careful about making the right selection.

  At last the letter arrived and she couldn’t help giving a little jig of delight. She had been accepted and had to report to Hatfield in three days’ time.

  After telling her parents the good news, Ruth began to pack a small bag, taking only the essentials and two decent dresses, just in case they had time for a social life.

  ‘Didn’t you say you had three days before you needed to report?’ Ruth’s mother came in and frowned at the case on the bed.

  ‘I’m going straight away to see if I can get digs near the airfield.’ Ruth smiled to soften the news. Her parents were going to miss having her around, but so many families were facing the same situation. ‘I want to get settled first.’

  ‘Of course you do, and that’s very sensible,’ Alice agreed. ‘I’m sure if Robert were still alive he would already be in the RAF.’

  Ruth gave an affectionate laugh as she remembered her brother. ‘And he’d be right in the thick of things as a fighter pilot.’

  ‘Be careful, darling.’ Alice couldn’t hide her worry.

  ‘I will, and please try not to worry too much.’

  ‘You know you’re asking the impossible of your mother.’ Her father joined them. ‘Are you taking your car?’

  ‘No, I haven’t got enough petrol so I’ll leave it here. I’ll go by train.’

  ‘Stay and have lunch with us and I’ll take you to the station.’ George picked up her case. ‘I’ll put this in my car.’

  Ruth agreed to stay for lunch, although she was eager to be on her way – eager to become a part of the war effort and get back in the air again.

  Chapter Four

  After a rather lengthy lunch, Ruth arrived at her destination later than expected, so she booked a room for the night in the local pub. She dumped her case and went straight downstairs to see if she could get a meal, and while she was enquiring, Tricia came into the bar with another girl.

  ‘Ruth, isn’t it?’ Tricia smiled broadly when Ruth nodded. ‘Nice to see you again. This is Ellen.’ Tricia introduced her friend, then said, ‘I’m guessing that you’ve been accepted for the ATA?’

  ‘Yes, I start in three days’ time, but thought I’d come early and find somewhere to stay near the airfield.’

  ‘You can share with us, if you like,’ Ellen offered without hesitation. ‘We rent a cottage just down the road.’

  ‘Oh, thank you!’ Ruth was delighted, called the landlord over and cancelled her room right away. He then rustled them up a meal of homemade vegetable soup with hunks of bread.

  All conversation stopped while they enjoyed the meal.

  ‘Oh, that’s better,’ Ellen moaned as she mopped up the last of her soup. ‘I haven’t had anything but a quick sandwich since breakfast. I’ve done three deliveries today and a lot of hanging around.’

  Tricia laughed. ‘The longer the daylight hours the more we can fly, and the way things are going we’ll get even busier.’

  Ellen nodded, then turned to Ruth. ‘We need more pilots, so you are very welcome, but you don’t know what you’re letting yourself in for.’

  ‘I don’t care. I just want to fly.’

  ‘Same as all of us, and we love every minute of it. We are now going to be allowed to ferry all types of non-operational aircraft, like Tigers, Oxfords and Masters.’ Tricia gave a satisfied nod at Ruth. ‘You’ve come in at the right time because we can now go to the RAF Central Flying School at Upavon for conversion courses.’

  Ruth’s eyes opened wide at this news. ‘I didn’t know that. What are the chances of getting on the course?’

  ‘Ah, another eager one. Just what we want,’ Ellen said. ‘I expect most of us will eventually do the course because they want to take the men off the trainers so there will be more of them to ferry the operational planes.’

  ‘It’s a step in the right direction.’ Tricia stood up. ‘Come on, Ruth, collect your bag and we’ll get you settled in.’

  The cottage was small, with two bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs, a tiny kitchen and lounge downstairs. There were two single beds crammed in each upstairs room, and a put-you-up in the lounge. Just outside the back door were four bicycles – for anyone’s use, she was told. The whole place had a disorganised but homely feel about it, but the garden was another matter. It was a riot of beautiful flower beds and a lawn her mother would have been proud of.

  ‘My goodness!’ Ruth gasped. ‘Who’s the gardener?’

  ‘Not us.’ Tricia held up her hands in horror. ‘If I dare touch a plant it withers and dies. Our next-door neighbour, Jim, looks after it for us between his Home Guard duties. He takes a fatherly interest in his flying girls.’

  They went back to the kitchen and Tricia put the kettle on to make a pot of tea. ‘Take any bed you like, Ruth, while I make some tea.’

  The front door slammed and a girl walked in. After tossing her bag on to a chair, she said, ‘Oh, good, you’re making tea – I’m gasping. Can I bunk here tonight?’

  ‘Of course you can.’ Ellen found enough cups and put them on the table. ‘Gussie, this is Ruth. She’ll be joining us soon.’

  ‘Great to meet you.’

  Ruth tried hard not to wince as they shook hands. Tricia and Ellen were not quite as tall as her five feet six, but Gussie was a tall, strong girl with pale blonde hair, and blue eyes that gleamed as if everything was a big joke.

  With cups of tea in their hands they trailed into the lounge and settled down. The rest of the evening was hilarious and Ruth couldn’t remember when she had laughed so much. She heard tales of g
etting lost in bad weather, dodging barrage balloons – the pilots weren’t allowed to mark such defensive positions on their maps for fear they’d fall into enemy hands – not being allowed to stay at operational airfields because there weren’t any facilities for women, and the astonishment of the ground crew when they saw a woman climbing out of a plane that had just landed. But underneath the laughter, Ruth could detect the determination of the women to prove they were capable of the job – and more, if they were allowed the chance. They flew with care to get the planes to their destinations without damage. They had to prove they were as good as the men, if not better. As she listened, Ruth was proud she was about to become a member of this extraordinary group of women.

  The next two days were an education for Ruth. Tricia and Ellen disappeared, but there was a steady trickle of women coming and going. It seemed that this was an open house for any female pilot stranded for the night.

  On her first day, Ruth reported early and after having assured those in charge that she had digested the standing orders – she would stay within sight of the ground at all times and not fly when the weather was bad or go above the clouds – she joined the rest of the girls to await instructions for the day’s work. She didn’t have a uniform yet, but she was wearing a pair of navy blue slacks and a light blue blouse.

  Everyone was just hanging around, talking, reading, and a couple were even knitting away as fast as they could. After staying at the house, Ruth now knew a few of the women. There was a tall, red-haired woman standing on her own with her hands in her pockets and gazing up at the sky. Ruth walked over to her and smiled. ‘Looks like good flying weather today.’

  ‘Yes, it does.’ The girl tore her gaze away from the sky and turned to face Ruth. ‘I’m Harriet. Have you been with the ATA for long?’

  ‘My name’s Ruth and this is my first day. How about you?’

  Harriet rubbed her hands together in anticipation. ‘Mine as well, and I can’t wait to get going.’