By the evening of 7 November 1942 the intense work and rush at Medmenham for Operation Torch was over and Sarah had 48 hours’ leave to visit her parents:
Chequers was near enough for me to go over on my leaves. Sometimes, I would go on a borrowed army motorcycle – so heavy that I had to have a hand to get me started. Luckily, there were regular van deliveries between the three RAF stations in the area and I could hitchhike most of the way to Chequers. On arrival, I would normally go straight up to see my father as, being in uniform, I did not have to dress for dinner. On one special occasion he was in his bath, floating full length with an enormous sponge strategically placed.
‘Come in, come in. What have you been up to?’
‘Just the usual routine.’
‘Ah.’
He yelled for Sawyers, his valet, who wrapped him in an enormous Turkish towel. I waited discreetly while drying and dressing occurred. Then came the final touch, combing his hair and then brushing it with two ivory hair brushes. He used to part the two or three remaining hairs across the dome of his head with meticulous care, splash on some cologne and then we would go down to dinner.
On this particular evening, while this elaborate hair-dressing procedure was taking place, he said, ‘At this very moment, sliding stealthily through the Straits of Gibraltar under cover of darkness, go 542 ships, for the landings in North Africa.’
I couldn’t resist it. I said, ‘543.’
‘How do you know?’
‘I’ve been working on it for three months.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I believe there is such a thing as security.’
He looked at me with what I feared would be a blaze of anger at my impudence. Instead, he chuckled, and we went down to dinner where he told the story delightedly. Later, when Mrs Roosevelt came over to England to see how women were faring in the services, my father proudly repeated the story to her. Mrs Roosevelt, a remarkable woman of whom I became very fond, returned to America to give her account of English women’s work in the war machine and she recounted this story to illustrate the importance of security, even between father and daughter. It went down very well, I am told, but not for me. I was summoned to the Air Ministry for a carpeting for breach of security!4
The landings on the North African beaches were successfully carried out, French resistance minimal, and after consolidating their forces the Allies moved into Tunisia. General Montgomery’s success at El Alamein forced the Afrika Korps to retreat westwards and, after fierce fighting, it was eventually trapped between the Eighth Army and the Allied troops in Tunisia. With the Afrika Korps’ surrender, a major step had been taken towards the Allies’ return to the European continent.
Mention has been made of terrain models being built as part of the preparations for Operation Torch. For centuries, detailed models, built to scale and showing fortifications and features of the landscape, had supported military operations. Early in 1940 a model-making workshop was formed at the Royal Aircraft Establishment in Farnborough after representatives of the army, navy and RAF met to discuss intelligence gathering for commando raids. The three-dimensional models, built to precise scale and detail, were invaluable when briefing troops prior to an operation; they could inspect the terrain, landmarks and obstacles they would encounter so they became familiar and ‘fixed’ in their mind’s eye.
The Model-Making Section, ‘V’, moved to Medmenham in 1941, setting up their workshops in the stables off one of the courtyards. A number of suitable recruits had to be quickly found as very few professional model makers, who were normally employed by architectural or legal firms, were available. Craftsmen recently called up for war service in the RAF suddenly found themselves transferred to model making, while more candidates were found among the staff and students in art schools. The result of this targeted recruitment drive was the creation of a unique collection of highly talented artists, sculptors, engravers, illustrators and others who formed the core of the model makers. As the value of the models was recognised, it was not long before more model makers were desperately needed. Earlier manpower sources had run dry so the suggestion was made: ‘Well then, what about woman-power?’ After the establishment shockwaves had receded, the recruiters set off to find suitable female model makers from other sections and in art schools; the first two to arrive at Medmenham were Thea Turner and Gilly Porter. Only WAAF personnel were recruited for this work and their numbers were never large, amounting to a total of two officers and twenty-one other ranks.
Doreen Davidson and two colleagues work on a terrain model.
The Air Ministry initially had difficulty in accepting that artists of all sorts could adapt to military discipline and, even more importantly, keep their work absolutely secret. They also pondered over which trade group to place them in, as they were dealing with a new ‘trade’. Eventually, despite their exceptional skills with their hands, the model makers were designated as Pattern Makers Architectural (PMA), which was a Grade V trade and paid 2s 6d per day with little expectation of promotion. This decision affected the WAAF personnel too and very few of them were promoted and even fewer were commissioned. It was not until September 1944 that the trade was upgraded and they became officially known as model makers. Some ‘top brass’ never got used to artists working in their individual creative way, paying scant attention to military duties and failing to behave ‘like real soldiers’. Prior to the North African landings, some officers had been dismissive of the use of models but their practical value proved decisive and General Eisenhower was quoted as saying: ‘Each of these model makers is worth a hundred men!’
In 1942, three officers and 150 enlisted men from the Engineer Model Making Detachment of the US Army Corps of Engineers joined the RAF model makers. They must have brought a whiff of glamour to Medmenham as a number of them had worked with movie companies in Hollywood. Joe Hurley was still a student at art school when he was launched into the film industry with Columbia Pictures as a sketch artist. Joe met Margaret Price from the Press Section at Medmenham and they married in America after the war. The American men who joined the Model Section (there were no US women model makers) had to adapt rapidly to new duties, strange surroundings, extra training and tight security. However, they got on well and worked side by side with their British counterparts; they liked the local people and countryside and their unit got the loudest cheer from the people of Henley in a ‘Wings for Victory’ parade in 1943. Getting accustomed to wartime British food may have been a problem, but as a US model maker wrote:
One compensating factor was the presence at Nuneham, Phyllis Court, and Medmenham of several hundred Waafs. They came in quite a variety of ranks, shapes, sizes, and dispositions. Friendly relations, friendlier relationships, and even some marriages flourished. But anyone foolish enough to presume that the women were primarily for decoration or dalliance was in for a rude shock. The hard realities of several years of war had made it abundantly clear that women could do a lot of jobs, including model making, and do them superbly well.5
Section Officer Helroise Hawkins works on a model in ‘V’ Section.
Mary Harrison had been a student at Nottingham Art College before joining the WAAF in 1940. She became a clerk (special duties) and worked as a plotter in the operations room at RAF Watnell, in Nottinghamshire, the HQ of 12 Group Fighter Command, and was about to be promoted to sergeant when she read a notice in Routine Orders about a model-making course. The specified entry requirements for applicants were for architectural artists, artists and sculptors, and all those who had completed at least two years at art college. Mary had not studied for two years, but said she had, and was accepted – but her sergeant’s stripes were forfeited. In the summer of 1943 Mary arrived at the model-making school at RAF Nuneham Park, by which time some of the first British model makers had been detached to set up similar units in Egypt, Italy and India. Seven other WAAFs, twelve RAF and five US army personnel joined Mary on the four-week course and on the first day we
re put to work learning practical carpentry, modelling with plaster of Paris and painting. Mary enjoyed all these subjects but struggled with the maths necessary for constructing to scale. In her diary she commented on how accurate she had to be and the fiddly nature of the small-scale jobs, but on 30 July she recorded:
Finished my model. Everyone worked terribly late and we were caught by the duty NCO and officer – expect there will be a lecture about it!
Sure enough there was: ‘Got a ticking off by the CO this morning about last night.’
Mary passed the course and was posted to RAF Medmenham where the WAAF modellers lived, being transported each day to work at Phyllis Court in Henley:
The whole gang went to the Dog and Badger to celebrate. We got a late pass and went to the village Hop – amusing time watching the Yanks teach the locals how to jitterbug.6
Mary found the work suited her and enjoyed the relaxed atmosphere of a shift when the very pleasant US and British sergeants were in charge. In her spare time she enjoyed swimming and boating on the river and discovered the Dutch Café and the cinema in Marlow. After two months she summed it up: ‘I do like it here!!’
Mary Harrison became a model maker in 1943.
Model making required long hours of detailed work and single-minded concentration. A model of a port, for instance, would include the individual dock layouts, road and rail links, buildings, cranes, ships and boats, all built to scale with added details of cargoes and crates. Distinctive features such as the shape of a roof were included, and the whole model was painted in the colours of the real structure. Everything exactly matched the scene the attacking force would see and encounter, whether by air, land or water. Ordering models was usually one of the first actions to be taken when planning an operation; consequently the model makers would know when and where it would take place months or even years before it did. Despite the relaxed working atmosphere prevailing in the Model-Making Section, security rules were strict and there was not one breach or inadvertent slip of the tongue.
At first glance this picture looks like a vertical photograph. It is, in fact, a photograph of a model of the St Nazaire naval base, built for briefing on the raid in March 1942 and demonstrates the detail provided by the model makers.
Obviously there could be no personal attribution or signature on any of the models sent out from the unit, but at least one small mark of individualism was made. Bill O’Neill, an American who later married Pat Peat, did manage to incorporate the initials ‘US’ into a tree pattern on one model of a Romanian target. Mary also remembered working on models for the Pacific invasions, which were planned to start once Europe was liberated. There was great concern about the landing craft to be used due to the strength of the waves breaking on Pacific shores, so a model of the beaches was constructed. When this was uncovered for a large number of admirals to inspect, sitting on a rock was a tiny mermaid, made by one of the model makers. No comment was made but at the end of their discussions the admirals thanked the Section and asked that the mermaid remain in place when the model was delivered to them.
One of Mary’s brothers was serving with the RNVR on Russian convoys and the other was in the Royal Armoured Corps. When their mother, who lived alone, had an operation, Mary was granted fourteen days’ compassionate leave to return home to nurse her. However, this was not long enough and Mary was asked if she wanted a temporary release from the WAAF until her mother regained her health. She accepted this and had to return to Medmenham to complete the process:
Kit inspection, a medical and bags of red tape before finishing. A soldier on the train from Grantham asked me to marry him!!
One month later she returned to Medmenham and got back to work. Having forfeited her sergeant’s stripes to become a model maker she started working for her trade tests to become an ACW1. On Christmas Day 1943:
Had a marvellous dinner – I went in fancy dress as a gypsy. Then we went to the Hare and Hounds and on to a dance.
Mary settled back into Medmenham, enjoying the work and finding her colleagues very congenial:
Nice sort of a day. I was working in the American room and with the wireless going and the sun streaming in, it was very pleasant.
When off-duty Mary enjoyed the occasional ENSA show, gramophone recitals in the YWCA and lectures on such diverse subjects as ‘The Temples of Ancient Egypt’ by an archaeologist PI and ‘How a Disney Film is Made’ by one of the Disney animators. Two of her fellow WAAF modellers, Mary Oliver and Joy Jarvis, kept their art studio in Marlow throughout the war and this was used by several fellow artists. Mary also remembers Chantry House in Henley where WAAFs could go to read and have a little peace and quiet. She was, however, not too keen on WAAF discipline and bureaucracy:
Ticked off today by a WAAF officer for collecting the form for new shoes on the wrong day. Only just missed a charge and have got to forfeit two late passes. Stupid, trivial business.
A few weeks later:
Got into a row for talking on Pay Parade and had my hand slapped by the Flight Sergeant. I had to laugh which didn’t improve matters.
Three days later:
Ticked off about putting my hat on in the Mess. The pettiness of those who have nothing else to do makes me sick.
Mary enjoyed working with the American model makers. Although they once went on strike over the unappetising food at Medmenham, they willingly shared their superior US rations and cigarettes with their British colleagues. On one occasion Mary offered one of her British wartime ‘Robin’ cigarettes to an American who was so appalled at the taste of it that he kept her supplied with US cigarettes for the rest of the war.
The section regularly made models of fjords for Norwegian forces flying in and out of their home country with agents, couriers and saboteurs – with the objective of disrupting and harrying the German occupying troops. Mary worked on one particular job where the pilots would be flying a few feet above the water in the confines of a narrow fjord with no room for altering course. The enemy guns were mounted on either side of the fjord to trap the aircraft between two walls of anti-aircraft fire. The PIs and modellers calculated the guns’ field of fire with the greatest precision in order to determine the exact bearings for the pilots to fly on without deviation and avoiding being hit:
After the raid the Norwegians came to thank us. The Section also received letters from bomber pilots saying how useful our models were.
Two WAAFs model a town area using plaster of Paris for the buildings.
In fact there were many messages of appreciation from troops of all three services who had benefited from having had a detailed preview of their target. Nothing else at that time could give troops and air crew such accurate visual information on the terrain of an area, or particular features they would encounter when attacking an enemy-held position.
Geoffrey Price in the Naval Section wrote:
The use of scale models enabled us to plot raids by my section on cargo vessels in the Norwegian fjords. These ships made their runs only by night and during daylight hours anchored up under the cliffs in the fjords where the water is deep. This made it difficult for the rocket firing Beaufighters and Mosquitoes to attack at low level and pull away due to the steep mountains. Models were therefore made of these anchorages so that the pilots could have a good view of the position of the valleys in the hills and plan their approaches and escape routes.7
Mary’s brushes with authority continued:
A party of us went to the Hare and Hounds to celebrate Bessie’s birthday. Coming back we were caught cycling more than two abreast by Flight Lieutenant Deeley and the five of us have got to report to his office tomorrow.8
The next day: ‘Deeley was a pig and put the five of us on three hours gardening.’
The gardening turned out to be digging an uncultivated plot of garden. Mary shared a hut with eight other modellers and a few photographers; Nancy Hayes was their WAAF corporal. A few months later, for a crime unspecified, Mary was put on a week’s fatigues, whic
h entailed her getting up at 6.30 a.m. to sweep the hut, scrub the lavatories and swill the floor before going on duty. Although a modeller friend helped out, by the middle of the week Mary was certain she was getting housemaid’s knee and resorted to locking herself in the lavatories to get a smoke in peace: ‘More ruddy fatigues. How I hate it. A wretched officer gave me some advice today – I suppose the old fool thought I was a regular ACW.’ The last day of fatigues arrived: ‘Celebrated by cycling into Marlow and saw “Spider Woman”.’
Women of Intelligence: Winning the Second World War with Air Photos Page 20