Love and War in the WRNS

by Vicky Unwin

  This is the article to which I think she was referring; it was stuck in her scrapbook and is of an English newsprint quality.

  C in C Levant

  16/12/43

  No. 86

  My dear Ma – Thank you very much indeed for your Xmas present to me – I always feel rather awful when you send me things as I am so well off – I now make £19 – and all found – so do please think twice before sending me things. You will make me very self indulgent if you keep telling me not to send you things … John is up in Palestine instructing at the M.E. OCTU – he likes it rather – for which I am glad, as he hates a staff job. Bruce wrote to me yesterday (or at least I got the letter yesterday) and says he is sending me a tin of chestnuts. I am very thrilled at the idea of this, as we don’t get them here. I have sent both him and Robin Chater a parcel of Turkish Delight and crystallised fruit, but don’t know what to send John as he is able to get these things …

  Last night I went to a dance given by the Australian forces for the Greek Red Cross – who were very good to them whilst in Greece. Prince Paul of Greece was there, tall and very distinguished, with a monocle, in Naval uniform. I’m afraid when I got there I wished I hadn’t gone, as I was the only Wren officer there, with quite a lot of ratings and there was a frightful crowd of people there. Luckily I wasn’t in uniform. However, one mustn’t be snobbish. Today is the first day of Winter – terrific winds, huge seas. I nearly lost my hat when I was in town this morning and it has been pouring with rain – oh thank you for your letter enclosing granddad’s Xmas present, it was very sweet of him – and I must write to him. With all good wishes, and lots of love to you all. Sheila.

  Have you had any of my parcels?

  C in C Levant

  25/12/43

  Dear all of you – It’s Christmas Day, so I must just stop a minute and wish you all a happy one! It’s just 1105 and I expect you are all in church singing the first carol – as for myself, I have been unromantic enough to have to pay a visit to the laundry and have just returned laden with shirts and collars. I went to church at 0800 and as we go on watch at 1300 and have to have an enormous dinner before we go, haven’t been able to go to Matins. The weather is just perfect and I am sitting on the balcony with the dark blue sea all round, bright blue sky and clumps of heavy white clouds making deeper blue patches on the sea. It’s breezy and sunny, but warm. It seems very funny to think that you probably have snow at home – when we went on watch last evening our driver told me he had spoken to someone who was in England 5 days ago, when everything was white. We’ve all been hopefully singing and wishing for a white Christmas, but nothing’s happened so far. It’s hard to work up a Christmas spirit out here – but we decorated the house with red pepper branches, beautiful roses and chrysanthemums, and we even have a Christmas tree all lit up in the little niche in the front hall – and of course we are having a huge Xmas dinner at 12 before we go on watch. I started my Christmas on Thursday when I went to a party at Eve’s. She had a Russian tenor there who was one of the ‘Chauve Souris’ people – and he nearly sang the roof off. I really do think that if he hadn’t have had laryngitis, the ceiling would have cracked. There was much drinking and merriment, and at 1030 we proceeded to Pastrondis, a nearby restaurant, for dinner, sherry, wine, whisky, it all flowed like water – and so did our conversation, as you can guess!

  … Next day I was up at the crack of dawn and into town for I wanted to buy flowers for several people, we went to the shop where I had ordered them, and were told that they were 5/- a dozen when I had been told 3/-. This amazed me considerably and I was arguing strongly when in came 2 American Sergeants who at once said we must buy the girls some roses and immediately clapped down 15/- and 3 dozen roses were mine. Great remonstrations from me as I wanted to give them to Elizabeth and naturally intended to buy them myself. However, they would hear nothing of it, they were pickled as coots, a bottle in each hand, and a beautiful blue and white pre-frill round each of their necks. How we laughed! Eventually we went to the Vedgis for lunch, and then they drove me back here. I washed and dyed my hair in 1 1/2 hours and then we went on watch. Well! If we hadn’t got the Christmas spirit, others certainly had! Even at 1830 the S.D.O. [Sub Duty Officer] and marine messengers were well away – in fact one of them had to be sent home early as he was rather incapable! They were so funny – coming into ask questions and not able to talk properly, and then, having got what they wanted, weaving a tortuous path out of the office, missing the door by inches! Work came in, and we worked steadily. I drew a Christmas card for Alex, Cypher office, and sent it down to them with the rest of the signals – and midnight came – suddenly we heard strains of Good King Wenceslas – Hooray we cried – carol singers at last! However, as the sounds came nearer, we realised it was tinged with gin and whisky – and the complete W/T [wireless/telegraphy] watch arrived to take over – merry as kings. Then before you could say knife, a long straggling line of sailors appeared all wearing paper hats, singing happy Xmas to you, and brandishing bottles of brandy. The first one rushed up to me with a tin mug and open bottle and insisted I drank some – and then we all shook hands in turn. They completely settled themselves down staggering all round the office – drinking, laughing, and smoking enormous cigars. To crown it all, the little marine messenger who was so pickled stuck his head through a window connecting his office and ours, and started lassoing his pals with a long rope – laugh – I nearly collapsed! All this time one of my watch was being rung up by her boyfriend from Mursa Matrouh and she couldn’t hear a word – in the end she had to give it up as a bad job. Then to wind it all up, the youngest of all the W/T crowd rushed up to me and said ‘Merry Christmas old bean – I’ll say it now because I daren’t say it in the morning!’ and shook me wildly by the hand. This was the end! I was nearly speechless with laughter by that time. Then of course, I didn’t know how to get rid of them, there they were, packed all over my office, and nothing would budge them, and of course I didn’t want to tell them to go. However, their leading hand, who is a good sort, came in and shepherded them out, and the last I saw of him was with his arm entwined round a very drunk sparker’s waist, staggering on uncertain course into his office! After that you can be sure we had the right spirit too – I just dread to think what might happen if anything emergency had cropped up – I shouldn’t think there was more than one sparker capable of taking down a message correctly – but I must say their P.O. [Petty Officer] seemed O.K. The whole affair was priceless and I wouldn’t mind betting that in every part and establishment in the British Fleet – exactly the same thing was going on!

  Bruce’s Christmas card from Italy .

  We are going on watch this afternoon armed with Christmas cake. I rather dread to think what the W/T will be like – there will be some very sore heads, I know! …

  So now it’s 1145 and I must rush down for a drink before lunch. I can’t tell you what a lovely smell I can smell – this balcony is over the galley!

  With tons of love to you all

  Sheila,

  P.S. Am now on watch after an enormous dinner – the pudding came in aflame! It’s now 1320 and we are listening to carols. The poor W/T people look the worst for wear, but are bearing up! S.

  ‘Christmas 1943 – we had the “Afternoon” – but after a huge Christmas dinner – who cares?’ Sheila top of steps, left.

  1944

  ‘How are the mighty fallen’

  Between 1942 and 1944 there were no land battles on the Western Front, and the threat of invasion by the Nazis had receded with the victory in the Battle of Britain. Of course there were air raids and smaller raids, like that on Sark, and operations by the SOE in occupied France. The Allies instead took the war to Germany, instigating bombing raids on their towns and cities, while the German army was battling away in North Africa, the Balkans, and on its Eastern Front, finally lifting the siege of Stalingrad in January 1944. The war was beginning to turn in the Allies’ favour.

  Admiral Ramsay, no
w safely back in England, was in charge of planning the naval element of Operation Overlord, which finally took place in June of that year, and became known as the D-Day landings. He was to be killed in an air crash in January 1945.

  Sheila, meanwhile, is stuck in Alexandria and extremely frustrated. When she hears that one of her junior officers, who was sent back home, has managed to get on Ramsay’s staff as a 2nd Officer, she is quite beside herself. Like Bruce, she is an ‘invasion addict’ and feels useless now that the action has moved back to Europe, and her office and work has been significantly downgraded.

  Her boyfriends, on the other hand, are still involved in the fighting, as the battle to take Italy is in full swing. In January the Allies landed at Anzio and by June they had taken Rome. All of them were to be there at some stage during the year: Bruce at the turn of the year, John and Robin in August. The latter has left Iraq and she is expecting to see him in Alexandria on his way to Italy, via Algiers. She has even heard from Paul, who is now in Gibraltar as a flotilla officer, ‘not at all bad for an RNVR’. She intends to visit him on her return to England, as she was ‘always rather keen on him’.

  Thus 1944 is the year that she tries desperately to get a transfer – India, Ceylon, Algiers or, as a last resort, back to England to apply for a final posting. Her scrapbook contains copies of all the cables she sent in her efforts to go to India and Ceylon and bear witness to this. She has not seen her family for two years and she is bored with Egypt now the battle is over. You get a real sense of disappointment and frustration as the year unfolds, although she never loses her sense of humour or capacity for enjoyment.

  ❖❖❖

  In January, there is ‘very little news’. She doesn’t even recount her New Year’s Eve, normally a big fixture in her life. She is pleased to report that she is to receive the Africa Star for her services in the Middle East. However, in the same letter, she sadly notes, ‘Please note my new address – there no longer exists a C in C Levant – we now form part of the Med Command Flag office, Levant and Eastern Med we are. What a comedown, how are the mighty fallen.’

  She is worried that Ann Halliday, no longer a ‘great friend of mine’, stationed in Haifa with John Pritty, has been ‘putting him off me’, as she has not heard from him for over a month. Adding to her feelings of isolation are the departures of many of her close friends – Esmé to Cairo, Idwal and Dick from her watches, both to London, yet she seems to be stuck despite having been in Egypt longer than anyone, although she writes hopefully, ‘we are liable for service anywhere in the Med now, so don’t be surprised if I suddenly change my address.’

  She has been filling her time sending parcels home, ‘jellies, cream, peel and so on’, and to Bruce in Italy who is finding it hard to get things like ‘blades, soap, boot polish, hair cream etc. He is a very great dear.’ This expression is Sheila’s highest accolade of affection and she applies it rather liberally to various men, and sometimes to girlfriends too. In the next letter Robin Chater is described as ‘a great dear but terribly shy.’

  Her mood changes when Robin arrives, as promised, in Alexandria and they have a great few days together. She ‘immediately removed … bag and baggage to Le Mediterranean Hotel nearby, and lived in luxury for 2 days. It really is the most comfortable spot I’ve struck in Egypt – remarkably soft beds, beautifully furnished (the place has only been opened about 4 months and is brand new) and it was so heavenly to have a private bathroom of one’s own – I spent my time popping in and out of the bath!’

  He is very musical and they go to hear Pouishnoff play and then to a concert by Sheila’s teacher, Elizabeth Vegdi. No sooner has Robin left than she goes on to Port Said, where she was evacuated during The Flap before going to Ismailia, to the very same YWCA, and into the arms of yet another boyfriend:

  In bed 29/1/44

  … Sybil Hoole and Barbara Banks are stationed here and it has been grand to see them again, and Jaap van Hooff is here at the moment, and it has been very interesting to see what we think of each other after two years. He has changed a lot in my sight, but funnily enough he doesn’t think I have altered much at all, so now you have first hand knowledge, from someone who should know, of what I am like at the moment! I feel very calm about the whole thing, quite different from two years ago and really we are having a very gay time. I like Port Said, it’s small and friendly – a lovely flat hard beach to walk along – yesterday Barbara and I walked about 5 miles, and I even paddled the weather was so marvellous – eventually we picked up a truck and drove back – Today Jaap and I are going to hire bicycles and cycle along the beach as far as we feel inclined – and this evening we are going to dance at the Officers’ Club. Tomorrow we may go down to Ismailia – it depends on duties, really. I am staying here till Wednesday. It would have been fun to have gone to Palestine, but alone would have been a bad thing I think. Anyway, the rest here is doing me tons of good – not that I’ve had a very hectic time in Alex these last six months! I am very much hoping my days there are numbered. I am determined to get out at all costs, wherever I go – Algiers, Gib, home, Colombo – anywhere – I can hear you saying ‘I wish Sheila hadn’t met that Dutchman again’! Don’t worry, I’m emotionally stable these days – too much so, I think. It has been grand for 2 such good and old friends as Jaap and I to meet. By the way I sent you 8 jellies, and 2 tins of cream last week – I hope they arrive safely. I am going to look for my grandfather’s grave when I have a minute. Heaps of love to you and Pa – Sheila.

  It is fascinating to read that she has been looking for her grandfather’s grave in Port Said. As mentioned in the introduction, her grandfather, Findlay’s father, died at sea en route to China with his regiment. It was believed he was buried in Port Said where his body was off-loaded. According to the Nautical Report of 1895:

  January 23rd [1895] 3.00 am Sgt Major W. Mills departed this life

  10.15 am Arrived Port Said

  0. 05 pm Sent Remains of Sgt Mills on shore for burial

  1.42 pm proceeded

  My mother was always fascinated by her father’s forebears and, after her death, I found a whole series of files and correspondence with various genealogists; she was quite determined to reveal the secrets of her grandfather’s illegitimacy. Sadly she never did. However, in a letter dated September 2000 to one of the researchers, she wrote:

  I was in the WRNS during the war and one of the jobs that fell to me whilst serving in the C in C Med in Alexandria in 1942 was to help prepare accommodation for the Wren ratings at a convent in Port Said. When I told my father about this some time later he said Oh that must be the one to which my mother and I were taken on my father’s death at sea. Stupidly, I never followed this up, and he certainly didn’t tell my mother with whom he had rather an unsatisfactory relationship! The convent was on the sea front; I don’t remember its name but doubtless could find it. Subsequent enquiries in Port Said, which I have visited several times since, have revealed nothing as to where he was buried.

  ❖❖❖

  Her letters now frequently refer to her agitation over her future and her growing discontent over her treatment by her superiors. She seems convinced that she is headed East, all the same:

  Office of FOLEM

  7/2/44

  My dear Ma – As you see, here I am back again in Alexandria, the same old office! I really had a marvellous leave in Port Said with Jaap van Hooff – dancing, eating, drinking, laughing, and being altogether very gay. Leave’s much more fun with old friends. When I arrived back in Alex I found to my fury that I had been removed from my own watch, whom I was very fond of, and in charge of one with none of my old friends on – This made me very cross, as I always seem to hold the baby for someone, so I determined not to sit down under it, added to this was the fact that we may not be sent home for at least 2 1/2 years, so I have written a request to the Signal Office for further service abroad in India or Ceylon, and he has said he will do his best to get me there, quickly – I don’t know where it will be
– I rather hanker for Ceylon – and don’t want to go to Bombay much, but will certainly go anywhere I am sent (I’ll have to anyway!) I have been medically examined and am fit, so all is well! I do realise that this may be rather disappointing to you, but as far as I can see I wouldn’t be home immediately, and as you know, I am longing to see a bit more of the world having gone this far. I was very keen to take a signal course in Haslemere, but there again, I would have to wait for it and I feel I must leave this place soon –