Brave Faces

by Mary Arden

  When I found the ‘Wren’s Mess’, I joined the food queue, and watched carefully what the other girls were doing, so that I could do the same. I picked up a tray and some cutlery and was then handed a plate of mashed potatoes and baked beans. Seeing an empty seat at one of the tables, I asked the girl next to it if she would mind me sitting next to her.

  ‘Help yourself, we sit wherever we can, there’s no need to ask,’ she replied kindly.

  As I began to eat my meal I asked the girl what she thought of the food.

  ‘There is plenty of it, but it all tends to taste of Bisto, custard or a mixture of both!’ she quipped and then went on to say that the exception to the rule was on Fridays, when fish and chips was served, which everyone covered with tomato ketchup for a change of flavour.

  After our meal was over I wandered back to the NAAFI and was delighted to see Elsie’s familiar face, as I’d been feeling a bit like the new girl at school ever since I’d arrived. Poor Elsie looked exhausted, so I asked her why. She explained that the moment she’d reported for duty she’d been told that they were short staffed in the kitchen galley and she’d been asked to muck-in.

  ‘Thrown in at the deep end, I was!’ she said, ‘I ‘aven’t even ’ad time to unpack me things ’ave I?’

  She was obviously feeling shattered poor thing, but she told me that it should get a bit easier for her by the end of the week, once she began working regular hours. I bought her a cup of coffee and watched, as she piled three sugar lumps into it.

  ‘I need the bleedin’ energy,’ she explained, when she saw me looking at her, and then asked, ‘What are yer roommates like?’

  I told her that I hadn’t met my roommates yet but that the Nissen hut was very clean.

  ‘Let’s have a fag before I go to bed,’ Elsie suggested pulling out a packet of Woodbines, and offering me one. I felt uncomfortable taking one of her cigarettes knowing that she was so short of money, so offered her one of my Players instead, which she took gratefully.

  ‘I haven’t found anywhere to hide my cigarette case yet, Elsie, but I thought that when I’ve finished these ones I could put it in my handbag and lock it in my suitcase; I’m worried about carrying it around, after what you told me,’ I confided.

  ‘Why not use an ST bag?’ Elsie suggested, laughing. ‘Put it in one of them and leave it in yer locker, as no one would think of looking in one of those!’

  An ST bag was a strong paper bag that was provided in lavatories for soiled sanitary wear, so I thought it was a clever idea and would do as she had suggested.

  I then told Elsie about my run-in with ‘Po face’, and she laughed. ‘You got to stand up for yerself Mary and not allow ’em old cows to bully you.’

  Elsie then said she was worn out and that it was time she went to bed. ‘As soon as I get the hang of the new job, I’ll take yer down the pub,’ she promised.

  We said goodnight and after Elsie had gone, I sat for a while longer and waited until almost everyone had left the NAAFI before going to the telephone kiosk and ringing home. My mother answered my call so quickly that I wondered whether she’d been sitting by the telephone all evening, waiting for me to call her.

  I told her that I had arrived safely, that I would be sleeping in a dormitory with four or five other girls, although I hadn’t met any of them yet, and then told her all about my first encounter with the bossy Petty Officer. My mother passed the phone to my father, and after a short chat he suggested that I call reverse charges next time, so that we could talk for longer.

  When I arrived back at the Nissen hut, four of the other girls were already getting ready for bed, so I introduced myself to them. They all seemed very friendly.

  I noticed that Rosie, the girl in the bed next to mine, was putting her gasmask under her knickers in the drawer that we shared, so I asked her why she was doing that.

  ‘We all hide our gas masks under our knickers,’ she told me, chuckling, ‘as the POs wouldn’t dream of touching our personal underclothes and this way there is room in our gas mask cases for makeup, pay-book, fags and everything else we girls need to carry around.’

  ‘Won’t you get in trouble if you’re caught?’ I asked.

  ‘We’re not the only ones that do it,’ Rosie giggled. ‘I know a Steward who cleans for the Officers, and she says they all do exactly the same; shove their gasmasks in their lockers and use their case as a handbag!’

  I had a quick wash and decided to get into bed and read my book like the other girls were doing.

  ‘Gosh it’s hard,’ I said as I climbed into bed, thumping my mattress with my fists.

  Rosie suggested that I take the spare blanket from the bed that no one was using and put it over my mattress under the bottom sheet. She said that the girl who’d had my bed before me had done that, and it had made all the difference. I asked her what would happen if someone found out about what I’d done; would there be trouble?

  ‘You pretend you don’t know how it got there,’ Rosie said, giggling, as she helped me strip the spare bed and remake mine.

  ‘Thanks awfu… thank you very much,’ I said, remembering just in time to take Elsie’s advice on how I spoke.

  Rosie told me that she and Babs, the girl in the bed opposite me, were shorthand typists and were learning speed typing at the government’s expense, much to their delight. I told them that if I wasn’t accepted as Boat Crew, I might have to do the same. Then a rather good-looking girl came into the hut, and told me her name was Frankie, and that she was also a typist.

  The lights suddenly went out, so I thought there must have been a power cut, until one of the girls explained that the lights went out at eleven exactly, every night. ‘Bring a torch with you next time,’ she yelled across at me, laughing, in the darkness.

  About ten minutes later, I heard a window being opened and saw someone climbing through the window. It was Frankie.

  ‘Where’s she going?’ I whispered to Rosie, who replied, ‘She’s going out to say goodnight to her boyfriend, but keep your trap shut about it, as it’s against the rules.’

  ‘Why couldn’t she have said goodnight earlier?’ I asked innocently.

  ‘Because the way Frankie likes to say goodnight to her boyfriend is best done in the dark!’ Rosie said, and all the other girls sniggered.

  I lay down again and thought for a while about what Rosie had said, but it still didn’t really make sense to me: why did she need to climb out of the window? Oh well, it’s none of my business, I thought, as I shut my eyes and tried to go to sleep.

  About an hour later, I was woken up by a sound at the window. I sat up and saw Frankie trying to climb back in, but she was having difficulty, so I got up and helped her.

  ‘Are you going to do this every night?’ I asked grumpily.

  Frankie sighed and said dreamily, ‘If only!’

  I clambered back into bed and wondered why she took the risk of getting into trouble just for a kiss goodnight. He must be a very good kisser, I thought, as I drifted back to sleep.

  It felt as if I’d only been asleep for five minutes, when I was woken by a loud piercing voice shouting through a loudspeaker, ‘Wakey-wakey! Rise and shine!’

  I thought that the invasion must have started, so I quickly leapt out of bed, grabbed my dressing gown and hurriedly put on my slippers. No one else moved a muscle, except for Rosie, who pulled her sheet over her head and muttered, ‘Go back to bed Mary, that’s just the wake up call, we’ve got another half an hour before we have to get up.’

  I looked at my watch and saw that it was only six-thirty, but as I was already up I decided that I might as well go to the shower block before the other girls got up. I had never had a hot shower before, as at home and at school there was always a bath and no shower. At school we were able to lock the door while we washed ourselves for privacy, but now I saw that there was a row of showers with only a shower curtain to pull across. I felt a bit shy about anyone seeing me naked, so when one of the girls pulled back the shower cur
tain and asked me whether she could borrow my soap, I was very embarrassed.

  I need not have felt that way as when I came out of the shower most of my roommates were now up and coming into the shower block half naked to have a strip wash at the basins. The room soon became like a steam bath, as gallons of hot water ran into the drain from the basins. While the other girls were in the showers, I took the opportunity to put my silver cigarette case in the ST bag that I’d taken from the lavatory, as Elsie had suggested. When I was back in our hut, I then tucked the bag into my handbag and locked it into my suitcase, which I then put in the store cupboard with the other girls’ luggage.

  After breakfast I went for my first training session, which consisted mostly of marching up and down the parade ground. Most of the other new recruits, like me, were wearing cotton skirts and blouses, and having made the decision to wear my gym shoes instead of my sensible leather shoes, I hoped that I wouldn’t get any blisters.

  The air was warm and the sun was out, and I was used to doing PT at school, so I rather enjoyed the exercise. A male Chief Petty Officer (CPO) was in charge of the drill and seemed determined to transform this gaggle of uncoordinated young women into disciplined naval Wrens. He yelled at us until he was hoarse, and when a few of us went to our left, instead of to our right, which made us giggle, his face grew even redder and he told us not to disgrace the Navy. There was complete silence after that.

  At morning break, the NAAFI was packed out with perspiring, panting girls, begging the kind volunteers behind the counter for a drink of water. I had a quick drink and then ran back to the hut to change my blouse. As I was running back towards the parade ground, I was surprised to hear my name being called over the loudspeaker: ‘Mary Arden to report, at the double, to the Wren First Officer for category assessment.’

  I had no idea where the First Officer’s office was, and had to ask someone the way. I ran as fast as I could, arriving pink faced and breathless. There were about twenty other girls there already waiting to be sorted into suitable categories. I was told to leave my gasmask case on the pile by the door with everyone else’s. Looking at the pile of cases, I was thankful that my mother had suggested that I stick a red cross onto the outside corner of the flap, as they all looked the same and this would make it easier for me to recognize mine.

  Before we were due to go in to see the First Officer we all received instructions, ‘You address the Wren Officer as Ma’am, stand to attention until you are told to sit down, and do not speak until spoken to.’

  When my turn came, I entered the room feeling slightly nervous, but when I saw that the first Officer was a young and attractive woman with a smile on her face, I promptly forgot all that I had just been told.

  Smiling back broadly I said, ‘Good morning Ma’am.’

  The First Officer looked slightly surprised for a moment, and then told me to sit down. At least I had remembered to call her Ma’am, I thought.

  The First Officer told me that she’d received quite a few applications to join as Boat Crew from girls that had been brought up in fishing villages, so I must not be too disappointed if I didn’t get a place in this category.

  ‘How old are you?’ she asked, ‘I know it’s down on the form but I’d like you to tell me once again, it will save time.’

  ‘I’m eighteen Ma’am,’ I replied.

  ‘I see that you’ve helped out in Woking Cottage Hospital. What does ‘helping out’ mean?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m trusted with administering dressings and medicines, but I don’t mind carrying trays and emptying bedpans if they’re short staffed,’ I said proudly.

  ‘I must warn you that Boat Crew is a far cry from ‘helping out’ in a hospital. You won’t be sailing dinghies, you know; you’ll be helping a liberty boat crew go from ship to shore, and they go out in all weathers throughout the year, and it can be very rough and tough work.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t mind when it’s rough,’ I replied cheerfully, ‘That’s when one feels really at sea. If I was Boat Crew maybe I could be of use as a translator, as I’ve noticed that there are many boats in the harbour with flags from all over the world, and we learned about identifying flags when I was a Girl Guide.’

  The First Officer made a note and said, ‘That’s very observant of you.’ Then she looked at me and began, ‘I’m going to ask you rather a strange question now Arden: how much experience do you have with men?’

  When I didn’t answer her, she realised that I didn’t understand her question, ‘What I mean is, are you used to being around men? I see from your application that you were educated at a boarding school just for girls.’

  ‘Oh, I see,’ I said, ‘Well I have two brothers, and a lot of the time when I was growing up there were other boys in the house, as all our neighbours were boys. So I’m not shy with boys, if that’s what you mean.’

  The First Officer looked down at her notes, and then at me.

  ‘Would you mind staying up late at night? Because if you work as Boat Crew the hours can be very long and unpredictable; and you will be expected to work all hours of the day and night.’

  ‘Oh yes, Ma’am,’ I replied eagerly ‘recently, while doing the Season, ‘I’ve been up late dancing half the night.’

  The First Officer trying to conceal her laughter, then said, ‘I hope you brought suitable clothing to wear on a boat?’

  ‘Yes, Ma’am. I have navy slacks, deck shoes and a warm pullover.’

  ‘If you are accepted in this category, you will be fitted out with oilskins, suitable clothes and underclothes from the stores.’

  The First Officer looked at me seriously and then said, ‘Arden, I hope you’re aware that if you become a Wren you will be what we term ‘Other Rank’ and you will always have to obey the orders of your Senior Officers, and forget all about your privileged background.’

  ‘Yes, I know that,’ I replied cheerfully. ‘I must call male Senior Officers ‘Sir’ and Wren Officers ‘Ma’am’, and always salute them when out of doors. I read it all in the pamphlet. I don’t mind: rules are rules after all, and if it helps us to win the war, I don’t mind a jot.’

  The First Officer raised her hand to silence me and said, ‘Full instructions for your trial for Boat Crew tomorrow morning will be left outside the door of this office at sixteen hundred hours. Collect them in good time, read them carefully, and I advise you to get up early tomorrow morning and ensure you have checked the map that will be attached to your instructions, as you will have to find your own way to the quayside.’ Then, as an afterthought, she suggested that it would be a good idea if I ate a cooked breakfast, as she doubted there would be time for lunch when I was on the boat.

  ‘Thanks awfully for warning me,’ I said brightly. ‘I’ll get something from the NAAFI or make myself a sandwich from my breakfast ration.’

  The First Officer now laughed openly, and reminded me that if I became a Wren I would not be allowed to talk to other officers in such a familiar manner.

  I apologised, and said that I’d do my best. As I left, I felt elated that I was going to have the chance to prove myself suitable as Boat Crew.

  The next morning I ate as much as I could for breakfast, and then made myself a couple of marmalade sandwiches. I then returned to my hut to collect my pullover and the natty little scarf that Aunt Beth had given me, and set off full of confidence. In my gasmask case I was carrying a pair of sunglasses to protect my eyes, my marmalade sandwiches, the usual lipstick and a comb.

  Although I’d studied the map and instructions the previous evening and again that morning, I still had to ask directions several times, and it took me quite some time to find my way to the quayside. When I finally got there, a naval policeman stopped me at the barrier and asked me why I was wearing civilian clothes on government property without an identity card.

  ‘Oh, I’ve got my pass,’ I explained hastily showing it to him together with my instructions for the day, which thankfully, had been signed by the First Officer, ‘I’m ha
ving a trial run on a liberty boat today as Boat Crew, and I have to report to CPO Brownlow. Do you know where I can find him please?’

  He hesitated, looked at my paperwork and then at me again, and appearing to decide that my papers were in order, pointed to a boat that was moored a short distance from where I was standing, outside the gate. Slowly the barrier began to rise and the naval policeman waved me in, and then called out: ‘Good luck!’

  I turned back and waved. As I cheerfully strode towards the boat I saw that there were several sailors already on board, and then noticed a man wearing the uniform of a CPO, so I made my way towards him.

  ‘Mary Arden?’ the man enquired.

  ‘Yes Chief,’ I replied, grinning from ear to ear and handing him my papers.

  ‘I’m CPO Brownlow,’ he said, smiling at me. ‘If you don’t mind me saying so, you are a bit small for Boat Crew. All the other candidates are twice your size with muscles as big as a man’s.’

  ‘I am stronger than I look,’ I reassured him, but I could see by the way he was looking at me that he didn’t think I would be tough enough to be part of his crew.

  CPO Brownlow then told me to take a look around the vessel, which I did with great interest. Although I had plenty of sailing experience in various small boats during the summer holidays, I now realised that this would be completely different, and that I hadn’t really thought it through enough. However, I was determined to give it a try, and was not going to give up before we had even left the harbour.

  CPO Brownlow gave the crew their duties for the day. They had been ordered to pick up some Officers from the quay, and then take them from the shore to their ship. After the Chief had finished talking, he pointed at me and gestured for me to sit near the helm. I watched as two of the young crewmen cast off, and noticed how heavy the ropes were and that they really had to exert themselves to handle them.

  ‘Why are the ropes so thick?’ I asked one of the sailors.

  ‘Because the boat is damn heavy Miss!’ he replied, ‘and you don’t want them to break when you are out in rough weather trying to tie up to a Destroyer or a Battleship.’