Brave Faces

by Mary Arden

  ‘I’m here to help the Senior Night Vision Tester, Simple Simon,’ I replied, laughing, and then added, ‘Aren’t you a bit old for nursery rhymes?’

  ‘You can never be too old for a nursery rhyme!’ he said, laughing.

  ‘Oh, so are you more of a Peter Pan than a Simple Simon then?’

  ‘That’s for you to find out,’ the pilot replied, giving me a wink as he left the testing room.

  As I turned around to help Anne tidy the braille boards she remarked, ‘I wish I was able to be as at ease with the pilots, as you obviously are.’

  ‘It’s not so hard, Anne,’ I told her, ‘I just treat them as though they are my big brothers.’

  ‘I don’t have any brothers,’ Anne said, in a rather forlorn voice.

  ‘You can share mine!’ I joked, and I was rewarded with a huge smile and a small giggle. Well that’s a start, I thought, Anne is obviously going to need me around to cheer her up as well as organise her light fittings.

  During the afternoon I made a list of all the things I thought we were missing in the office and then made a second list of things that I thought might lift morale, such as a lampshade, an electric kettle, a heater in the Testing room, and a mat on the floor of our office. I then went through Anne’s filing system, which consisted of a large cardboard box full of files. It was so heavy that I couldn’t lift it off the floor, so I decided there and then to request an extra table and a proper filing cabinet.

  After work Anne took me to see her billet. It was quite cosy for a Nissen hut, with pretty curtains at the windows, a small jar of flowers on a table and, I noticed, that there were only four beds instead of the usual six.

  As I lay in my bed that night, with a lovely hot water bottle at my feet, I was thankful that I was billeted at the Inn, as it was much better having my own room.

  The next morning I decided that I’d better go and introduce myself to Commander Lewis, so went in search of CPO Turner to see whether it was necessary to make an appointment to see the Commander; apparently it was, and the Chief said that he’d arrange it for me. He then called over his two young SBAs, ‘Mary, may I introduce my two colleagues. This is Laurel and Hardy.’

  ‘How do you do, Laurel? Hello Hardy, I’m Mary Arden,’ I said, shaking their hands. The two SBAs then left and the CPO, realising that I hadn’t understood that ‘Laurel and Hardy’ were just their nicknames, roared with laughter and explained that in the Navy, all tall thin men were given the nickname Laurel, and all short fat men were called Hardy, after the famous silent-movie comedy duo.

  ‘Don’t they mind?’ I asked, a bit concerned that they might take offence.

  ‘I think they’re so used to their nicknames that they’ve forgotten their real ones,’ the CPO joked, ‘and I bet they wouldn’t answer to their real names if we called out to them now.’

  When I got to our office, Anne told me that, as there were now two of us, we would be able to do four tests a day rather than just two. We agreed to do alternate tests, like I had done with Lydia.

  The CPO then popped his head around the door and said, ‘Surgeon Commander Lewis will see you at 10.30 this morning, Mary.’

  ‘Thanks Chief, by the way we need another typewriter and an extra chair in here. Do you know how we go about getting these things?’

  ‘I’ll see to getting these things for you once you have authorisation from the Commander,’ the CPO promised.

  ‘There are a few other things we could do with as well.’ I said cheekily.

  ‘Well, good luck with that!’ he said laughing, as he left the room.

  On my way to Commander Lewis’s office, I noticed that the door to the Wren Writers’ office was ajar, so I decided to go in, introduce myself, and then explain why I was there. I noticed that these girls had everything a proper office should have, including a filing cabinet, a built-in cupboard for stationery, table lamps and plenty of chairs and typewriters.

  ‘Excuse me for asking, but where do you make your coffee and tea?’ I asked one of the girls. She opened one of the cupboard doors, and inside there was a tray with mugs, a tin of coffee, a packet of tea leaves, a bowl of sugar, a bottle of milk, and best of all an electric kettle.

  Aha, I thought, deciding then and there that I’d definitely add a built-in cupboard to our list of priorities.

  ‘Where’s the power point?’ I asked, ‘Do you plug the kettle in next to the typewriters?’

  ‘And have some nosey Wren PO ticking us off; not on your Nelly!’ the girl replied, and pointed to a power socket hidden underneath the shelf in the cupboard. That’s exactly what I will ask to have done in our room too, I thought.

  One of the other girls then whispered, ‘You won’t say a word about our electric kettle and secret brewing things, will you?’

  ‘Of course not,’ I said, thankful that I wasn’t the only one to have problems with bossy Wren POs.

  At 10.30 on the dot I knocked on Commander Lewis’ door and waited.

  A deep voice said, ‘Come in.’

  The Commander was reading some papers on his desk and gestured for me to sit in one of the chairs without looking up. I could tell immediately that he was overworked and fussed, so decided that I’d better keep my second list with the electric kettle and a lampshade for another time.

  ‘This Testing thing?’ he said, still looking down at his papers, ‘Is it really worth doing?’

  ‘Yes Sir, I believe it is, ‘I said honestly, ‘We have recently carried out a special test with some of the pilots where they have had to refrain from drinking for forty-eight hours, and we discovered that their night vision was then twice as good as usual. We now make a special point of reminding pilots and their observers not to drink when night-flying. It would of course be better if they didn’t drink at all, but it’s asking a bit much isn’t it?’

  Commander Lewis finally decided to give me his full attention: ‘Tell me more.’

  I then told him in much more detail about what we had been doing, and how Commander Timpston insisted that the pilots abstain from drinking alcohol for twenty-four hours before flying, day or night. Commander Lewis then told me about the recent spate of careless accidents at HMS Heron, which he thought might have been caused by the pilots drinking too much alcohol, although he admitted that he had no evidence to support this theory. I suggested that he might consider trying the no drinking before flying rule here at HMS Heron, and he nodded agreement.

  Now that I had the Commander onside, I thought I’d better take advantage of the moment.

  ‘I understand that at the moment you make all the bookings personally for the Night Visions Tests directly with the Commander Flying,’ I said, ‘but might I suggest Sir, that if we had some sort of internal telephone extension in the NVT office, we could relieve you of all that work? At Daedalus, the Testers made their own arrangements.’

  The Commander looked surprised. ‘I only have to organise up to twelve young men a day to come for tests – and an occasional re-testing whatever that is – on a Saturday morning.’

  ‘Yes Sir,’ I replied, ‘but now there are two of us testing that will mean twenty four or even more tests for you to organise every day.’

  ‘Oh God!’ the Commander sighed, ‘I hadn’t thought of that.’

  ‘If you have no objection, Sir, perhaps you could have a word with the Commander Flying, and once we’ve got a telephone organised in our office you won’t need to concern yourself about our unit at all.’

  ‘I’ll think about it,’ the Commander said and then went back to reading the papers on his desk. Our meeting was obviously over, but as I still wanted to mention my lists to him, I thought, it’s now or never, so spoke up.

  ‘Now that there are two of us, Sir, and there’s only equipment for one, we need a few more things for the office; another typewriter, another chair, a proper filing cabinet and somewhere to put all the extra stationery. May I write you a list and leave it with you, perhaps tomorrow?’

  ‘Yes, yes’ he said impati
ently wanting to get on with his work, ‘once I have approved your list, I will authorise CPO Turner to make the necessary arrangements.’

  I left Commander Lewis’s office and walked as quickly as I could back to tell Anne the good news. She was thrilled and made me recount my whole conversation with the Commander; we agreed that all we had to do now was make one list rather than two, and to my delight, Anne immediately put a fresh sheet of paper in her typewriter and began to make up our new list.

  ‘There is no hurry, Anne,’ I said, ‘it doesn’t have to be in until tomorrow.’

  ‘Let’s hand it in this evening, just in case he changes his mind!’ Anne said laughing. It was the first time I had seen her look really happy since I had arrived.

  The following morning after my first test was finished CPO Turner put his head around the corner of our office door and asked me if I could come to his office for a few minutes, as he had something he needed to discuss with me.

  ‘You’ve got a nerve, Mary,’ CPO Turner chuckled, as he pulled up a chair for me to sit on. To my delight Commander Lewis had said ‘no problem’ to everything on the list except the built-in cupboard, which he queried. I explained to the CPO that we needed to have somewhere to store stationery and somewhere secure in which to put our personal belongings. ‘And somewhere to hide an electric kettle and our tea-making things,’ I added cheekily with a grin.

  Chief threw his head back and laughed, ‘You’ve been in the Writers’ office haven’t you?’

  ‘Yes I have,’ I replied, ‘we don’t mind buying our own kettle, but we would need a socket hidden underneath the shelf like they have, if that’s possible.’

  ‘Yes Madam!’ he joked, ‘Anything else I can do for you?’

  ‘Well we do need somewhere to hang our coats and mackintoshes if it’s been raining and perhaps a hook inside the cupboard door would be useful too, to hang our gas mask cases on.’

  ‘I think you mean somewhere to hang your handbags!’ he grinned.

  ‘How do you know that?’ I gasped.

  ‘Nothing gets past me, Mary, and you would do well to remember that,’ he said with such a straight face that I wasn’t completely sure whether he was pulling my leg or deadly serious, so decided not to push my luck any further.

  ‘I am amazed that the Commander authorised everything.’

  ‘So am I; I suspect that he is so busy that he hasn’t really gone through it thoroughly, he’s left that to me, so you are jolly lucky that I am in a good mood today,’ Chief said wagging a finger at me, but smiling again.

  I thanked the Chief and was just about to leave when I remembered the most important thing of all that I had omitted from the list.

  ‘I couldn’t help noticing that we haven’t got what we called at Daedalus a ‘Panic Button’ on the NV Testing Room door.’

  ‘What’s that?’ Chief asked.

  ‘Imagine a girl on her own locked in a pitch-dark room with several young men. Obviously, things could get out of hand, and if it did, then she could press a panic button, which sets off an alarm in the corridor to alert someone outside the room to come to her rescue,’ I explained and suggested that a spare key should be kept in his office for this purpose.

  After work that day, on the way to the NAAFI, I heard someone singing in one of the hangars, so went to investigate. At the back of the hangar there was a small stage with a piano on it and standing next to it were two women in civilian clothes who were sorting out some sheet music. There was also a small group of people sitting at a table reading scripts. One of the people sitting at the table then noticed me and asked if I needed any help. I asked him if he would mind me sitting quietly and watching the rehearsal, which he said was no problem and pointed to a chair. A woman began playing tunes from some of the latest London shows that I recognised at once. I looked at the people at the table and realised they were mostly Officers, and a few civilians, so hoped they wouldn’t mind a mere Leading Wren barging in on them but they seemed to be totally oblivious to my presence. On the stage, the younger of the two women began to sing, but it was obvious that something was wrong with her voice and it sounded as if she had laryngitis. She suddenly stopped singing and apologised saying that she wasn’t feeling well enough to go on.

  ‘Do you know anybody else who could go through these songs instead of you?’ a Third Officer Wren asked the young woman, whose voice had just let her down. The woman shook her head, and said she had asked everybody that she knew in the village, but no one was willing to spare the time.

  ‘I know the words,’ I blurted out.

  Everybody turned around and stared at me in surprise. One of the men then asked if I’d been to any of the West End shows recently. I replied that I had seen a few of the shows the previous year and that’s why I knew the words of the songs.

  ‘Would you be willing to help us out?’ the woman at the piano pleaded. I told them that I would love to, and started to walk towards the stage. One of the men then suggested that we should run through a song before making any decisions, as to who would replace the girl with the cold; who I noticed, had made a discreet exit.

  ‘The revue is going to be held in one of the hangars, and as we don’t have any microphones you will need to sing as loudly as you possibly can,’ he informed me, as I made my way nervously up to the stage.

  ‘Are you a soprano or a contralto?’ the pianist asked.

  ‘I’m a soprano, but I can sing fairly low too if required,’ I said quietly.

  The pianist played a few lines of the music and asked me if it was in the right key. I began to sing quietly, surprised that I could remember so many of the words.

  ‘Sing a little louder dear,’ the pianist instructed, ‘in fact, sing as loudly as you can. Can you hear the words back there?’ she asked loudly, aimed at the group round the table.

  I felt a bit shy at first, but once I’d got into the song I forgot about everybody, and began to enjoy myself. When I finished the song there was silence for a moment and I started to wonder if they didn’t like my voice so I asked, ‘Was that all right?’

  ‘We heard every word,’ one of the Officers said, standing up and coming towards the stage, ‘what’s your name?’

  ‘Mary, Sir, I mean Wren Arden, Sir.’

  ‘Don’t worry; first names are fine in here! Can you sing Christmas carols, Mary?’ he asked.

  ‘Oh yes, Sir, we learned them at school.’

  ‘Can you sing one for us?’

  I then turned to the pianist and asked her if she knew ‘Silent Night’, which thankfully she did, and as she played, I sang the song in German, as we had been taught to do at school, much to the amazement of all those watching me.

  When I had finished, the Officer said, ‘Thank you Mary, but do you know the words in English?’

  ‘Yes I do, but I thought that it might be an idea to sing it in German for your revue to remind everyone that not all Germans are Nazis.’

  ‘Are you a German sympathiser then?’ one of the women at the table asked sarcastically.

  ‘No Ma’am, certainly not, but as it’s Christmas aren’t we supposed to forgive our enemies?’

  There was a deathly hush for a moment, and then one of the other Wren Officers stood up and said, ‘You are quite right. It’s a super idea.’ The male Officers then all looked at each other grinning and nodded their agreement.

  The Wren Officer then asked me if I could act, and when I said that I loved acting, she told me that they were about to start rehearsals for some sketches the following week, and so she wanted me to attend the rehearsals. But when she told me the times I would be required, I suddenly realised that I wouldn’t be able to come, as my transport back to Queen Camel left at eight sharp, and the rehearsals would go on well past that time.

  ‘Oh, that’s no problem,’ one of the Officers replied, ‘you can request a late pass; I’ll make sure of that!’

  ‘And Freddy can take you home after the rehearsals are over, as he lives quite near Queen Camel.’ />
  ‘Which one of you is Freddy?’ I asked.

  ‘Ah, Freddy,’ said an Officer: ‘or I should say, Sir Frederick Marshall; he is our esteemed director of the show, and a lovely old gentleman to boot.’

  The pianist joined in, laughing, ‘I think Freddy has only agreed to do the show so that he can get some extra petrol coupons!’

  The following week, we rehearsed every night, and I discovered that Freddy was actually a very good director, with plenty of experience so we were in good hands. On the Friday evening, a local woman came along to measure us for our costumes. For my part as an angel in the Nativity play, she said she would make my costume out of a pretty white nightgown, which had belonged to her elderly aunt. Another woman said she would make my wings from transparent organza, bits of Christmas tinsel, and strong fuse wire and then sew them on to the back of my gown.

  When I tried the outfit on during the first fitting a week later, the wings started to flap about on their own instead of staying rigid on my back, so it was decided that they should be taped firmly around my chest to keep them steady. However, this created another problem, as it now made my breasts stick out even more than they did already. This was very embarrassing, and it didn’t help that the three kings forgot their lines, as they had been looking at my bust instead of the shining star above their heads. Freddy wasn’t impressed at all and let everyone know in no uncertain terms.

  Fortunately, the costume lady was able to rectify the situation, using a small, loose-fitting white-net over-garment, which had been made from an old net curtain. It hung loosely down the front of my gown disguising the tape and my bosoms, while at the back my wings were now threaded through slots. Problem solved.

  There were other little hitches like these, but as the rehearsals progressed, the revue started to become quite professional and the whole cast was now taking it much more seriously.