Heartwarming and emotional story of one girl's courage in WW2

by Fenella J Miller

  ‘I’ll miss you too.’ She swivelled on her seat and put her arms around his neck. His kiss was passionate and she responded willingly. Jack hammering on the window rudely interrupted them.

  ‘Enough canoodling you two, the train will be here in a minute.’

  She jerked away, her face scarlet, but Greg stroked her cheek and kissed her gently a second time. ‘Ignore him, he’s only jealous. Take care of yourself, sweetheart. Be careful on the drive back.’

  ‘And you be careful cycling to the base,’ she called after him.

  Neil had already wheeled his cycle onto the platform but Jack was waiting for Greg. He winked and saluted and then they were both gone.

  Her eyes prickled and she blinked back the unwanted tears. Hanging about at home would be unbearable. She would have far too much time to think about all three of them risking their lives every time they flew.

  It wasn’t too far to the recruitment office. She would leave the truck here and go and sign on right now. It might be only a couple of days after Christmas, but there was a war on and she was sure the office would be open.

  Sure enough the dingy hall was ready and waiting to receive volunteers. She filled in the forms stating that she had a preference for becoming a radio or wireless operator. If she couldn’t fly herself then the next best thing would be to talk to those in the air.

  A wireless operator would be paid 2/8d a day, 2d more than if she was to be a radio operator. Whichever trade she was selected for, her food, clothing, accommodation and medical treatment would be provided free. By signing up she was agreeing to remain with them for the duration of the war and had to be prepared to serve anywhere in the United Kingdom or overseas.

  She had handed over her log book, but they didn’t seem particularly interested in her experience in the air. However, she walked out feeling proud to be doing her bit. Her papers would come through when the next draft was called, which could be anything from a couple of weeks to a couple of months. This would give her ample time to prepare her family for her imminent departure.

  Twenty-five

  The New Year came and went with little celebration on her part. She was now writing to both Jack and Greg and their replies were the highlight of the week. Mrs B now insisted that she called her Mabel but Ellie was uncomfortable with that. Although she was happy for her dad, she was beginning to feel she was in the way.

  She had not told anyone she was joining the Women’s Auxiliary Air Force. She kept the news to herself until a brown envelope arrived telling her to report to the WAAF depot the following week. The waiting was over and she would have to explain to her family and Greg that she would be leaving, possibly for years.

  Greg was the first to be told. ‘You’ve done what? What in God’s name possessed you to do something so stupid? I thought we’d agreed you would stay where you are until we get married when this is over.’

  ‘I didn’t agree, you assumed. I’ll be far more use as a WAAF than I will be here. I know it means we won’t see each other, but…’

  ‘There’s a war on,’ he finished for her. ‘It’s incredibly selfish of you. Now I’ve got to worry about what’s happening to you as well as doing my job.’

  ‘I’m sorry about that, but it can’t be helped. I’d much rather be busy than waiting here for a phone call or telegram saying one of you has been killed. It’s possible I’ll get stationed at the same base as you, but if I don’t we’ll just have to get on with it like everybody else. There are several families in the village who haven’t seen their husbands or sons since they were sent to France last September. At least we can talk on the telephone occasionally.’

  There was a silence at the other end. This was the first disagreement since becoming engaged that they’d had and she hoped they could put matters right before he hung up.

  ‘There’s not much point in discussing it, Ellie, as it’s a fait accompli. Do you know where you’re going to do your training?’

  ‘I was told I would be put in the next draft and it could be anywhere in the country. I haven’t got my travel docket so don’t actually know at the moment.’

  ‘There aren’t any WAAFs here, but the adjutant said they are thinking of putting up some Nissen huts to accommodate them. I’m sorry if I sound upset, it’s just that I love you and the thought of you putting yourself in unnecessary danger is unbearable.’

  ‘I love you too. I promise I’ll be careful and not volunteer for anything I don’t have to. At least the weather has improved as I don’t fancy travelling in a blizzard.’

  ‘I’m sure there will be a telephone box within walking distance of the camp. Ring me and give me your address. It’s possible you’ll get a weekend pass when you’ve finished your training. If you can get home, I’ll meet you there somehow. By the way, my bicycle is the talk of the squadron. Much admired and will be bloody useful getting to and from the pub.’

  ‘I’m glad you like it. I’ve got to go; I haven’t told Dad yet. I wanted you to be the first to know.’

  ‘Your entire family will be in uniform in a few weeks. No one can say the Simpsons aren’t doing their bit for the war effort.’

  After a few more pleasantries they cut the connection. She’d already written to Jack and Neil and promised to send them the address of the training depot. All that was left was to try and explain to Dad why she’d decided to leave Glebe Farm. One of the reasons was the growing closeness between Mabel and him – and she could hardly tell him that.

  Both of them were in the sitting room – Mabel no longer used her own parlour. She poked her head around the door. ‘I’m going to make myself a cocoa. Do you want one?’

  ‘That would be lovely, and there’s the last of the Christmas cake in the tin,’ Mabel told her.

  Ellie thought it would be easier to make her announcement when her father was happily munching cake and drinking cocoa. The reaction she got was quite unexpected.

  ‘Well, love, you’ve always been a girl for adventure. To tell you the truth, I’d rather you were in the WAAFs than married. Don’t get me wrong, I like your young man, but he’ll take you away from me. He’ll want you to become like him, like your mother, and I won’t be good enough anymore.’

  She put down her cup and dropped to her knees beside him. ‘Dad, if I thought Greg was like that I wouldn’t have got engaged to him. This is my home and I’ll always come and see you as often as I can.’

  To her astonishment Mabel was sniffing into her handkerchief. ‘It won’t be the same here with you gone, Ellie love. I never had children, but if I had I would have wanted a daughter just like you. You don’t take any nonsense from anyone. I bet they have you made up to an officer in no time.’

  *

  The journey to the recruits’ training centre was interminable, the train freezing, the sandwiches and flask of coffee Ellie had brought with her were like a distant memory when she eventually disembarked. She looked around the almost deserted station in the hope of seeing some other girls who were on their way to the same destination.

  She was on her own, as she had been all day as the train had shunted in and out of sidings and stopped at innumerable anonymous stations. She was wearing her warmest slacks, long johns, plus a blouse and two jumpers. On top of all this was her thick leather flying jacket. At least she wasn’t going to get cold, however far she had to walk.

  The ticket collector shook his head when she asked him for directions. ‘It’s two miles to the barracks, miss, I don’t think you should try and walk it, not in this weather. If you sit in the waiting room I reckon they’ll send someone for you. Maybe there’s a few more girls coming on the next train.’

  ‘When is the next train?’

  ‘That’s anybody’s guess, yours was over an hour late. Should be one before dark.’

  Ellie thought for a moment. ‘Thank you, but I’ll walk. I’m a country girl and a couple of miles is nothing even in the snow.’

  If she’d been wearing a skirt as most young ladies would be she would
never have attempted it. But dressed as she was, she was sure she’d reach her destination without mishap. Her belongings weren’t in a suitcase but in a knapsack. Dad had dug it out from the attic for her – it was the one he’d had in the last war.

  She tied her scarf around her mouth, pulled the flaps of her flying helmet over her ears, settled the goggles on the end of her nose, and was ready to set off. There was no danger of her getting lost as all she had to do was follow the road she was on. Despite the swirling snow she made good progress and a little over half an hour later she spotted the gates.

  She wasn’t sure of the correct protocol – but decided she would announce herself to the huddled shape in the gatehouse. She stood outside for a few moments waiting to be acknowledged but she was ignored. The windows were so steamed up perhaps he couldn’t see her.

  Her second bang on the door elicited a response, but not the one she was expecting. The man’s head jerked up and he stared back with open mouth. Then he was on his feet. The door was flung open and she almost wet herself when he pushed a rifle into her middle. She stumbled back and ended up on her bottom in the snow.

  ‘Sod me! I beg yer pardon, miss, I thought we was being invaded by the Huns.’ He reached down and hauled her to her feet with a sheepish grin.

  ‘That’s all right, I expect it’s my goggles that did it. I’m Ellen Simpson, reporting for training.’

  ‘Where did you spring from? We didn’t expect the next lot until this evening.’

  Ellie hoped this interrogation wouldn’t take too long. The snow had seeped through her winceyette long johns as well as her slacks and they were both clinging unpleasantly to her rear end.

  ‘I walked here from the station.’

  ‘Good for you. Come in for a minute whilst I ring through. They’ll send someone from admin to get you.’

  Sure enough in less than ten minutes a female figure, muffled in a greatcoat, arrived at the door. ‘Good heavens, Simpson, this isn’t a good start.’ The young woman stared at her and obviously didn’t like what she saw.

  Ellie realised she’d committed a major faux pas – in fact two – firstly by not wearing stockings and skirt and secondly by having the temerity to walk on her own and not wait for the designated transport. She was tempted to offer go back to the station, but that would be childish.

  Despite the disapproving look she wasn’t going to apologise. She had been instructed to report immediately to this place and she’d done exactly that.

  ‘Don’t stand there gawping, Simpson, follow me. I’ll conduct you to your barracks, but I warn you it won’t be very pleasant as the stove isn’t lit until five o’clock.’

  Ellie smiled pleasantly but didn’t reply. The years she’d spent at school had taught her it was better not to provoke those in authority.

  The inside of the two-storey building she was taken to was almost as cold as the outside. ‘I’ve no idea which are your quarters. There are lists pinned to the wall. Find your name and wait in there.’

  With a swirl of her coat the unpleasant woman left her to her own devices. Ellie shivered in her wet clothes but refused to be cowed. Being here was her choice, she was going to make the best of it and not allow anything to depress her.

  She found her name on the third list. The dormitory, if that’s what it was called here, was easy to find and was even colder than she’d feared. There were five beds either side, arranged head to foot against the wall, and a large black stove in the centre. The iron bedsteads were stacked with three flat brown squares which presumably made up the mattress. On top were four blankets and two rough cotton sheets held together by a fifth folded blanket. The pile was finished by a lumpy pillow – there didn’t appear to be a pillowslip for this.

  She was first in so could choose which bed she wanted and decided on the one nearest the door. It might be beneficial to be able to exit first in some circumstances. As she was on her own there was no need for modesty. She stripped to the skin, dried herself with the towel she’d brought with her, and then hastily dressed again. This time she put on the one skirt she’d brought with her and her lisle stockings. She wasn’t sure what to do with her wet slacks and long johns, they certainly wouldn’t dry in here at the moment.

  She draped them over the end of the bedstead and put her knapsack on the floor beside it. There was a locker which doubled as a bedside table, a mat and a couple of hooks behind each bed – surely there was more storage space than that for each of them?

  Her belongings went in the locker. She didn’t want to get anything personal out until she was sure she wasn’t going to upset anyone by having the place she’d selected. Her clothes looked untidy over the bed so she hung them on the hooks.

  Her stomach rumbled loudly. She’d had nothing to eat today apart from the picnic Mabel had provided. She might as well explore the building as she was going to freeze to death if she remained in here much longer. Even with her flying jacket, scarf and gloves on she was perishing.

  The floors were stone, a reminder of their Victorian past. The bathrooms were no more than functional and when she turned a shower on only cold water emerged. Hopefully there would be hot in the mornings and evenings when they wanted to wash.

  To keep the blood flowing she marched briskly up and down the long corridor until she was tired and then retreated to her dormitory. There were no chairs; the floor was too cold to sit on and she didn’t dare unpack the mattress or bedding so she could use the bedstead as a seat.

  There was kindling, newspaper and two hods of anthracite. She wasn’t going to remain in the cold for another minute. Perhaps she should light the stove despite the fact she’d been told it mustn’t be done until five o’clock. There was ice forming on the inside of the windows, her breath steamed in clouds in front of her, and she couldn’t feel her extremities. Then she noticed that the long johns and slacks were rigid – the wet patches had frozen solid.

  She had to remove her gloves to get the stove going but it was worth it. Half an hour later the cast-iron was red hot and she was beginning to thaw out. When the other girls arrived, instead of finding a damp and dismal dormitory, they would walk into somewhere a little more cheerful.

  Having broken one rule, she decided she might as well make her bed so she had somewhere comfortable to sit. If she was going to be put on a charge it might as well be for two things instead of one. She’d already blotted her copybook, according to the unpleasant corporal, by arriving on her own. So much for wishing to make a good impression in her new life.

  If only she had something to eat and a hot drink everything would be tickety-boo. The strange three-piece mattress proved to be as uncomfortable as she’d feared, but at least there were plenty of blankets. She stretched out on her neatly made bed and dozed off.

  She was woken by the sound of girlish voices approaching. Now she was for it – but she didn’t care, she was warm and everyone else in the dormitory would be as well. She would be unpopular with those in charge but she was sure the other girls would be pleased.

  Their voices echoed down the empty corridor. For a horrible moment she thought they were going into a different room but then someone tentatively pushed open the door.

  ‘Golly, it’s lovely and warm in here.’ The speaker rushed in followed by the others. Ellie might as well have been invisible as they all ignored her. Her eyes filled. She slumped back on the lumpy pillow and put the blanket over her head.

  Someone poked her none too gently. ‘You shouldn’t have lit the stove or made up your bed. You will have us all on a charge because of your selfishness.’

  Ellie sprung out of bed expecting to be surrounded by a circle of accusatory faces. Instead there was just one girl, the rest were smiling at her. This gave her the courage to stand up to the bully.

  ‘I arrived more than two hours ago and I was damned if I was going to freeze to death whilst I waited for the rest of you to turn up. Instead of moaning, you should be grateful the dormitory’s warm.’

  The girl, ab
out her own age, but taller and thinner, raised her hand as if she was going to prod her again. ‘I’m already in trouble so go ahead, I’ll knock you on your backside with pleasure.’

  The girl lowered her arm and moved a few steps away.

  ‘Thank you for making this place bearable. Don’t take any notice of Iris, she thinks she’s in charge, but she’s not.’ The speaker walked across and held out her hand. ‘I’m Mary Smith, pleased to meet you.’

  ‘I’m Ellen Simpson, and I’m delighted to meet you.’ Mary was a bit older than her, with fair hair and pale blue eyes.

  Immediately Ellie was surrounded by the others and they seemed a pleasant bunch, apart from Iris, of course. Some of them had biscuits and they were happy to hand them over to her once they heard of her plight.

  ‘Are we the only new recruits on this draft?’ Ellie asked.

  ‘The driver of our bus said the rest are arriving tomorrow. We are the odds and sods who travelled up individually. I believe the rest are coming en masse from a rendezvous point,’ Daisy Jenkins said. Daisy was short and dark with a smile that made her plain face pretty.

  Ellie hoped she would become chums with Daisy and Mary.

  The other girls decided to make their beds up as well as they didn’t want to sit on the floor any more than she had. The room looked less austere once this was done. There was one bed still stacked with the bedding.

  ‘Where’s bossy boots gone?’ This question was posed by the girl who was next to the empty bedstead.

  ‘I bet she’s gone to fetch that nasty corporal,’ Daisy said.

  ‘I’m not going to be cowed by her, I’m sure there are plenty of decent aircraft women in admin – they can’t all be like Fitzwilliam,’ someone else said with a smile.

  ‘I shall own up to lighting the stove. There’s no need for anyone else to get the blame for that.’

  ‘I think that woman should get the blame for putting you in here and not taking you somewhere warm to wait. You showed initiative and guts walking in the snow. I’m sure whoever’s in charge will appreciate what you did.’