Four years in blue by Mary Parker (nee Potter)

My home village of Collingham Bridge is in West Yorkshire, about 10 miles north of Leeds, and about 2 miles from Wetherby. My parents' house was across the raod from the railway station/ The station, which once resounded with the clatter of shunting and steam trains, has now gone. It was from here that I took my first steps towards actually joining the WAAF (Womens Auxiliary Air Force).

At that time I had a choice of either working in a munitions factory, the Women's Land Army, or in the services. I certainly didn't fancy munitions which were much too dangerous, but the services appealed to me, especially the RAF.

The first posting I had was to Innsworth in Gloucestershire, and the journey was a real adventure for me. I joined the train at Leeds station to find several other girls, who looked at me and said, 'Innsworth?'. When I said 'yes', they said 'join the clan' and so I travelled down in their company. It was a long, and as far as I was concerned, a very beautiful journey. The scenery surprised and delighted me as I had never travelled outside Yorkshire before. We were met at our destination by WAAF personnel and taken by lorry to the camp, where we spent a week or so being kitted out with everything we would need. I don't think we stopped for more than two minutes all week, we were chivvied to hurry up, morning, noon and night.

After being given our identity number to memorise (465441) (it was always the first question you were asked even before your name) we were kitted out, had medicals, and received pay books etc. We were moved to the other end of the country, to Morecombe, where we were destined to do our square bashing (marching drill).

We were billeted in various lodging houses, where summer visitors would normally stay. Our little lot were in the attic rooms, four to a room, and we had to take turns helping in the kitchen with the washing-up. We were not allowed our outdoor shoes in the house, and had to change into plimsolls in the hall.

Every day we were marched through the town onto the sands, and there we spent hours learning how to march properly and how to, and who to, salute. We were paraded to receive our pay. I can't remember if we had to sign for it, but we did have to salute the officer who distributed it.

Vaccinations and inoculations were given while we were in Morecombe, and some people were quite ill for a few days. The Medical Officer came every day and decided if you should stay in bed or if you were fit for duty. We were in Morecombe for several weeks. I can't remember how many, but we got our first leave at the end of that period.

After the leave period I was posted to a station just outside Manchester, and was directed into Barrage Balloon training, which commenced straight away. This was a large permanent station, and the barracks were centrally heated, which was nice. There was a plague of earwigs at that time, and they were everywhere, in the beds, in our clothes - we used to sleep with cotton wool in our ears to stop them crawling in.

This wasn't a particularly happy time for me. I didn't like the training we were having and I was scared stiff of the winding part which entailed winching the balloon up and down. I always felt as if the balloon was going to come down too far and too fast which made me panic. The going up was all right but not the coming down. We were taught everything about balloons including how to repair them.

This didn't appeal to me at all so I asked for a remuster, which would mean training for another trade or job, and was eventually allowed to do this, changing to instrument repairing. My training as regards balloons was now terminated and I was posted to Hurn aerodrome (now Hurn Airport).

The instrument section there dealt mainly with Horsa Gliders, which only had altimeters, and horizon indicators. The gliders were used as troop carriers and were in action at Arnhem [Note The Arnhem landings took place in 1944 after the time Mary had moved onwards]. They were stood out amongst the heather and we would get bitten to death by mosquitoes. We were billeted in Nissen huts which were on the primitive side. There was very little for me to do there unless some kind soul said 'you can come with me today'. I really think they weren't keen on having this WAAF foisted on them, although were decent to me, and I was quite happy there.

Three weeks slipped by and I was no nearer my new training course, or so it seemed, so I asked for an interview with the officer, which was granted, and I told her my little tale. She listened patiently, then looked through my papers and said, 'So you live in Collingham, do you know anyone who lives in School Lane because that's where I live?' After we had talked of one or two people known to both of us, she decided that, yes, I had been hanging about there rather a long time and she would see what she could do.

She did, because I got my posting to Melksham, a week or two afterwards on a Group 2 Instrument Repairers course. This taught me the basics of instrument repairing. It was a hard course, but I enjoyed it, and managed to get through it satisfactorily. It was very pleasant generally there, we could get into Salisbury and other nearby towns at week-ends. We visited Bradford-on-Avon from there, a lovely old place, with a very tiny Saxon church. At the end of the course, we were all given leave, then posted off to really start working.

I was posted to Ternhill in Shropshire, which was a Maintenance Unit, where Lancasters were serviced. They would come when they were due for service or had been shot up. Our part in the proceedings was to replace and sometimes repair instruments generally - except for the big gyro, which was sent away, to somewhere like Henlow. We also checked, and repaired, or replaced parts of the oxygen system that consisted of miles of aluminium piping which went all over the aircraft and loved to leak. The leaks were traced by going all round the piping, under tables and what have you, painting any joint, or any likely looking leak areas with soapy water and a paint brush. If it bubbled you had hit the jackpot, so to speak.

I was part of a fairly large section at Ternhill, and was taught by another (male) instrument repairer, who I went out on jobs with. I learned a lot of new swear words because if I was lying on the floor with only my legs showing (we wore trousers), there were times when the fact that I was a WAAF didn't register.

There was one bitterly cold winter at Ternhill when we were allowed to wear our scarves over our hats because it was so cold and windy. It was very bleak indeed, and quite a way from the billet to the work site, so we used to bicycle. The toilets and ablutions in some cases were frozen up and the WAAFs in those blocks were sent home. Unfortunately for us ours was all right.

It was while at Ternhill I had a spell in the Cookhouse. There was some moaning from the Cookhouse people that those who were in trade jobs didn't do any Cookhouse duties, so it was decided we should all take a turn, and I had to do two weeks. My duties consisted mostly of frying dozens of eggs, breaking them into a large pan of hot fat and taking them out again when they were cooked. The only good thing was the availability of food. We had to get up in what seemed like the middle of the night to be on duty at 4.00am. We were free by lunch time but everyone else was at work and it was very dull.

Once I had gained some experience at Ternhill I decided to go on to the more advanced (Group 1) Instrument Repairs course which was also at Melksham. In time I got on to the course and went back to Melksham where I met a girl from Shrewsbury and we became friends. After a few weeks sh had the very sad news from home that her brother, who was a flying instructor, had been killed in a crash with one of his pupils. She was absolutely distraught and went on compassionate leave, which left me at rather a loose end. That was how I came to meet my future husband, Alan.

We often went down into Melksham village. It wasn't far to walk. I decided I might as well go down there as I would probably meet some of the other girls. There was a little tea room run by a charity group, where we used to go, and we were always amused be the fact that they had the only teaspoon on a piece of string. When I went to get some tea Alan was busy stirring his tea with the spoon and started talking and so we sat together while we had tea and walked back to camp together. We started going out together from that day. Alan finished his course before I finished mine and he was posted to Cosford on an instructors course.

At Melksham there was a group of about five of us who would hire bikes and go out on Sundays, cycling to Salisbury Palin and spend the day hanging around and picnicking, returning in time for the evening meal. It was while I was at Melksham that one night we heard aircraft going over every few minutes; although we didn't realise it at the time, they were taking part in the invasion of Europe.

Alan and I decided to get engaged in the New Year 1944 and to get married at Collingham in September of that year. Alan had taken me to meet his parents previous to this, they were living at Sonning near Reading. On our engagement day (4 January) we travelled up to Collingham but the station at Paddington had been bombed, so we had to go via Birmingham. The ladies on the station at Birmingham were serving tea in jam jars because they had run out of cups; it is very difficult holding a jam jar of hot tea. After this leave together we went our separate ways again, Alan to Cosford and me to Melksham.

While I was out one Sunday later in the year, Alan came to Melksham to see me. He was waiting in the NAAFI to tell me that he was to be posted to Burma, and suggested that we got married by special licence, before he went. There wasn't much time but Alan managed to get the licence and then rushed around making the arrangements. I couldn't do anything as I was in the last week of a course and was due to take the exam that week.

I took the exam on the Tuesday afternoon, and we were married at 12 o'clock in Sonning on Wednesday 2 August. None of my people were able to come at such short notice, so Mr Read, who was a friend of Alan's parents, gave me away and Colin, Alan's brother, was Best Man. We both wore our uniforms. I had bought a wedding dress, but it was at Collingham so it was no use. I was able to have one or two days leave while Alan was at Blackpool, so we had a little time together, and my return train went from the same station as Alan was leaving from, so I was able to see him go.

Things at Ternhill were much the same as they had been previously, except that I was now able to carry out work unsupervised and did more responsible work. In November 1944 I took a board for my LACW (Leading Aircraft Woman) and passed.Some months later in 1945 I was recommended for a Corporal's course and having passed this was posted to Henlow, which was a well established Maintenance Unit with very good equipment and facilities.

My work there consisted of cleaning and repairing gyros used with the automatic pilot (always known as George). Each piece of equipment was stripped down, washed with white spirit using a small paintbrush and then dried by compressed air. It was then re-assembled and hopefully would work within certain tolerances. If not, I would try to find out why – the smallest speck of dirt could upset it. Sometimes it would take all day to find the fault, and at other times it was quite straightforward. If it worked I passed it on for inspection and went onto the next gyro. If the inspector wasn’t satisfied I got it back again and had to re-do it.

While at Henlow I used to go to see Alan’s parents at week-ends. It was quite simple to get a train into London, and from there out to Reading, and then a bus to Sonning. Once or twice, when there was bombing, the train from London to Henlow on the Sunday night was held-up in London with neither heat nor lights, and we would eventually arrive at Henlow in the early hours of the morning, frozen stiff.

WAAFs were billeted in married quarters at Henlow, and got about one bag of coal a month to heat the house, which had several girls in each room, so you can imagine how long the coal lasted. We didn’t get warm until we got to work.

Alan wrote in his letters that he had been taken ill, and he was eventually flown back to hospital in Singapore. He was there for some time and was then brought home by hospital ship, and went into hospital at Halton in Bucks. He was suffering from Sprue and Amoebic Dysentery. I was allowed to visit him at the hospital and he was looking very thin but otherwise not too bad.

On VE night (8 May 1945) I was on guard duty, which meant I had to sleep in the guard room and was awakened if needed. I also had to go round with the duty officer during the day and deal with the belongings of anyone who was absent without leave.

After hearing about Alan’s illness, and while he was travelling home, my demob number came up and I was demobbed at Birmingham in 1946, before Alan arrived home, which all worked out very nicely.

Travelling around in war-time was quite interesting, if a bit long winded sometimes. I would invariably end up at Leeds in the early hours of the morning and not be able to get a bus home until after 6.00 am; there were always plenty of people in the same situation and sometimes there would be someone going my way and we could share a taxi.