Recollections of a WREN on D-Day

During the Second World War I was a telephonist in the WRNS. Early in 1944 I was drafted from Scotland to the Combined Operations Communication HQ, outside Portsmouth. We worked deep underground, one hundred steps down each duty!
As watch keepers we operated a twenty-four hour system on the switchboard. As D Day grew nearer we went from the 4-watch system to three watches – it seemed as if we were always on duty. During this time all leave had been stopped, all mail was censored, and we were confined just to the Portsmouth area. It was frantically busy, the switchboard was constantly ‘lit up’. There were many VIPs calling from the three services, along with calls from Number 10 and Buckingham Palace. One of my favourite callers was Sir Peter Scott, then a Lt Commander, on MTBs.

Our quarters were situated in a small village outside Fareham. About twenty of us were billeted with a retired Admiral and his wife. I wonder now how they were able to tolerate us. Our ‘cabin’ had been their sitting room complete with a grand piano. This could be played on condition it was classical music. Our leading Wren was a very good pianist and as soon as the Admiral was out of earshot she reverted to popular tunes we could sing along. The Admiral’s wife nearly jumped out of her skin on one occasion when she came across a sea of masked faces as we attempted a beauty session with Fullers Earth.

On the morning of June 5th 1944 we went on morning shift as usual, and night duty again at 7pm. I recorded in my diary that the Officer in Charge came to the switchboard room at 10pm and said “Tomorrow we start”. Although we had been expecting to hear news of the second front for weeks, when we actually heard it was imminent it came with disbelief. However, at this point the switchboard went ominously quiet.

Quotes from my diary June 6th 1944
10.45 pm ‘A few of us allowed up on top and from the fort we could see the ships, minute from where we were standing’
3.30 am ‘the great armada, we learnt, was 6 miles from the French coast
6 am ‘Went on to the hill, nothing but the drone of distant aircraft could be heard’

Came off duty, after what had been a momentous day. Looking back sixty years later, I can realize how important that day was to bring about the end of the war.

Diary June 16th 1944
‘Great news. We are to get 72 hours leave for all our effort.’

© Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.