My days in the .A.T.S by muriel stephens

It all began in l942. At the age of 17 and working in a Bata’s shoe shop in Wickford high street I felt I wanted to join up and help so enlisted in the A.T.S.
Leaving home and getting on to the train to Northampton where I had to train for three weeks was daunting but must admit I was excited. Lots of us girls were homesick and waking up each morning to earwigs on our beds did not help. Learning to march was hard trying to understand the Sargeant’s orders, going left when we should have gone right did not please him.
Three weeks passed and we were posted after a test which found I was mechanically suited. Travelled to Oswestry to train for Radar. Eight weeks there made my head spin and I never thought I would learn anything. Well- I passed and was sent to a firing camp in Whitby .A long journey then to Wales onto a Gun site where if an alert came we had to dress hurriedly sometimes during a night to man the Radar transmitters
We lived in Nissen huts which housed 24 of us girls with a fire burner in the middle, which we sat around chatting and singing over a hot cup of cocoa or tea. We were always aware that we could be called out on an alert often with our battledress over our pyjamas. Running along planks over soggy wet fields to our posts with searchlights overhead we knew we were in for an active night.
Six months passed and one day I had to report to the Commanding Officer as she had received orders for me to report to the War Office.That scared me as I wondered if I had done something wrong!
In the pouring rain off I went to London.
Attended an interview and then an exciting time started.
I joined the A.T.S Band and was off around the UK as a Speaker for a Recruiting Campaign We spoke in Cinemas and on streets with the Band also Playing. Northern Ireland was an experience as even then we had police escorts with us.
Home to the UK again and onto a Blood Donors campaign.
In between trips we were stationed in Warwickshire House Gower Street.
The Blitz was on and one night I was thrown across my room when a bomb dropped nearby. Theatres gave us free tickets for shows and sometimes we ventured out to see one or two.
If a Siren went off to warn of a raid we had to make our way to an underground station where you saw the platforms full of families huddled in blankets, they stayed there all night to be safe the little children were crying and it tore on your heart strings to see it all.
Glen Miller concerts were a must for us as the music gave us such a lot of pleasure — he was the greatest-and played all through those dangerous areas where the bombs fell.
On my leaves I went home to Essex where the Battle of Britain was going on. My Mother made us all go down into the Anderson shelter in our garden, except for my Dad he just stayed in the house, stubborn man.
Silk parachutes were around where airmen had bailed out and I collected some and made blouses scarves and underclothes from them and I still have two embroidered scarves today.
In our front garden we had trenches built by the military and soldiers were there in case of an invasion. Mum used to make cakes and soups for them and I was also glad of some home cooking too.
My last post was with SHAEF (rear) I was in the PR office with Americans and Canadians, had to get used to their flirtatious ways. Loved every minute with them, I did not smoke so gave them my ration and they gave me their cookies.
On the whole my service life was very varied and interesting but all that radar training I had to do in the first place was wasted.
Even now at a great old age I still write to a few of the pals I met and never forget the experiences. It made me appreciate my home life and made me a better person.

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