About the contributor

W.W.2.

I had filled in the form, walked to the nearest post box, hesitated because it was snowing hard — and decided it was not the day for volunteering for anything But the next day I posted it. I had only been away from home for one weekend on my own before so this was quite a big step I had decided on — and I never regretted it. I was given a number, a travel warrant to Scotland, and once I was there I had three of everything in lurid pink, stout shoes, a uniform with lots of buttons to polish, and a kit bag. The ATS had its latest recruit.

It was a different world with a language of its own, but I had chosen it. I marched up and down, learned to salute, went to lectures and was told very strange things. Eventually we were given our postings and I was sent to Cambridge where there was a Holding Unit on a common called Parker’s Piece, and our section was Donkey Common.
The idea was that people would be sent there before going on to somewhere else, but I stayed put as a Pay Clerk. I had previously worked in a Bank so I suppose the Army thought that was the best place to put me. Our Commanding Officer was a strange woman who wore her khaki knickers well below her knees. The first Company Sergeant Major knew that she was not liked so one weekend she said formal goodbyes all round, packed her case, and went. Our spirits revived until she turned up again on the Monday pleased at having tricked us all. Her replacement was mad on geese which were kept in a shed on the site. I am not sure why we kept geese as we never ate them, and they did not lay eggs, Probably they nibbled the grass inbetween the wooden huts. One summer we took our beds outside to sleep, awoke early in the morning, stole away quietly and let the geese out to patrol the CSM’s bed. She initiated Company Evenings when we were told to be compulsorily happy. I remember having hysterics as it all got a bit much,

Our huts were wooden with wooden beds, and we slept on biscuits — a kind of mattress divided into three. There was a stove pipe in the middle of the hut and a coal bin. In true Army style we dusted the coal for inspections. It was easier to confirm rather than argue the toss. Our bedding had to be ‘barracked’ each morning with a sandwich of sheets, pillows and blankets in a set order. Huts were inspected each day and there was trouble if the least little thing was wrong. The hut blocks were in an ‘H’ formation with washing facilities in the middle. As we lived on Donkey Common our C.O. decided that we ought to have a donkey so one was acquired. Two of us used to have to take the donkey to the blacksmith’s just off the main road near the station to be shod. We did not exactly ‘take’ him as he had a will of his own and preferred to go sideways or any way but forward.
When there was a national drive to encourage people to buy Savings Bonds our donkey was brought into the picture again with a slogan over his saddle (I was painting slogans even then) and me in attendance charging for rides. The donkey did not think much of that idea either. I was never an outright animal lover so I think I must have been chosen for my height to try and intimidate the poor creature,

I went on various courses in far away places — or, at least, places I had never visited before. At Winterbourne Gunner on Salisbury Plain I was trained as a Gas Instructor. I am sure I did not volunteer for that! Up to the time my lot arrived, those on the course were sprayed with gas, but as the canister had fallen off from the aircraft previously and done some damage (whether to people or equipment we were never told) we were spared that and just had to chase around over the uneven terrain of Salisbury Plain and try out the effects of gas on the skin. The Drill Instructor’s course was much safer, and the Paymaster’s one was fine although my fellow students did not think so.
I was given charge of news which meant that I invented a “Wall Newspaper” so that everybody could (I thought) catch up with the news easily. What I hadn’t realised in my ignorance of how the rest of the world lived was that a lot of people could not read. Notices with duties were put up daily on a board and those at the back used to ask for them to be read out as they could not see that distance — so I did just that. Later I was to find that it was not because they could not see, but because they could not read for various reasons. The ATS was a great mix-up of people from all walks of life, and all parts of the country. To me, it was a necessary eye-opener.

Then came the opportunity to join the Army Education Corps which was a male-only organisation. I was summoned to a mansion at Luton Hoo, and found that I and eleven others had been accepted as the very first members of the Women’s part of the Army Education Corps. I was sent to Wakefield Prison for a month on a course and met some of the great novelists and musicians of the era. The baths were enormous — about 7 ft. long — so I have always assumed that prison warders were giants. It was sheer luxury to wallow in all that hot water. We listened to lectures, gave practice lectures ourselves, took part in play presentations and worked very hard, but it was fascinating. The Army method of communication on current affairs was through a series of pamphlets called “ABCA” — Army Bureau of Current Affairs. These were a basis for discussions — or that was intended. I went to one unit to talk with a small unit of ATS to find out that I had about 200 men instead so a quick change of plan was needed to try and capture everybody’s attention.

My first posting was to Lincoln where I had the whole of Lincolnshire to myself. I borrowed a gramophone from the local library and a variety of records to do music recitals. I revived my ‘Wall Newspsper’ only this time on a bigger scale with up-to date sheets being sent after my visit. I was kept busy and travelled many miles. Once in a snow storm I was playing the gramophone as I was the only passenger in my carriage and remember a porter’s startled look as ‘Ave Maria’ floated out on the desolate platform. We ran Rehabilitation Courses for ATS being discharged, and this involved Cookery (with an outside instructor) and I did things like drama with a visit to the theatre at Nottingham to see ‘Hobson’s Choice’.

Then somebody became ill so there was a vacancy to fill at a unit for men who could neither read nor write. They had lived in the valleys away from schools, nobody had known of their existence so no school inspectors came knocking at their doors, and some had never had anybody to persevere with solving their problems. As in the Army you do things and ask afterwards, I worked out that the best way to cope with this was to study the rules of football as a common denominator. So we talked about numbers of goals, measurements of pitches and so on; spoke of words associated with the game, and generally used the topic as a link. It was quite a chastening experience for me, and such a useful one.

As I was either at Cambridge or Lincoln where the land is flat, air-fields abounded and so did American airmen . They invited us as a group to some of their parties and we were astounded to see somebody light his cigarette with a ten shilling note. Ten whole shillings and we were earning one shilling and eightpence per day as ATS. Travelling from my home in Essex to Cambridge I met an American and we started chatting. His parents had come from Scotland and emigrated to Canada where his father was an itinerant pastor. Hugh had moved to America south to Seattle, and that was where he had joined up and had been sent to Stanstead where he was to help build the airfield. Quite a sensible posting when you think that he had never done that sort of thing before! We used to meet and he said that he would like to see London so I gave him my home address and said that my sister would take him around and show him the sights. What a success that was as he is now my brother-in-law and the family live in Seattle, USA, which made my sister a G.I. Bride.. She came up to London with my parents and all her luggage on the very day that I was de-mobbed from the ATS and met them in London from Northampton. We waved goodbye, and my parents, my luggage and I returned to Essex.

I have never regretted that time in the ATS where I found out so much about other people — and about myself too. I don’t think that I won the war single-handed, but I must have helped somewhere along the line.

31.5.2005

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