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I enlisted on 13/10/42. My husband was already in the army. Sadly, I lost him last year after being married for 62 years. I am 80 years of age on Valentines Day, so bear with me if I do not quite get everything down clearly.

I was working at a biscuit shop on East Street in Derby. I left Derby for Pontefract in Yorkshire for basic training. We did all the square bashing as we called it and had all sorts of infections. We had to march and work no matter how ill we felt. We were then sorted out as to what we wanted to go into and they asked who would be willing to go into the search light sites around London. We were told that unlike the search light girls on the gun sites, we would be on our own. This was to release the men on the sites to serve abroad. So I went for that. We were sent off to Kimmel Park Camp in Wales for training. After training we were then split up and sent down to various sites around London.

From then on life was far from comfortable. I started off in Staines. I went to various sites which I can鈥檛 remember all the names of. Eventually I ended up with two stripes and was sent to Windsor Great Park. We used to set up the equipment for the night no the round tower of Windsor Castle. By now things were really harsh. London was in the thick of it. We were trained to pick up enemy planes and get the beam of light on them by radar. Each girl was trained for a certain job to do on the search lights. As a N.C.O you had to be able to take over any job when it was needed. At one time we were put on dusk till dawn and had to sleep in the day. Having no male counterparts with us, we had to know how to fix any faults. The dusk till dawn period seemed to go on forever. No leave, no 24 hours off.

When the call came through, you just grabbed your coat with hood, pulled your boots on, got your tin hat and you just dashed right down to the search light. You had only pyjamas on, so you got the rest on as you went. We had to get everything going by five minutes and into action. It was in all weathers at times too.

In spite of all the hardships, we had fun in between raids. There were bits of drama too. We all took turns on cooking and cleaning the huts we lived in. Some jobs were not nice, but it had to be done. After the dusk till dawn episodes we used to get leave and sometimes 24 hour passes, that鈥檚 when friends went up to London. I was there the first night of the doodle bugs. By then I was a Sgt, and moved to Swakeley House at Uxbridge to the site there at Headquarters.

One thing you had to take part in as an N.C.O. was on the catwalk. This was a platform built around the chimneys of an old manor house, not a pleasant thing at all. Then as the doodle bugs really started there wasn鈥檛 much we could do, only track them with the search lights. We were eventually disbanded. We were then just waiting for the war to end. We were put on decorating inside houses, what for we didn鈥檛 have a clue, they were all empty. By now my husband was demobbed, so I threw my stripes in and came to Derby. Time was spent kitting out men for demob. But at least I was home every night. Then came the great day I was sent to Yorkshire for demob myself.

One thing I remember very much was the night the German Planes scattered strips of silver paper out to send our radar off beat.

Another was when we had two minutes to get down the field and get the beam and keep it going lowering crippled plane back to the aerodromes. One night after we had brought a plane in, we were thanked over the R.T radio from Mr Churchill. We had brought his plane in. On another day a doodle bug came down in two fields away from us.

The girls on the gun sites have often been mentioned but never have the girls who did it all by themselves. There were many funny incidents but I can鈥檛 remember that much except one in particular. We were in a place with loads of earwigs and used to go to bed at night with cotton wool stuck in our ears. We did look funny with the wool sticking out.

This story has been submitted by Alison Tebbutt, Derby CSV Action Desk, on behalf of Mrs Jean Bricknell. The author has given her permission and fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

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