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I was conscripted in 1943 and stayed in the W.A.A.F. for three
and a half years. I trained in Gloucester, moving on to Morecambe in Lancashire where we were put through our paces in physical exercise. This, we did on the beach in our pants and vests in the middle of January.
There was about a dozen of us staying in digs and when we arrived there, we were given two slices of bread for our tea. Luckily, we still had the dry buns that we had been given for the journey, so we hungrily ate those.
There was no shortage of fish and chip shops in Morecambe, but there was a desperate shortage of money. I remember having to write home for ten shillings once. We had to be very careful with the bath water too. We had a shallow bath and had to do our washing in this amount also. If the landlady heard the cistern filling up, she would be up the stairs like grease lightning, complaining that we had run off too much water. I don鈥檛 think she had much time for us, as she got more money for looking after the airmen.
I was finally stationed in High Wycombe Bomber Command Headquarters as a waitress in the Officers Mess. We worked very hard there. We had some very happy times though.
We, the waitresses had to take turns to go to another site to supply the Duty Officers with their meals. Underground passages stretched for miles. They were filled with clanging pipes, I suppose for central heating. It was all a bit eerie late at night. Then, when we had finished duty we had to walk back through the woods in the dark to the Officers Mess Staff Quarters.
Sir Arthur (Bomber) Harris lived near by and he plotted his famous raids over Germany whilst I was there. A wonderful party was held in the mess for him. We had a beautiful three tier cake with a silver vase on top and pink carnations in it. The Tiller Girls from London entertained us with their dancing.

There were Prisoners of War employed in the camp, to clean the windows and to do odd jobs. We weren't allowed to fraternise with them. It all seemed silly as none of us could speak their language anyway.
When the war ended, we had another party in the mess. It was very tiring as it was held in the evenings. We had been on duty since 07.30hrs with just a couple of hours break. I was so tired, I fell asleep on the floor of the washing-up area. When I awoke the cleaning had all been done and the kitchen was deserted.
We organised our own celebrations, the day war ended. We went by taxi to the neighbouring villages for a drink, only to find that the pubs were all shut because they had run out of beer.
Mrs. V.B Johnson.
Addlestone, Surrey.

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