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  Contributor: Patricia FarleyView/Add comments



Patricia Bridgen Farley was a Wren (Womens Royal Naval Service) stationed at Portkil, Near Kilcreggan, Scotland during World War II, living in a house affectionately known to the group of Wrens that were based there as 'The Barn'. The Wrens came to be known as the 'Barnites'.

The day following my arrival at Clarendon House, I walked down to the pier with my luggage and waited for a naval rating to bring one of the base's launches up to the landing steps. The boat had been requisitioned for the war period from some wealthy owner, and was in use continuously. This time I was the cargo to be delivered to Portkil - along with even more important cargo the week's food for the Wren contingent.
   
I was somewhat apprehensive, sitting in the sleek launch, thinking I was soon to discover the mystery surrounding 'degaussing', and also would soon meet the rest of the Wren crew. A naval lieutenant, in a smart uniform, had jumped aboard and was now giving orders for the motor launch to get going. We were off! I was a sea-going Wren!
   
The Journey took about twenty minutes. We went around the entrance to the Gareloch and Lt. Green, the officer in charge, began to explain the scenery to me. Roseneath, with its grey buildings, jeeps and sailors milling around was run by the U.S. Navy.
   
Lt. Green then told me that Kilcreggan and Portkil were located on a spit of land between the Gareloch and Loch Long. 'Portkil Point is about two miles from the village,' he added 'and we're going to lay anchor offshore. You'll have to get into our dinghy and David will row you to the jetty.'
   
I could see a concrete slab jutting out into the water, with two young women waiting there. I assumed they were Wrens, although dressed in heavy sweaters and dark slacks.

Happily, I didn't disgrace my new service or my family by falling overboard but it certainly was a precarious ride for me, clutching onto my luggage, and trying to make sure the food packages didn't slip around too much in the bottom of the dinghy. I was certainly not enamoured of the slab of liver, wrapped in brown paper, sitting on top of the entire rations.
   
The launch crew retrieved the dinghy, and the young sailor jumped aboard, and they were off once more to Helensburgh. I was on dry land, ready for my life in the Royal Navy!
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