|
 | |  | |
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'.
One of my best buddies in the Wrens, and still one of my dearest friends, was Caroline, a signaller. When my future husband was fighting in Europe, and I used to get despondent about no news, she was a big help in cheering me up. She had arrived at Portkil about a year after I joined the 'Barnites' and we hit it off immediately. To this day, we can laugh and giggle at some of the incidents we were involved in.
We had our share of Wren characters who dropped in and out of life at the Barn, for instance, the plump Irish girl who protested that she was not a Catholic. Not that it mattered in the least to us, but she was most insistent. Until the day, when a gale and thunderstorm (and we used to get some big ones in the wintertime) hit the Nissan hut, knocked out the lights, and broke some power cables outside. 'Holy Mother of God', she shrieked from her cot and began crossing herself vigorously. Everyone else was too upset and frightened at the storm to ever realise what she had done!
There was the prim and prissy lass with a double-barrelled surname. Her father was either an admiral or an arch-bishop. I can't quite remember, but she wanted us to know these facts. She never joined in with our activities and probably didn't approve of our mad behaviour.
Living together in close quarters we did not bother to hide our bodies when undressing or dressing. The admiral's daughter, on the other hand, would sit on the edge of her bed and somehow, managed to disrobe without showing a piece of flesh or underwear. I seem to recall she was engaged, and we all pitied the fiancé.
Another brief resident was a thin, mouse-like signaller from Liverpool. She had an energetic swain, a hospital corps-man from the American community up the hill, and he was determined to seduce her. We learned this from overhearing conversations between her and Helen, another Wren. The latter recommended that she give in and enjoy it. Whether the young woman took our siren's advice, we never did find out.
And who could forget the heavy-set navy girl loudmouthed and sloppy who came to us for a few months. We never did see much of her after work hours. She preferred the company of males and fooled around with as many as she could handle. As expected, we had a name for her and it wasn't a nice one!
But the small nucleus of eight or nine Wrens remained, and it survived. We learned to work and play together with not too many arguments or squabbles. We soon learned the meaning of sharing and compromise. We had an important job to do at the Fort, and ships and men depended on us.
| |  | |  |
To add a comment you must first login or join for free, up in the top left corner.
|
|
