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Home <> Lifestory Library <> Explore By Location <> <> <> The Dating Game In Ww Ii




  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'.

Early on in my stay in Portkil, I met a charming young English radio officer at the village hall. He was from one of the merchant ships anchored in the Firth. He had mistaken me for a girl he had made a date with to meet at the hall. She never showed up, but he came over to ask me to dance, and then realised I was not the missing partner. We must have looked alike!

Brian and I became friends immediately. I was 20 and he was 19, both of us shy and not experienced in the dating game. We corresponded faithfully when his ship sailed away. When he came back to port, we continued to see each other. I even bravely scaled a rope ladder to get on board the merchant vessel.

He introduced me to the captain and some of the other officers. Their destination was often Greenland, and he brought back wonderful pre-war French stockings and lingerie for me. I kept most of the underwear back home and, when I was demobbed, discovered that my younger sisters had purloined most of it.
   
One time, when Brian was away on one of their perilous voyages, I fell for my first American, a sailor from North Carolina. He also did a lot of travelling and was not a good correspondent, although I wrote to him faithfully every day. A tall, blond, Viking type of young man, he was exactly the sort that girls fall for easily.

I can see right now in my mind's eye the first time he kissed me. It was in the moonlight on the front lawn of the Barn. We had been to the movies at the base with some of the other Wrens and sailors. We all went back to the house for a snack, and then I had walked out with my date to say good-bye to him, and it happened. I was admiring the lovely sky and he bent over and kissed me, thoroughly, I must say.
   
My Viking got into quite a bit of trouble with the authorities because he wasn't one to take orders willingly. I am sure he spent some time in the brig at the base. I even implored one of the Navy doctors to find out what had happened to him.

I knew I was facing a losing battle. I was only one of his many girl friends. He often showed me pictures of really gorgeous American beauties in short shorts, or daring for those days, the two-piece swim suit. He finally was posted abroad a ship and I never heard from him again. I still cherish the Navy pin his mother sent me - at his request.
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