The Girls in Blue

by Fenella J Miller

  ‘Then let’s do it. Leave here in style.’

  *

  The concierge hailed the cab. It rolled to a halt beside them. It was massive, had a hood at the back similar to the one on a perambulator. The space for the cases was beside the driver and they shoved them in.

  ‘Where to, ladies?’

  ‘The Air Ministry, on Kingsway, please,’ Charlotte said.

  ‘Righty ho. Hop in then. Give the door a good slam.’

  The cab driver squeezed his horn, waved his arm out of the window, and the vehicle lurched off.

  ‘I hope our luggage doesn’t fly out as the space hasn’t got a door,’ Jane said as she slid across the shiny seat and cannoned into her friend.

  They were giggling as they untangled themselves. ‘You need to hang on to the strap by the door, Jane.’

  They rattled and banged the short distance and jumped out outside the Air Ministry. After grabbing their cases, they joined the flow of other girls heading the same way.

  ‘Golly, it’s busy out here,’ she said as she dodged a couple of RAF lorries. ‘Look, that’s piled up with suitcases. Shall we go in?’

  The building seemed to be full of efficient RAF and WAAF people rushing about giving orders. ‘Look, over there, it’s Nancy waving at us,’ Charlotte said.

  They hurried across to join the huddle of apprehensive-looking recruits. At least the three of them were happy to be there even though a lot of others looked as if they already regretted their decision.

  ‘Goodness, it’s packed in here. We seem to be in the way,’ she said as she reached Nancy.

  Charlotte looked around. ‘Some of them are actually in tears. Why on earth did they volunteer if they’re so worried about leaving home?’

  ‘I expect that they want to do their bit, like us really,’ she said. ‘I think that sergeant’s looking in our direction.’

  The man beckoned her over. ‘Name?’

  ‘Miss Jane Hadley.’

  He ticked her off the list. She was about to return to her friends when he glared at her. ‘When you address me, miss, you answer “yes, Sergeant”. Is that clear?’

  ‘Yes, Sergeant, perfectly clear.’ She was proud her voice didn’t betray her nervousness.

  ‘Right, onto the lorry.’

  Helplessly she looked behind in the hope that her two friends were called next but they were still in the huddle. She daren’t refuse or argue with this formidable sergeant so she meekly clambered into the waiting vehicle.

  There wasn’t room for anyone else – the canvas flaps at the back were dropped and the vehicle lurched away. Only then did she remember her suitcase remained in the dispersal area. With any luck Charlotte or Nancy would bring it with them.

  In the gloom she couldn’t see the other girls perched on the benches that ran down either side of the lorry. She was on the very end so in the event of an accident would be pitched headfirst through the canvas door.

  Someone with an extremely loud voice spoke from the driver’s end. ‘Anyone know where we’re going?’

  ‘King’s Cross station, I thought everybody knew that.’

  Someone answered. ‘Thank you for telling us, whoever that is up there.’

  The aggressive speaker continued. ‘We’re going to Harrogate for our initial training. I don’t expect everyone in here will survive that.’

  Jane kept silent. There was always somebody, a bossy boots, who wanted to dominate a group. She wasn’t going to get involved so pressed herself against the side and prayed she wouldn’t fall off the bench.

  They arrived at King’s Cross, which looked grey and unfriendly. She really wanted to travel with Nancy and Charlotte so whilst everyone else was headed towards the platform she slipped away and into the ladies’ waiting room. She couldn’t have done this if she was in uniform, but she was pretty sure no one would know she was supposed to be getting on the train.

  She just had to hope the rest of the girls would also be sent to King’s Cross otherwise she was going to be in trouble. Less than fifteen minutes later a second wave of would-be WAAF recruits arrived. Thank goodness – Charlotte and Nancy were amongst them. Nancy was carrying two suitcases so had obviously remembered to bring hers along.

  She raced across the concourse and slid in behind them. ‘We’re going to Harrogate on that train – did you know that?’

  ‘Jane, we was right worried about you. Glad you waited for us,’ Nancy said as she handed over the case.

  ‘Jolly good show. Harrogate is miles away – it’s going to be a long day. We didn’t have the foggiest,’ Charlotte said.

  ‘Thank you for bringing my case, Nancy. None of that first lot of girls had anything with them so their cases must have gone in the luggage van or something.’

  They trooped onto the train and had barely time to find a seat before the guard waved his flag, blew his whistle and the train steamed out of the station.

  4

  Eventually they disembarked at Harrogate. It had been dark for an hour and the blackout was in full force. As they’d got on the train last, the three of them were obliged to join the end of the shuffling queue of girls.

  There was no chatter, just silence, as they stumbled through the darkness with only the occasional flicker of torchlight to stop them tumbling onto the railway track. This wasn’t how she’d expected things to be. Jane felt miserable.

  ‘This way, ladies, your chariots await,’ a cheerful soldier could be heard yelling.

  There were three lorries similar to the ones that had delivered them to King’s Cross earlier in the day. Nancy was too short to get over the tailgate and Jane and Charlotte had to lift her in. This broke the ice a little and those nearest, who’d watched the struggle, were giggling too.

  ‘Love a duck, I ain’t doing that again, I reckon them soldiers got a good view of me knickers.’ Nancy’s indignant comment caused a further wave of giggling. Maybe the others were just tired and not really miserable at all.

  Despite Jane pressing her feet firmly into the floor of the lorry, twice her bottom slipped and she ended on the floor. Several others found themselves in a similar predicament and it was hard to be anxious when one was laughing so much.

  After half an hour the lorry turned sharply to the right and this time everyone was tossed into the middle. By the time they’d untangled themselves and found another place on the narrow benches they were all laughing and talking as if old friends.

  They tumbled out of the lorries and were directed into a massive Victorian building. The strident tones of the bossy boots echoed down the line. ‘This is the Majestic Hotel; we’re going to be billeted here whilst we train.’

  How on earth did this girl know these things? It was hard to see anything apart from its size in the dark but once they were safely in the main foyer Jane had time to look around.

  ‘This must have been a very grand place before the RAF took it over. There are no carpets, pictures or elegant furniture – just what looks like standard service fittings.’ Charlotte pointed at the carved woodwork and fine ceilings. ‘At least we can admire this and imagine what it must have been like to be a guest here before the war.’

  Nancy, the least confident of the three of them, was standing between her and Charlotte looking around nervously. ‘I ain’t sure I’ll fit in here. I ain’t used to all these goings-on and that.’

  ‘You’ll be fine – you’ve got us,’ Charlotte said reassuringly.

  The three lorry loads of recruits had divided into dispirited groups waiting to be told what to do. Everywhere Jane looked there were people in RAF and WAAF uniforms looking frighteningly efficient. Would the three of them ever walk about with such confidence?

  ‘Look, there’s some non-commissioned officers heading this way and they look friendly – at least they’re smiling.’ Jane automatically straightened and the other two did the same.

  One of the smartly dressed young women headed in their direction. ‘You must be exhausted, chilled to the bone and starving. I’l
l take you to the mess hall. I’m sure you’ll feel much better when you’ve had something to eat and a nice cup of tea.’ She gestured towards the benches that ran alongside the walls. ‘Put your coats and things on there and you can collect them on the way back.’

  There was already a queue of eager young women in front of them and they joined the end of it. She was asked if she wanted tea with or without and she said no sugar, but when she took a sip it was sickeningly sweet.

  Clutching her mug, she moved along and was handed the biggest plate of food she’d ever seen in her life. Charlotte tried to stop the eager server from giving her so much but Nancy was happy with the mountain of food. They found a table with enough seats for the three of them and sat down hastily before they could be occupied by someone else.

  ‘I’ll never get through all this. There’s enough potatoes and mushy peas to feed half a dozen.’ Then she spotted two sausages under the mound. ‘Good grief – the poor things look as if they’re drowning in all that green liquid.’

  Her friends laughed and tucked in with gusto. To her astonishment despite the unappetising appearance of the food it was perfectly edible and a jolly sight better than the food she’d had at boarding school.

  Halfway through she abandoned the meal. ‘I can’t eat any more. I don’t have a big appetite.’

  ‘You’re too skinny by ’alf, my girl. I reckon you’d be a bit of all right with some meat on yer bones.’

  ‘We haven’t eaten since breakfast and that was hours ago – heaven knows when we’ll be fed again. Try and eat some more. There’s a war on so we shouldn’t waste food.’

  ‘You sound like Matron, Charlotte. I’m going to upset you even more as I can’t drink this tea either because it’s got sugar in it. It’ll make me sick if I do.’

  Nancy immediately swapped the mugs. ‘You ’ave mine – there ain’t none in this.’ She stood up and nodded towards the servery. ‘There’s afters. I’m going to get some.’

  To her surprise Charlotte also stood up. ‘I’ll get you some as well; if you don’t want it then I’m sure someone else will be glad to have it. I’ll take your plate with mine and with any luck no one will notice how much you didn’t eat.’

  Her dessert was happily passed down the table – it looked like spotted dick and custard – not something she was fond of so she was happy to give it away. The friendly NCO who’d brought them to the dining room – she supposed she must get used to calling it the mess hall from now on – was waiting expectantly at the far side of the room.

  ‘We better go – she’ll ’ave our guts for garters if we ain’t sharpish.’

  Nancy was right. It didn’t do to keep those in authority waiting. She was on her feet, empty mug in her hand, before anyone else was up. She walked fast to the box into which they had to put their used items and dropped hers in.

  The others weren’t far behind her and once the waiting NCO had all five from the table in a neat line, they were led to the second floor and into a room with five iron bedsteads. ‘Good night, ladies, lights out in fifteen minutes. The bathroom and WC are at the end of the passage.’

  There was a pile of bedding in the centre and none of it looked very comfy. The sheets were stiff and unpleasant and the grey blankets little better. The worst of the items was the pillow, which had no give in it at all. She wasn’t going to sleep a wink in such an uncomfortable bed.

  Jane was woken by a deafening clatter and all but fell out of bed.

  ‘Bloody ’ell, what the devil’s that?’

  ‘I think it’s telling us to get up, Nancy. If we want to use the bathroom we’d better get a move on as we have to share it with at least five other dormitories,’ Charlotte said as she snatched up her toilet bag and ran for the door in her nightie.

  Jane was close behind her but Nancy and the other two girls, Joan and Nora, remained in bed. Presumably an extra few minutes was preferable to first use of the facilities.

  It was definitely a lick and a promise – there were others clamouring behind her. Her bare feet were icy and she was shivering when she dashed back. She skidded to a halt so suddenly Charlotte cannoned into her sending her sprawling.

  ‘Good morning, that was a spectacular entrance.’ The NCO laughed and offered her hand to help her up. Nora was in her knickers and vest; Joan was just rolling up her stockings but miraculously Nancy was fully clothed and looking rather smug about it.

  ‘Right, now I have your attention, I want you to watch me very carefully whilst I show you how to make a bed in the correct WAAF fashion.’

  Jane watched in amazement as the complicated procedure was revealed to her. It wasn’t called ‘stacking a bed’ in the RAF for nothing. It had to be carried out perfectly, everything in the right place including the mattress, which Jane now found out were called ‘biscuits’.

  Small wonder she’d been so uncomfortable as, like the others, she just pulled the pile apart in a random fashion and then tried to find herself a comfortable spot.

  ‘I give you due warning, an improperly stacked bed will not be tolerated. You will have to do it again and could be put on a charge if it happens a second time. Now, as you’re the only one dressed, would you like to demonstrate how it’s done with your own bedding?’ The NCO pointed at Nancy.

  Her friend might not be able to read and write fluently but she’d obviously had no difficulty following the complicated arrangement as within a few minutes her bed was perfectly stacked.

  ‘Well done. After breakfast you will be taken for “kitting out”.’ The NCO nodded, told them they were expected downstairs for breakfast in fifteen minutes, and then marched out.

  Jane was at a loss as to how to fold the sheets and blankets in the correct manner but Nancy demonstrated again and they all followed her instructions and in the allotted time were ready to go down.

  There was lumpy porridge for breakfast, which she ignored, but as much toast, margarine and marmalade as she wanted. This time they poured out their own tea, which was preferable. They had been almost last to eat yesterday and today they were amongst the first. Heaven knows what the porridge would be like by the time the stragglers arrived.

  ‘That NCO’s hovering by the door; I think we’d better hurry up. I’m not sure what being put on a charge actually means, but I certainly don’t want to find out,’ Jane said with a nervous smile.

  Her fingers were sticky and what she really wanted was to find a washroom but didn’t dare to be late. Obedience was ingrained in her and she thought she was going to find it somewhat easier following orders than some of the others. Communal living might also prove problematic to those girls not used to it, but as Nancy had lived in cramped surroundings, and she and Charlotte had been at boarding school most of their lives, they wouldn’t have the same difficulty adjusting.

  So far all that Nora had told her was that she’d been a secretary and was going to ask to be in admin. Joan hadn’t spoken at all and was constantly dabbing her eyes.

  There were half a dozen other girls already waiting in line. A jolly, middle-aged RAF flight sergeant was in charge of handing out the uniforms. He didn’t ask for their measurements, weight or height, but ran his expert eye up and down before calling to his minions what size they should be given.

  ‘Thirty-six for you, miss.’ He handed her over a large pile of clothing and she carried it to the far side of the room where it seemed they were to change behind a row of screens. Although she’d been warned that everything, including underwear, was supplied she was shocked to think they had to strip in so public a place.

  ‘What a palaver. I ain’t never ’ad so much of me own in me life,’ Nancy said as she dumped her pile on the bench next to Jane.

  Charlotte arrived next. She held up the bra, which was made of thick, coarse, pink cotton with straps the width of a man’s belt. ‘Good heavens, this is the most unglamorous article of clothing I’ve ever seen. Look at the hooks at the back – I can’t see them giving way.’

  Jane held up the enormous n
avy blue, knee-length knickers. ‘At least we won’t be cold in our nether regions wearing these.’ No sooner had she spoken than her stomach clenched. She wasn’t allowed to say such risqué things – that man would punish her.

  ‘Are you all right, Jane? You’ve gone white as a sheet,’ Charlotte asked anxiously.

  ‘Sorry, bad memories. We’d better get a move on before there’s no room behind the screens.’

  Despite the lack of privacy, she and Charlotte stripped off without a second thought – it was Nancy who kept her back turned and fiddled about under her skirt to remove and replace her knickers.

  ‘These grey lisle stockings are hardly glamorous either, but the black Oxfords are really comfortable.’ She laced these up and then stood up to admire herself in the full-length mirror thoughtfully provided.

  ‘Not a bad fit considering, but the skirt’s a bit short and so are the sleeves of the jacket.’

  Charlotte smiled. ‘I think we both look absolutely splendid. I prefer your hair in a roll at the back of your head.’

  Nancy arrived beside them. ‘Oh my Gawd – I look like a bleedin’ orphan in this rig.’

  ‘We can turn the hem and the sleeves up so it fits properly. It’s not baggy, just far too long,’ Jane said with a smile.

  ‘I’m a bleedin’ seamstress – I were panicking – I can do it meself.’

  ‘Let’s go back to our room and do it now. It’s going to take an hour or more for everybody to get kitted out so I don’t suppose we’ll be missed.’

  Not only did they have their spare uniform and their civvy clothes to carry, they also had an overcoat, a groundsheet with a hole in it, which was for wearing in the wet, and a tin hat.

  ‘Do they expect us to get all this in that kitbag?’

  ‘That’s what everyone else is doing, Charlotte, so we’d better do the same.’

  Once it was full it was too heavy to carry so, with some difficulty, they dragged the bag with one hand and carried their old clothes and tin hat with the other. Bumping them up the stairs was hilarious and Jane was surprised no NCO appeared to reprimand them.