The Freedom Years

Five baby Wren Air Engineering Mechanics arrived in a sunny little place called Lee on the Solent on a Sunday afternoon in early July after five weeks basic training at HMS Dauntless .  That would be Pam Walker from Norton in Teesside, Mo McCleave from Scunthorpe, Arlene Cook from Devon,  Karen Oversby from London and of course little old me from the sticks in Lancashire. Me, Cookie, Karen, Mo (hat), Pam. Pam, Mo and I were already good friends, finding we had a lot in common, humour, northern, confident and looking for fun and adventure amongst others. Arlene was very quiet and kept herself to herself a little and Karen, who supposedly had a rich boyfriend with a flash car and couldn't wait to go home to see him, was not at all interested in tagging along with us.  As it happened she only lasted a couple of weeks at Daedalus before mysteriously 'leaving'.  It was pretty obvious even to us that she wasn't cut out for Navy life. So after getting ins...

"Its not like there's a war going on" Thats what my Mum said when I announced I wanted to join the Navy. The fact that I wasn't likely to get killed, sealed their approval and signature on the form from the RN Careers Office. However, less than a year later, ten months to be precise, we went to war with the 'Argies' in the South Atlantic all because of a small cluster of Islands called The Falklands. The months that followed the announcement on 2nd April 1982 are some of the most vivid memories of my life. Events and emotions, deeply engraved in my heart, never to be forgotten. I apologise now if my account isn't 100% accurate, but it was 30 years ago and my memory isn't what it was, but please feel free to correct me. I also want to point out that this is simply an account of my life at that time and not a political agenda, so please no comments on sovereignty or other political opinions. Thanks. I was based at RNAS Culdrose at the time,  working on...

If nothing else, being in the RN made me an excellent laundress. Mum had prepared me as well as she could by getting me to polish my school shoes and do a bit of ironing when forced to, but that was nothing compared to what was required for naval kit. The photo above is of one of my kit musters.  These were done frequently during training and occasionally (purely as an inconvenience) when not.  A kit muster involved washing, ironing and folding all items you were supposed to have into a 'book sized' rectangle.  This was supposedly the exact size of a ships locker, and meant kit was kept clean and neat in a confined space.  All well and good in a ship's mess, but not really necessary as a Wren with no chance whatsoever of going to sea.  However... Before my bunk had been warmed, I was up to my elbows in soap suds and shoe polish.  The very first night was spent washing and ironing shirts and collars - they were not attached! followed by sitting with a fluffy...

After completing all the necessary application procedures, including an aptitude test which surprisingly identified a hidden talent for technical things, my plan to join up as a MT Driver (because I would get to take my driving test)went out the window when the Chief Petty Officer decided the WRNS needed me as an Aircraft Engineering Mechanic - or WAEM as we were known. Have to admit it had a lovely ring to it when I went home to tell my parents and friends what I was going to be doing. "Hello, what do you do for a living?" "Oh I'm a Naval Aircraft Engineering Mechanic" See what I mean? Especially when you're a seventeen year old blonde girl! Then it all went pear shaped. I received a letter telling me I had passed the recruitment process for WAEM but unfortunately there were no places available at present and if in 6 months time I still wished to continue then I should contact the careers office. My world crashed. I was terribly disappointed. I'd expect...