Another era, another war
Wren still has her memories of wartime days after posting
to Orkney 60 years ago
By Jean Alford
(From The Orcadian dated March 27, 2002)

Jean Alford during her wartime service as a Wren - which brought her to Orkney and HMS Sparrowhawk.

It was early February in 1943. I had just joined the WRNS, and after training at Mill Hill in London, and then at New College in Finchley Road, London, where it was decided that I would be a Writer. I was able to sew a little badge on my arm with a “W” on it.

The Germans were bombing London. I was part of a stirrup pump party and was assigned to the flat roof of the college. For about five nights the Germans came and dropped their bombs and incendiary bombs. When one of these hit the roof it would immediately burst into flames and so the stirrup pump party had to put these horrible little things out. After the five nights of bombing, we were informed that we would be told where we would be drafted the next day.

We fell into our beds absolutely exhausted – it was about 4am – most of us wondering where we would be sent.

That night I prayed and prayed that God would help me to be drafted as far away from London as possible.

Prayers answered

The next day we assembled and there were batches of Wrens drafted to Plymouth, Portsmouth, Cardiff, Glasgow, Rosyth and so on. Then my name came up and the Wren Officer said to me “You are going to HMS Sparrowhawk.”

I timidly asked her “Where is that, Ma’am?” and she said Scapa Flow. I must say, I did say a big thankyou to God for answering my prayer.

I was to be transported there as soon as possible. In fact it was to be the very next day. At 6am a truck took me to Euston in order for me to catch the naval train known as the Jellicoe express. I was given meal tickets which I traded in for three bags containing sandwiches and buns.

There was a carriage reserved for women only. Imagine my surprise to find I was the only girl. I was to be in a carriage consisting of six compartments . . . locked at each end. Now I really felt I was in the navy.

The sailors walking past . . . shouting “Hello Jenny” . . . the journey began. Still no sign of another Wren; so on we went. I had eaten one of my bags of sandwiches and felt quite cold in the unheated train.

Then wonder of wonders, the train stopped at Crewe, where there was a Forces canteen run by volunteer ladies from various Church organisations. Hot tea and cocoa and scones. I stayed on the train and several sailors offered to get me tea and sandwiches. We were all mates and I felt proud to be one of them. The other stops were Perth, Inverness and finally Thurso. It was a long and cold journey.

Raging gale

I slept with my greatcoat over me. Not used to a collar with studs, the back of my neck was sore and itchy. At last, Thurso. Because of bad weather . . . it was a raging gale . . . I was put up in the WRNS Transit mess where I had a good night’s sleep. When undressing, I discovered that my back stud was in the wrong way and the knobbly bit had been causing the soreness. The next day I was transported to Scrabster dock where the boat the St Ola was ready to sail, although there was still a gale and the sea looked rough.

The Pentland Firth was known to be the worst sea crossing in the world. The St Ola tossed around like a matchstick. Then there was an air raid warning and it was announced that we all had to go below decks and lie down on the deck. I was terrified but tried to look brave. About an hour later the Captain sounded the “All Clear,” but I stayed where I was as the boat was rolling around and the seas tossed us up and down.

At last, about another hour later, the St Ola arrived at Stromness. What a journey! At Stromness I joined some sailors who were going off to different naval stations in Orkney. I was going to HMS Sparrowhawk. A naval truck picked us all up and I was on my way. I was dropped off at the Wrennery in Hatston. I was shown to my quarters.

Happy character

It was a Nissen hut with 24 beds. Eventually it filled up with Wrens who were very friendly and two of them showed me where the bathrooms were and where the washing was done etc. The next day I was told that I would be interviewed by the Warrant Writer in the Pay Office as they had said they needed a Wren.

The Warrant Officer was a jolly, grey haired, happy character and I immediately felt at home. His clerk was a Leading Writer and had been a bank clerk. He, too, was friendly. The Warrant Writer was known as Mr May and the Leading Writer was Mr Gant. The office was in a house known as Scott’s House, an attractive, flat roofed house right on the seashore. Sometimes the odd seal would appear on the shore. So here I was in my new home where I would be for nearly two years.

I loved my job. Mr May did Officers’ Pay and Civilian Pay. My desk was just inside the door of the office, so I could see everyone who came in.

The Wrennery was just outside the base, a ten minute walk away. The weather could be pretty awful in the winter – also it was very dark.

Weekly pay

However, I found that Kirkwall was a lovely quaint town with its magnificent St Magnus Cathedral. I made several friends: but two close friends – Joan was in the Link Trainer; Shelagh worked for the Chief Medical Officer. We were often invited on to the ships in Scapa Flow. HMS Sparrowhawk was a Fleet Air Arm base.

Every week civilians called in for their weekly pay and I got to know who they were and what they did. One day an electrician called in and he asked me if I would like to have tea with him and his wife. I couldn’t think of anything nicer; so I accepted. He gave me his address and we arranged a Saturday afternoon.

His name was Bill Kelday and his wife’s name was Ethel. How very kind they were to me.

Ethel was a cleaner at the Bank of Scotland and lived in a flat above the bank in Laing Street, Kirkwall. It was a wonderful friendship. I had not come from a very happy family and so Ethel and Bill became like foster parents.

On my days off I would go to Ethel’s and she would wash my hair and rub ointment on my chilblains. I would take my boyfriends to visit them so that Bill and Ethel would say whether they approved or not.

When my leave came up, I really didn’t want to go home, so Ethel said I could go over to her parents in Stronsay . . . Peter and Rebecca Miller. I will never forget getting the ferry, the Earl Sigurd, over to Stronsay. It called in at the islands picking up sheep and delivering sheep as well as other passengers.

We arrived at Stronsay and I was met by Ethel’s brother-in-law Izat Hourston. He recognised me by my Wren uniform and he always said he also knew it was me because I was wearing lipstick.

Pony and trap

He had a little pony and trap and I climbed in beside him so he could take me to Mount Pleasant . . . Peter and Rebecca’s house. Waiting for me were Peter and Rebecca. They greeted me warmly, also Izat’s wife, Ethel’s sister Harriet. For the next couple of weeks living with them was magical. Peter took me out to pick up the lobster creels, and he taught me to shoot rabbits and to fish.

The fish we caught were strung up on the kitchen ceiling to dry out and then would be eaten. They were very salty. Rebecca and Ethel let me help them with the cooking. I hadn’t a clue how to cook. They made a clootie dumpling, a huge round pudding tied up in a cloth. It was delicious; also home made scones, biscuits, buns and cakes. It was another world.

One day I went to a social gathering and there was an accordionist and a fiddler. I think it was in a Church Hall. There I danced with John Dennison who later ran the Ayre Hotel in Kirkwall. What a time I had. I will never forget that holiday and how kind everyone was to me. Years later I met John and his wife when on a visit to Ethel and Bill. My visit to Stronsay and meeting the Millers and the Hourstons will always be one of my very special memories.

After my leave I continued to go to Ethel and Bill’s whenever I could.

Camp concerts

General Montgomery (centre) is pictured on a visit to Orkney during World War Two. On the right is Captain Gowland, of HMS Sparrowhawk.

Also there were camp concerts and sometimes I helped Donald Hewlett type out his script, as he used to write the scenes and songs etc.

Donald started the Arts Club which was in the Temperance Hall, Mill Street. It had been the Naval Cinema. Years later I met up with Donald when he was in a show in London called “Grab me a Gondola.” Also, of course, he was in the TV show called “It Ain’t Half Hot Mum.”

On days off when it was fairly fine weather I went cycling, usually with Shelagh or Joan. One day we rode into the country and came across Berstane House. There was a young girl hanging out some washing at the back of the house and she very kindly asked us in for tea.

Her name was Elsie Yorston. She was the housekeeper to Sheriff Brown who was the resident of Berstane House. I became friendly with Elsie and on a couple of occasions Sheriff Brown asked us in to have tea with him in his lovely drawing room. Years later I visited Elsie in Kirkwall. She married a Mr Wood and was then a widow; but we remained in contact until she died a couple of years ago.

My years in Kirkwall will always be treasured memories — visiting Leonard’s Book Shop as often as I could, buying pyjamas and underwear from George Rendall and Co, in Albert Street, visiting the Church of Scotland canteen and being introduced to baked beans on fried bread.

Extra portion

We always tried to help the lady serving in the canteen with the washing up and she always thanked us with an extra portion of baked beans. Sometimes on a Sunday evening, Shelagh and I would go to the church service at the Salvation Army in Bridge Street Wynd.

After the service we would be invited to have supper, which was very kind of them. However, on a couple of occasions the service was running late and by the time we battled the Ayre Road with rain lashing down and waves blowing over us from the sea, we arrived late at the Wrennery Regulating Office like a couple of drowned rats.

The consequence for being ten minutes late meant we had to forfeit our Sunday night passes for two weeks.

Another memory was Trafalgar Day. The Wrens would assemble in Bignold Park along with sailors and we would march through Kirkwall to the sound of bagpipes played by the band of the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders. I felt so proud of being one of the Wrens chosen to be in the parade. I still have a lump in my throat thinking about it.

Aircraft in night

I can remember the Swordfish aircraft (we called then stringbags) flying off in the night and also Barracudas, wondering where they were going. Sometimes hunting enemy shipping, sometimes on duty defending Russian convoys. I remember that a young friend of mine crashed into Wideford Hill before landing and he was killed. His name was Geoff Matthew.

Another sad occasion was when the American carrier called the USS Ranger was in the Flow. Wrens were invited on board and I met a nice young man called Bob Bierer from Nebraska. He would meet me on the base to go to the cinema. All our friendships were entirely innocent.

One day when Bob was to meet me outside the cinema one of his friends met me instead. His name was Chuck Hendricks. He told me that Bob had crashed his plane and had been killed. I thought of his family in America.

There were very many more sad occasions.

I left the WRNS and joined the Foreign Office just after the end of the war. I wrote often to Bill and Ethel.

I went to Germany and met my husband, David. I took him up to meet Ethel and Bill and they heartily approved. We then went to West Africa and I still kept in touch with the Keldays. Then, in the 60s, we went to Kirkwall to see Ethel and Bill. They were now living at 1 East Road.

Wonderful reunion

It was a wonderful reunion and we talked and talked for days. We met Ethel and Bill’s neighbours, Bobby and Gladys Leslie and their two little boys, Robert and Drew.

After our spell in West Africa – ten years – we had a few years in Cheshire. Then David decided to start up an aluminium factory in Scotland. By this time, our children were away at colleges and because I was on my own a lot I was able to fly up to Kirkwall from Glasgow and could stay with the Keldays quite often.

Sadly, Bill became ill and he passed away peacefully. I was able to visit Ethel very often during this sad time.

A few years later Ethel was not as strong as she was so she had a home help – a lovely young girl called Mary Scollie. Not long later dear Ethel had a heart attack and died. I missed Ethel and Bill so much – they were my adopted family.

I still keep in touch with Mary Scollie and the Leslies. They help to keep my memories alive. Wonderful memories and whenever I feel like day-dreaming, I am back in Hatston, Scott’s House, walking down Broad Street, and East Road . . . being with my dear Ethel and Bill.