vera-everitt-writing

A Day in The Life of a WREN

Vera added: “L/WREN to be exact. Circa 1943” (Leading WREN — Women’s Royal Naval Service). Vera would have been aged 19-20.

Portrait of Vera as a WREN (by H E Smith, Portsmouth)

Wake up, Breakfast

Awakened from deep sleep at 0700, by Wren from cabin going on duty, who yells in ear “Hey, it’s 7 o’clock”, grunt, and turn over – half-an-hour later, suddenly woken with ‘getting-up!’ sounds outside — splashing, running, shouting, then silence — suddenly realise lateness of hour, spring (or rather crawl) out of bed — has been raining during night, so have to paddle about trying to miss pools on floor, call other occupant of cabin, Elsie, and go and wash — turn hot tap on, steaming hot water comes out, put plug in, and turn cold tap on, nothing happens, so stand and wait, still nothing happens, realise have forgotten towel, go back to cabin for it, come out and find cold tap gushing away, turn off quickly but find that it has made water in basin cold — turn hot tap on, peculiar noises issue from tap’s innards, but no water. Wash in cold water in despair.

Come back after washing to discover Elsie still in bed, tell her it’s eight o’clock (a mere guess on my part, which I hope is wrong) says she can’t get up, but does after thinking it over. Dress and go downstairs, get breakfast, though through being late, takes twice as long, because we have to hunt around looking for bread, ask at various tables if they mind us having some, either get greeted with stony silence, (or weak ‘no’s) take it anyway, have to wait for tea, go to look for our butter jar while waiting, find it at back of cupboard where it wasn’t put the night before, sit down with sigh after having procured it — tea comes, scramble for some, sit down again, discover haven’t any knives or forks, go and wash some, come back, sit down for last time.

Getting ready for work

Finally, finish breakfast, rush upstairs, clean teeth, make face up, try to get in bathroom — impossible, so decide it’s not worth waiting for. Put trouser legs in socks for cycling, start putting scarf on head, over hat (strictly against rules) but someone walks along corridor at wrong moment, door happens to be ajar, also at wrong moment, and I get a blast for putting scarf on head — abashed, go downstairs, give station card in, and go out to find cycle, after getting mixed up in about a dozen of them, finally find mine right at back — pull, push, kick, heave — joy at last, cycle is out, slightly the worse for wear — put lights on, rear one immediately goes out, put it on again, get on cycle, front one goes out — touch it, and it comes on again (I have to keep doing this every time I ride over a lump).

It’s very cold and very foggy — try to ride down drive, but drive is full of ruts, owing to mud, cycles and frost, and after nearly coming off about six times, decide discretion the better part of valour, and walk rest of drive, which makes me later than I already am. Cycle up a long hill, no three speed, so am very hot by the tine I reach top, come to fork in road, say goodbye to Elsie and cycle up next hill, get in about 8.45 — try to look unconcerned when asked about time, petty officer says I’m late, he knows what time I came in because he was behind me — decides he can’t do anything about it on those grounds, so make up mind to be early in future.

In the Store

Go into Store, no-one else has lit fire, so light it myself with aid of paper and paraffin, finally succeed in exciting spark of life in it, have to watch it carefully, it is inclined to go out suddenly without giving notice. Try to keep warm by sweeping concrete floor of store, fetch water from static water tank across the road for laying dust, nearly drown myself in attempt, laughter from men, they don’t help me, always too busy. Get floor done, make fire up, stand and shiver and wonder what next — get a customer, serve same, talk a while, customer goes, turn round and find fire on verge of retiring — try to coax life back, nearly blow self up pouring paraffin on, frayed edges on jacket and cuffs disappear, so does hair on hand.

Finally get fire alight again, and find it is stand-easy time; hunt for cups, can’t find any, so use a stores item, which does very well (can’t disclose what it is for security reasons — wouldn’t have any left in stores!) get over stand-easy, which takes some time, serve another customer, get over that, find it’s lunchtime, so close store, and try to get on van (it’s meant to hold about twenty — gets about two hundred and twenty on) which looks rather like a black maria, only it isn’t black; van starts, am nearly pushed through side of same, by weight of bodies, then van turns and it’s my turn to push, reach destination, very battered, almost suffocated, but still living, rush to dinner — look at it, and make for NAAFI, stand in queue for coffee and cakes, sigh and buy rock buns, eat them and drink coffee, talk about morning’s work, or previous night out — “oh look, there’s Harry, excuse me” go and talk to Harry, then spend rest of lunchtime searching for friends who have mysteriously disappeared, find them eventually — looking for me, decide to walk back with them, and be independent of van, which passes us, and hoots derisively when doing so — men looking out of back also make rude remarks — we stick noses in air and make no comment — get back and get told “You’re early — for tomorrow morning” — stick nose higher, and trip over silly packing case in centre of floor, men laugh, I disappear into store, face very red — rush to fire — no good, it couldn’t wait any longer for me — procure more paraffin, get asked if I intend setting fire to store with all that paraffin, treat remarks with contempt as usual and relight fire, sit down for a while, and contemplate on fate of WRENs.

Stand-Easy and Tea, end at 1800

Decide to work, so start re-stowing some racks, keep at this for what seems centuries, decide have done enough for present, go and fire-watch for a few seconds (or so it seems), Petty Officer comes in full of wrath, saying he always finds me in a state of idleness when he comes in, try to explain about all the work I’ve done, P.0. goes out, but I’m sure he doesn’t believe me, anyway it’s stand-easy, so sit down again and talk; prolong stand-easy for as long as we dare, then go half-heartedly back to work — work for what seems hours, then find out it’s tea-time. Go and collect bread and butter, and maybe, jam, bring back to store, attempt to toast one side on stove, by placing poker and thing to lift off stove top with, on open top of stove, and place bread on top of this — get bread toasted after having place pinched several times by over eager men, but get it back after watching and waiting for chance, eat this usually burnt, and smoky toast, but think it’s wonderful because it’s all one’s own work.

Spend plenty of time over tea, until P.0. comes in, and starts calling us names — we say indignantly, that we’ve only just started, all is smoothed over however, and he stays and talks for a while. I suddenly get a desire for work — everyone looks at me in astonishment, but I take no notice and start on racks again — men finally understand that I mean it, but just shrug their shoulders and say meaningly, with scorn in their voices “leading WRENs, H’m!”. Supposed to finish work at six — several times between 5.30 and 6 o’clock (or rather 1800) try and sneak out, but keep bumping into various people of authority, give up and wait for better opportunity. Ring up friend and arrange to meet at fork of road, finally manage to get away about five minutes to six, say good-bye to men, leave fire to go out for last time, and start cycling back to quarters, wait for ages — in cold for friend, in very bad mood when she finally appears, says she is sorry, but was detained by Petty Officer — knowing what men are, I say knowingly “Oh yes!” and tell her how I’ve nearly been caught trying to get away early for her sake, but remark that I might as well have stayed. We laugh over situation and cycle back in peace.

Supper, Checking the Post

Get back, try to find new hiding place for cycle — give up — so lean it against other cycles and lock. Walk in, take outdoor things off, and throw on chairs in hall, then rush in to supper before the transport comes in. Get supper, more hunts for bread, butter, knives, forks etc. Sit down at last and start to eat — suddenly remember we haven’t looked for mail, so I, martyr-like say “I’ll go”, rush back to hall, find transport in, and can’t get near letter rack, wait a while politely, but decide that isn’t going to get me far, so push and shove 1ike the rest, and arrive in front of rack, look for Elsie, she gets two, look for self — none! Just my luck, go back to mess with black look on face and hand letters to her in silence, finish supper, and have to sit looking at scenery noticing how untidy so-and-so’s hair is, and generally being catty to myself, while waiting for Elsie to finish reading letters; she does so, and just as we are about to place our weary feet upon the stairs, we are asked to volunteer to help wash up — look at each other with anguish in our eyes, but nothing daunted, go back and help wash up, finally get away and go upstairs, get into cabin, discover we have forgotten coats, I decline to go, pretending I’ve something very important to do, which must be done instantly, so get out of that one!

Back to the Cabin

Decide it’s too late to go out, wonder what we can do — dare not go downstairs for fear of being asked to volunteer for something else, so stay and talk. Try to get a bath, but as aforeseen, bathroom occupied, ask can I have it next, told cabin eleven has it — haven’t the slightest idea where cabin eleven is, being quite new to the place, but find it quite near after having been almost all over house looking for it — ask if I can have bath next — hold breath, and keep fingers crossed for luck — get affirmative answer so go back and wait, occupying time by undressing, finally get bath, just putting foot in, and having waited for ages for signs of water to appear from either tap, don’t care which by this time — and discover have forgotten soap bag — contemplate having soak instead of soap, but think maybe dirt won’t all soak off, so dry foot and fetch bag. Just get into bath ready for long session, when knock comes at door, and voice pipes out “Anyone having bath after you?” tell them smugly, yes and they say “oh” but don’t bother to ask who, as time is getting on. Having bathed, run water for Elsie, who is very rude and says “I thought you’d fallen down the plughole!” retort sharply and send her off to bathroom. Get ready to go to bed, Elsie comes back, having had bath and also gets ready — both get into bed, leaving light on for third occupant — just dozing off, when third occupant arrives, starts talking about evening out, takes no notice of our grunts in reply, but goes on — I decide it’s useless to try and sleep, so sit up and take notice, thinking at the same time that it’s worth listening to after all, she turns light out at last, but goes on talking — we all talk for a while, but I finally drop off to dream of — work, and fish — why fish I don’t know, unless it’s what we had for supper, I didn’t think it was too good — wake up suddenly and hear someone talking in her sleep, try and get her to talk more, but don’t hear anything interesting, so give up and go back to sleep.