蜜芽传媒

Birch Tree,
8 Broadmead
Tunbridge Wells

At the outbreak of the Second World War I was 17 years鈥� old. I was born in Brighton, Sussex in 1921 and had moved with my family to the Royal Oak Hotel, Hawkhurst in 1936.

My brother Vernon Simmonds, was a fighter pilot and one of the 鈥榝amous few鈥� in the Battle of Britain. One day in September, at the time of the main battle, I was blackberry picking and there was nowhere to run. I watched the approach of the German planes, too many to count, and the Spitfires weaving in and out attacking the German planes, several of which dived low and hedge-hopped over the fields.

At that time I was very naive. Girls of my age were considered very innocent and unworldly. I had never been away from my parents鈥� home and had only once been to London on my own. In 1939 I volunteered as a driver for the WAAF鈥榮. There were no vacancies and I was accepted as an Equipment Assistant, ACW2 (Aircraft Woman Second Class) and posted to Harrogate. Four of us travelled that day, dressed in civvies (civilian clothes) with our compulsory gas masks slung over our shoulders.

Our billet at the Grand Hotel had been taken over and stripped bare for the purpose. The four of us shared a bedroom with iron bedsteads, small sausage-shaped pillows and three palliases for mattresses. We had our hair cut short and were kitted out and taught how to march and how to queue. We were given full medicals and had to learn to 鈥榙rop our clothes鈥� in a flash for examinations; there was no time for niceties. We soon learned that to volunteer for special duties could mean scrubbing floors or washing up hundreds of dishes.

It was a severely cold winter and there was no heating and little light. Electricity had to be conserved. Floors were covered in linoleum and there was no means of telephoning home or communicating with the outside world. We had to queue up for our food and were issued with knife, fork, spoon and introduced to a 鈥榤ug鈥� rather than the normal china tea cups. This was quite a cultural shock to many of us.

After two weeks we were ready for posting to our first RAF station. In my case this meant going to Melksham in Wiltshire for a course in training as an Equipment Assistant. The billet was an RAF hut housing about 25 girls and one NCO (non commissioned officer). Our ablutions were situated in another hut about a hundred yards away so it did not pay to get taken short during the night, especially as there were no lights because of the black-out!

I was given my full compliment of injections which made my delirious and confined me to bed. I was ticked off my the duty admin officer when she inspected our hut. Someone told her I was sick but no sympathy was given and none was expected!

2

On completion of the course I was posted to RAF Brize Norton, Oxfordshire. My travel instructions didn鈥檛 explain there were two places with that name. The Military Police directed me to Air Ministry, which had been bombed the previous night. I arrived by taxi with a shilling to spare and wended my way across the rubble to contact a WAAF officer who directed me to Oxford, thankfully providing me with sufficient cash for the journey.

Brize Norton was No. 2 FTS (Flying Training School). I was billeted in the old 鈥榓irmen鈥檚 quarters鈥� and was awakened at 6.30 a.m. by a bugler, playing 鈥淵ou鈥檝e go to get up鈥�! I was marched to the mess for breakfast, then marched to the stores where I was to work. The billet was like a small council house - without heat or hot water. The walls were painted, DARK green and cream and we had an allowance of one sack of fuel to heat the water by way of the copper in the kitchen. We were only allowed three inches of water in the bath. In the upstairs and downstairs rooms there were two double and one single bunk; no wardrobes so our belongings remained in our kitbags which were always locked because anything left lying about was nicked if we turned our backs!

Within two months I was promoted to corporal. (I sewed my stripes on upside down!) The stores where I worked had iron bars to the windows and a few yards away was the morgue, where the young trainee flyers were taken before burial. There would be a funeral march, and we would howl our eyes out watching the relatives, all dressed in black. We all had relatives on active duty. I asked one airman why they needed the canvas they kept coming for and he explained that it was to pick up the bodies from the many crashes that happened every week. There were Czech and Polish personnel on the station and they gave the WAAF quite a few problems. The RAF were not enamoured of the WAAF invading their territory and they played many tricks on us.

I left Brize Norton within the year, not quite so ignorant of life. I was commissioned and posted to OCTU at Loughborough College. Eventually those who passed OCTU received a kitting allowance. Tailors were sent from London. I chose Austin Reed and Gieves of Saville Row. Our passing out parade was before H.R.H. Princess Alice, our Commandant. We were tremendously proud of this honour and instilled with fervour and determination to win the war. All these experiences live vividly in my mind.

When I went before a Selection Board at the Air Ministry for my commission I asked if it were possible to take a commission as an Equipment Officer. This request was granted and I was chosen as one of the first WAAF鈥檚 to go on an Equipment course at Grange Over Sands in Lancashire. I passed the course successfully and was posted to Manchester to No. 35 M.U. (Maintenance Unit). This was not an RAF Station but a civilian-manned unit at Heywood. The H.Q. was in Heywood itself but the various sites, which stocked balloon equipment, aircraft spares and motor transport spares etc. covered an area up to 10 - 15 miles.

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I was put in charge of the Shipping Office, H.Q. Transportation. I was nineteen and a half years鈥� old and knew nothing about the job I was given. There was one Squadron Leader and myself as RAF and I was faced by a sea of faces from a depressed Lancashire area, many of whom suffered from bronchial problems due to the appalling weather and living conditions.

It took me about three months to learn my job and the responsibilities were heavy. On one occasion I had to deal with Russians who needed details of what had happened to the equipment shipped to Vladivostok for them, after ships had been sunk. I had to go through all the records, working backwards, so our S.H.Q had the details and could prepare a second issue. I had access to all coded secret papers relating to the different destinations, and had to sign the Secrets Act.

To reach my office I had to climb an iron rung ladder above the transportation rail sheds. It was freezing cold and always damp. I became very fond of 鈥檓y girls鈥� as I called them. In most cases they were old enough to be my mother.

I celebrated my twenty first birthday at the Grand Hotel, Manchester, with a few fellow officers. I was sent for by the Air Commodore who asked me if I was capable of opening up a M.T. Unit (Motor Transport) at Sheffield to be situated on a Balloon Unit. I told him I was and I and two male officers were detailed to receive hundreds of vehicles including motor cycles for storage and fitting up for overseas. This would have been for the first invasion. Again we had civilian personnel and I was detailed to teach them all about RAF form fillings and accounting within a few days. Our main problem was the Wing Commander C.O. of the Balloon Unit who was only concerned about our 鈥榙riving over the grass verges鈥�!

Having set up the Unit, the Americans descended en masse for vehicles and the strain of all the responsibility proved too much and I was posted back South for health reasons, this time to White City, London. The area had been bombed and was infested with rats and after two days I landed up in hospital for six weeks鈥� rest.

My posting for Boscombe Down, Wiltshire, with a promotion to Flight Officer came through. I was second in command of 400 airwomen and Officer in charge of Technical Supplies. Together with our commanding officer Air Commodore Bob Boothby we were responsible for keeping all aircraft in the air. He was well known for his exploits as a pilot. There were no a.o.g. because of lack of spares. At this time the knowledge I had gained in Maintenance Command was invaluable.

Boscombe Down was manned by RAF and was the Government M.A.P sister station to Farnborough. The purpose of the station was to test the prototype aircraft before they were passed on to production. Soon after my arrival the first jet fighter plane arrived to testing. There was a total black-out on personnel and great secrecy had to be observed. We now know that the Germans already had a jet fighter - so much for all the secrecy!

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I had never been on an air base before. It was a most interesting and exciting experience. I soon learned that there were accidents, fatalities and even to this day I remember those young men, so brave and courageous, who disappeared one by one from the breakfast tables each morning. No-one ever made mention of it. My job as Technical Equipment Officer meant I was responsible for the provision of all spares needed to keep aircraft airbourne. My experience in Maintenance Command came in very useful as I knew exactly where and when to get those vital spares. There were always emergencies, all stops were pulled out to get the necessary spares.

The Mess itself was impressive. The first time I attended a 鈥榩arty鈥� after arriving on camp I was greeted by a sea of handsome faces, all ready to 鈥榯ake the micky鈥� out of a new arrival. What parties they had! I have never experienced before or since such incredible people as I met there. Not only RAF. but also Naval Officer Test Pilots. Enough to turn the head of any young woman. I can understand now, looking back, why those pilots were so wonderful. They all lived with the fact that they could die at any time as they set off in their prototype planes. Every minute of every day could be their last.

It was here I met the 鈥榣ove of my life鈥� the C.O. of Intensive Development Flight. He tested the planes to their extreme, before passing for production. He was as mad as the rest of them and I had six months of intense happiness that had to last a lifetime because it didn鈥檛 last for him. But there was total heartbreak for me and I have never recovered emotionally from that experience. I was just one of thousands due to the war.

That year the war was drawing to a close. I was discharged the following spring to face a very uncertain future. I was intensely proud of having served my country during the war in the RAF. It was an honour to have held the Kings Commission.

In 1990 I was asked by Air Commodore Montague BSC WRAF to serve on the Executive Committee of the WRAF Officer鈥檚 Association for the production of the Annual Gazette. I served three years until the RAF moved H.Q. to Gloucestershire. I enjoyed that immensely. It was a touching finish to my memories of the Royal Air Force.

O. Panzer

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