Day ‘Dickie’ gave me the once-over

The recent article about Lord Louis Mountbatten (Mail) reminded me of a wet sunday morning in 1942. i was a 19-year-old in Women’s Royal Naval uniform on parade with Royal Marines and sailors, waiting for Chief of Combined Operations Louis Mountbatten to inspect us. We were ‘on the quarter-deck’ in commandeered holiday hotels and boarding houses along the seafront in essex, designated as hMs Westcliff. Fog hung thick in the air. the ensign hung limp on a flagpole. the ‘quarter-deck’ was on the Leas, a road above the Western esplanade, where a marine band played. the mist-shrouded sea lapped the shore sluggishly, while mist clung to our greatcoats. We stood at ease, waiting. the band played a repertoire of marches, including the Colonel Bogey March. Finally, very late, the Chief of Combined Ops arrived. We sprung to attention. he walked along the ranks, a posse of top brass with ‘scrambled egg’ on their caps trailed after him. he paused occasionally to speak to people. he stopped at me and asked: ‘how long have you been in the Wrens?’ ‘Nine weeks, sir,’ i replied. the inspection was at last over and we were dismissed. Many witty lyrics were set to Colonel Bogey, some not suitable for a respectable newspaper. i try to remember a ditty we sang to the tune and get no further than: ‘You’d be far better off in a home, you’d be far better off in a home.’ that chilly sunday morning, waiting on that Westcliff-on-sea front, those words were no doubt running through a few minds.

Sylvia Rowley, Manchester.