My stripping yarn in a roomful of sailors

SERVING in the WAAF as a ‘sparks’ (radio operator) in 1949 on Mountbatten Island, Plymouth, I heard that three of us were to be sent to Singapore. We all required medicals to find out if we were fit enough to go, so we all had the necessary tests. You strip to the waist, stand in line and wait for the MO to pass you. But this was at Plymouth Naval Hospital. We arrived in high spirits and were shown into a room by a nurse. ‘Strip to the waist and go through that door,’ she said, pointing to the far end of the room. ‘Leave your clothes on the bench.’ We were already stripping, trying to race each other to get through the door and be the first one out. I won and yanking open the door and racing through, I ran down the centre of the room laughing and calling out to my colleagues. Suddenly I became aware I was not alone. Loud whistling, clapping and gales of laughter reached my ears and I looked up to see hordes of amused naked men cheering me on! My companions had come to a halt behind me. Scarlet-faced, we looked at each other to find a quick way out. The crush of

round us made it impossible to go back to our room. Then out of the melee stepped a fully clothed officer. ‘Very good,’ he said. ‘Now go back and put on the gowns hanging behind the door and we’ll try that again. Can’t have you unsettling the men like that. It’ll take me forever to calm them down. When you get back, you’d better come to the front of the queue.’ Turning to the sailors, he roared at them to get back in line. We slunk back to the room and, in total silence, put on the gowns behind the door. Slowly, very slowly, we crept out and, with heads down, walked to the head of the long queue, looking neither to the right or left and desperately trying to ignore wolfwhistles and smutty remarks. Strangely, although we knew we were in a naval hospital, it had never occurred to any of us that there would be sailors there!

Mrs Angela Graham, Charing, Kent.