“I had twenty minutes to get ready — I grabbed my hair curlers and pyjamas and ran!”
Megan Moir was one of the few Wrens who actually went to sea . . .
I volunteered when I was eighteen, in June 1944. I was stationed in Larne, County Antrim, with a Scottish girl called Lynne. She and I were to work on a training yacht called the Philante.
I had only been in Ireland a few weeks when Lynne went on leave, so I was the only Wren at the base office. One morning I went down to the docks and the officer said, “We’re whisking you away!” The Philante was moving. He said, “You’ve got twenty minutes.”
As a single Wren you weren’t allowed to board a ship unless there was another Wren or medical officer with you. They had asked for permission to transport me, but knew it would be refused, so we had to leave before the signal came back from the authorities.
I ran back to the Wrenery and grabbed my Dinkie curlers, pyjamas and sponge bag. I was put on this motor boat and the officer was pulling my leg and saying there were no women where I was going. It was Kyle of Lochalsh. It was snowing, as it was January, and the person in charge of the boat lent me a duffel coat.
One night that I’ll always remember is when out on exercise in the Atlantic. Lynne and I were sitting in the ward room. At about nine we heard lots of cheering.
Somebody rushed in and put the radio on. It was Winston Churchill saying that the war was over. We were with an American group of frigates and a couple of submarines. They let off rockets. Everyone was down on the quay cheering us in and the locals were playing the bagpipes – it was wonderful.