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Patricia Bridgen Farley was a Wren (Womens Royal Naval Service) stationed at Portkil, Near Kilcreggan, Scotland during World War II, living in a house affectionately known to the group of Wrens that were based there as 'The Barn'. The Wrens came to be known as the 'Barnites'.
A date with a corpsman or sailor usually meant staying at the house, listening to records, or playing table tennis in the Nissen hut. The ping-pong table was set up in the middle of the hut between the beds, and spectators would sit on the cots and make caustic comments.
An embarrassing moment occurred once when I was one of the players. I gave an enormous smash with the paddle, and the ball disappeared. I noticed it had gone in the direction of one of the beds, where a corpsman and Wren were watching the game. 'Excuse me', I said politely 'but I think there's a ball down there,' indicating an area around the sailor's trousers. 'You're dern tootin', he exclaimed, 'there's more than one'. Ignorant though I was of the slang expression, I knew I had made a faux pas. Everyone was hooting with laughter, and I felt the complete nerd.
Sometimes, the long hand of the British Navy reached out and ordered us to attend a dinner dance in Glasgow, a 'degaussing' affair. We had to stay overnight in a local hotel and could bring our own dates, if need-be.
I still recall a party that went on into the wee hours of the morning in the hotel after the dance, where we laughed and giggled with our doctor friends until the frustrated hotel help brought out a vacuum cleaner to get us moving.
Saturday night was our big time for dates. We would walk three miles to Cove, the next village to Kilcreggan, to the church hall, where a local band would play for an assorted crowd of villagers, Wrens, and the U.S. Navy. It was not the biggest of bands, strictly an amateur affair, consisting of a piano, two fiddles, a double-bass, drums and sometimes bagpipes!
There was a nominal fee to enter and refreshments were provided by the church ladies. Hard liqueur was forbidden but you could soon tell if drinking has been going on outside. Your partner's steps would become more wobbly and his breath would give away the secret.
Neat and tidy to start with, we were pretty dishevelled at the close from the folk dances and/or the jitterbugging. We danced mainly with our dates, if we had come with one, or the sailors from the base and hospital.
We always enjoyed ourselves, and I was very proud to learn some of the steps of the Scottish folk dances. The bagpipes were so noisy. I've never liked to hear them inside but the sound of them in the open air still gives me the shivers.
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