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'In September 1939, at the age of 17, my friends, Joan, Min, Audrey and myself were already doing part time voluntary work. The four of us were christened 'The Four Musketeers' by a half uncle of mine sometime later.'
Joyce Watson (nee Kent), a wonderful lady who, incidentally, is my aunt, recalls what life was like for her during her late teenage years, at the start of World War II.
'We were actually preparing for war but, as youngsters, we really didn't take it seriously. I met up with a boy called Jack, there always seemed to be a male companion in all I did. (No sex in those days, I didn't even know anything about it, and was too busy anyway). Jack's Dad was a Commandant of the Male Red Cross Detachment. We girls belonged to 156 Detachment locally.
After our home nursing, first aid, and invalid cooking, which I chose as an extra, this amounted to some 100 hours training. Not that that covered us for the years to come, just the beginning. We kept our civilian jobs; I was a shop assistant at Woolworth's.
I'll never forget the Sunday air raid warning, a practice on announcing the War had started. Dad was away on a Territorial Summer Camp. It was my idea that he joined about two years before, for an interest, as well as meeting other men. My friend Pat's, Dad also belonged, he was a Sergeant. Pat eventually joined the ATS, the female Army Service.
The camp was good for Dad, as it was his first break since marrying after the First World War, when he was an infantry soldier. He suffered terribly for four years from a very painful neuritis - the scourge of the trenches, with wet clothes etc. When in 1939 the war broke out, my words were 'Well Dad, you'll be OK. This time it will be about six years', and it was.
Dad was a Home Counties Searchlight Plane Spotter, the best in the group, probably. He was the only serving personnel to fall in a pub and break a rib or two, with Mum receiving a telegram, telling her he was on the seriously ill list. Of course, he survived, ready to spot again. It was a very active unit, mostly night duty, as this was the Germans' favourite time to fly over the U.K.
We 'Four Musketeers' did our duties eventually between work, hospitals and Haslett's Garage, in a road somewhere opposite the (old) Plaza Cinema. Canadian troops were billeted all around, and while it was green alert, we were allowed to kip in an ambulance, of course getting away in time to wash and brush up for 9 a.m. to our paid jobs. Our hospital voluntary duties carried on.
Haslett's garage was taken over as active depot with full-timers and us doing part-time. I don't remember going out with any ambulance crew, although we had dummy runs to keep in practice. Fortunately between 1939 and 1940 many bombs were dropped in the sea as the Germans never took bombs back with them.
I had an ambition to train as a teacher or be a nursing nun after achieving my SRN. My education at St. Mary's, thanks to the headmaster and a special class he had put me in, stood me in good stead for later. Mum was blocking it, however, - 'what was good enough for us is good enough for you', was her motto. Not this child, I thought and I knew with my Post Office book and Post Office stamp saving I'd get somewhere, I had to! I'd saved odd 3d. pieces etc. If I remember rightly, you started P.O. savings with one shilling.'
Joyce went on to work as an SRN in many hospitals, including Rochford General in Southend, Harefield and Mount Vernon, Northwood.
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