Grace Merrett (nee Pace)

WRNS. Eastcote, Gayhurst and Bletchley Park 1944 - 1945. Bombe operator.

I spent 3 weeks in Leeds in 1944 on pre Wren training, during which time we attended lectures on naval traditions, scrubbed floors, helped out at a local Fair and generally got to know each other. We were a mixed bunch! We were kitted out with regulation wear, but unlike the ATS and WAAF we could obtain dockets for such things as pyjamas and underwear and spend them in chivvy shops. These would also sell us material in lieu and thus I often made myself pyjamas and camiknickers.

Drafted down to Eastcote as a group of 12 we were trained in the use of the bombe by a very pleasant Petty Officer Wren.  I really enjoyed working in the bombe, particularly setting up the back with its multitude of leads and plugs. Each watch had its own large cabin with a central aisle and ‘bays’ on each side, each bay with 4 double bunks (the top bunk always being the favourite), sleeping 8 Wrens per bay.

We worked hard, but at every opportunity, watches permitting, we went down to London where we could be entertained at the many Service Clubs, thus meeting up with other service people, many of them having escaped from occupied countries. We danced to the music of Glenn Miller and his orchestra, were entertained by well known actors and on one occasion a party of us stayed overnight at a Salvation Army Hostel in the West End so that we could dance at Covent Garden-on a Sunday!! I did not tell my parents. We went to nearby Uxbridge where the RAF Film Unit was situated, for a dance. My main memory of that is of a very young, unhappy looking Richard Attenborough standing on the edge of the dance floor. Wherever we were stationed there was always a dance somewhere and Wrens were always popular-I think it was the uniform!

The invasion took place whilst I was at Eastcote and many of us gave blood. Christmas 1944 saw a group of us singing carols in the wards of the nearby hospital. I made the acquaintance of a ‘delicacy’ unknown to me, in the shape of bread and dripping and our treat of the week was hot rolls and butter each Sunday breakfast. With very little pay there were times when we were hard up and this meant that possibly all we could afford was a cup of coffee (2d per cup) at the local W.V.S Canteen. On one occasion a friend removed the 6d from her tally band to pay for hers. I spent two short periods in Sick Bay, one for a case of Ringworm on my face, the other for a stomach disorder. Anything in the nature of the latter made the M.O. suspicious, suspecting each case of being a pregnancy.

Wren officers tended to treat us as ‘family’ and when a couple of Wrens were to be drafted to another establishment pairs of names (friends) were put on a single piece of paper and literally ‘put in a hat’. Thus it was that Joan and I found ourselves in Gayhurst Manor. Initially Joan and I were placed in a cottage where the mice nibbled at my very precious bar of chocolate. We worked in the large hut at the rear of the house and a walk back to the kitchen in the middle of night watch was certainly spooky. Here, in the kitchen, we had tea and cake, the latter made more palatable with a spread of margarine, which in those days was not very palatable either. But there was a war on! Also at the back of the house there was a pets’ graveyard and a wood. It was said that one of the conspirators from the Gunpowder Plot had lived there and that, at midnight on the 5th November his ghost appeared. A Wren proved that to be wrong!

Snowdrops grew abundantly in the wood and I picked a boxful, sent them by post to a sick friend and they arrived the next day! Transport was difficult but we could always be assured of a lift if we were at the end of the long drive, very early, when a lorry driver would pick us up and drop us at the nearest railway station. It was always safe in those days to hitch lifts and on one occasion travelling from Leicester back to quarters, we had three lifts, the last one being from very nice gentlemen who treated us to lunch. There was the occasional dance at Gayhurst and again, ‘in loco parentis’ the officer’s came out to round up those Wrens who were still outside at the end of the evening. We attended Chapel, in the grounds, when watches permitted, walked along to the nearest village perhaps for Evensong and on one occasion attended a thanksgiving service in Newport Pagnell.

So next stop, Bletchley Park. We lived in another old house, Crawley Grange, just as spooky as Gayhurst, from where we were transported to B.P. Here, I forgot my pass on one occasion and had to be vouched for by other Wrens. Memories are few, we were dropped off at Hut 11 worked out our watch and then were taken back to Crawley Grange. We knew nothing of what went on in other huts, just saw odd bods around on occasion. We were completely isolated work wise but on one occasion must have left the area because it was, at a pub round the corner that I learned of the joys of a gin and tonic. When the war in Europe ended we spent a short while starting to dismantle the Bombes, by simply removing brushes from the drums. As a typist I was transferred to another Hut and it was then I realised that there were other Wrens working at Bletchley Park. After a short while there I changed quarters, moving to Stockgrove Park, where we were kept busy with lectures (we had one on ballet and the meaning of the movements). I could have changed to another category, but I chose not to.
I used to hear how badly treated we were, in hideous conditions, but it didn’t seem so at the time. We took all as matter of course-after all, there was a war on! However, with hindsight I do feel that it was unnecessary that, at Eastcote, we had to parade after night watch. Why? Maybe simply Naval tradition, but there were times when I fell asleep standing up!