Wren Kathleen Oates was stationed on the Isle of Man from 1944 onwards, writing dozens of letters home about life and operations at Ronaldsway. Eighty years later, her daughter, Christine Smith, explores these letters in a series of columns based on Kathleen’s wartime experiences.

Wren Kathleen Oates had returned from her leave by this week eighty years ago, but an annual inoculation for typhoid made things get off to a slow start, as it knocked her out for a day, with exhaustion, a stiff arm and aching body. At least she was in better shape, she mused, than one of the girls she shared the cabin with, who had somehow walked into a concrete pillar with enough force to ‘splinter her bottom jaw a little…she had to have her two front lower teeth out so it would heal more easily’. If alcohol consumption had something to do with this accident, Kathleen did not say so to her Methodist parents.

Kathleen had recovered by the time she was back at work – and her duties were fairly light as she and Cynthia now had a third Wren to lighten their new schedule, which she detailed in her letter home. ‘I will work from 1-5:30 approx on the first day; the second day is 9:30-12:30am and 8-12pm; and the third day is off, after night flying! Etc etc. Pretty easy, isn’t it? That’s not counting Wednesday and Saturday afternoons and all day Sunday – on which there isn’t any night flying at all.’

It wasn’t just Ronaldsway where the pace had slowed down. Kathleen had received a letter from her former Leading Wren, Olivia, which reflected a mood of general uncertainty among those who remained in the Forces. Of her boyfriend, she wrote that ‘he went on draft yesterday – down to Devonport Barracks, from where most people seem to be getting a good amount of leave as it is so overcrowded. I don’t know if it will mean an overseas draft because he is group 42 and has done 2 ½ years overseas already. Olivia’s own status was slightly clearer: ‘I am awaiting my relief, so that I can be demobbed by the end of October!’

Understandably, Kathleen continued to mull on what she might do next and had written to friends in Liverpool, the Muirs, as Mr Muir had a career with links to shipping lines. If she were to obtain such a position, it would satisfy her wish to see more of the world, and she enquired of him whether he knew of any openings. The reply which reached her was kindly but did not offer much hope: ‘At the moment, I have no influence whatsoever with the SS companies here, as an inability to export, owing to government control, has severed any contact that I’ve formerly had.’ He went on to consider her future - which was very much typical of the times with the light-hearted advice it offered to a young woman. ‘Are you going to get married someday or is it your intention to work on and on instead? If you decide on the latter course, then I say take a job with a pension at the end of it, be in local government or with Post Office telegraphs. If, however, it’s your intention to marry, then stay at home. Learn how to sew, to darn, and above all to cook for the poor man that gets you, and in return he’d live for you, adore you, take you to the pictures now and again and if he is wealthy, lavish all kinds of costly gifts upon you, so that after a number of years you would be able to look back and say that married life had been nearly as good as living in the Wrens.’ At that moment, married life was very far from Kathleen’s mind.

In fact, life was good and she threw herself into enjoying her present life and work. A real treat for her was an outing on a destroyer, as she reported on September 28. ‘I have just returned from Douglas after being out on HMS Quantock all day. It’s one of the ships which tows a target for the Barracudas to bomb. It wasn’t really exciting, all we did was stooge [an RAF term for flying or moving about aimlessly] up and down the coast between Douglas and Castletown, whilst the kites dived on the target. The ship itself had been stripped of guns, depth charges etc...I did steer the ship for about ½ hr – I haven’t taken the wheel of a destroyer before, so that was something new. And of course, the food was good – as much butter as we could possibly eat!’

Kathleen also continued to appreciate the Isle of Man. ‘Yesterday [September 24] was almost perfect – as hot as Summer, but with a strong wind blowing to remind one that it is now Autumn. Cynthia and I went for a walk over the fields – picking and eating blackberries - and I enjoyed every minute of it. I didn’t realise till I returned here after my leave, how much we see of the sky! At home, we don’t see anything, but here you can see to the horizon, all the way round, the sea on one side, and the fields and hills on the other. Last night there was a lovely sunset. Unfortunately, I’ve never seen the sun go down into the sea here – as we’re on the east side of the island; it always goes down behind the hills which is almost as perfect. Yes, we’ve had gales here, too. On Saturday morning [September 22], the high tide was a wonderful picture. The waves were breaking right over the jetty and harbour wall, and the promenade was covered in stranded seaweed and other debris. That delightful feeling of licking salt-spray from one’s lips, is only second best to being in the sea itself!’

Any letters which Kathleen sent home at the start of October 1945, are missing. The next update will appear in w/c October 13.