Kathleen Oates - a Wren assigned to the Women's Royal Naval Service during the Second World War - was transferred to the Isle of Man in 1944, where she would stay for almost 18 months. During her time on the island, she wrote dozens of letters to home which provide a unique commentary on the operations at Ronaldsway and what life was like on the Isle of Man 80 years ago. Her daughter, CHRISTINE SMITH, pores through her mother’s letters as part of a series of columns based on Kathleen Oates’s writing...

Too late for the VJ Day celebrations, Leading Wren Kathleen Oates was discharged from Sick Bay on Wednesday August 24, eighty years ago this week.

As friends had written to her about their VJ Day commemorations, she was aware that not everyone had the time of their lives over the two-day national holiday the previous week.

Her Ops Room colleague Cynthia, wrote to her from her leave; August 15 itself had been rather underwhelming. ‘Here, the celebrations took the shape of dancing in Market Square, illuminating bonfires and torchlight procession up the Downs. We went down to the marketplace to see the dancing, but didn’t stay long: afterwards, we walked miles in the dark through wet fields in a vain attempt to see the bonfire etc. We discovered afterwards that we had been misinformed and have been walking in the wrong direction! Finally got into bed about 1 am feeling a bit defrauded! The next day was much more civilised – various friends came up for drinks, Daddy having procured some sherry, and it was all quite chatty.’

Her Liverpool friends, the Muirs reported that ‘VJs 1 and 2 passed off rather quietly in Crosby. We went down to the main road in the afternoon and listened to the Mayor proclaiming, but it was a lame affair and the best we could find to do in the evening was a service at the Baptist Chapel.’ Unimpressed at the lack of celebrations in their road, they eventually found a bonfire elsewhere in the neighbourhood and danced round it.

It seemed that the heartiest celebrations were held by those in the Forces. Kathleen’s schoolfriend Cooky wrote from Poole, describing a ‘pretty hectic’ VJ Day, with parties developing all over; she went on a pub crawl in a Royal Navy lorry, followed by a Victory Dance at her Camp till 1am. Cooky wrote of having to face end-of-war problems such as the fact that she was head over heels in love with a Subby on her Base, but needed to deal sensitively with an old friend returning home, who seemed to have spent four years in the desert, thinking about her.

There was a more grim post-war reality to be faced, as could be seen with the Muirs describing their close neighbours in the street, whom Kathleen would have met, returning after being demobbed. ‘Kenneth’s poor burned hands look quite awful, but the medics tell him that the skin grafts will improve in appearance as time goes by. The Lieutenant next door but one has also got his discharge and his face is very badly scarred and he is minus an eye. Well, that’s the penalty of war.’

Meanwhile, everyone had to face the mundane grind of obtaining clothing and other desirables. As ever, Kathleen tried to use her Forces allocation as best as possible. ‘I heard the news on the radio about clothing coupons having to last much longer – isn’t it awful!! I shall have to spend a lot of mine on new shoes - if I can get them. I went to Taggarts and got a credit note for those coupons, but they hadn’t any crepe in, Mum. I shall keep enquiring for you. I think I’ll buy some more “Navy Vests” to keep for demobbing – they will save my own coupons. Do you want any at home because I can get them? Also would you like a pyjama chit if I can get one, Dorothy – so that you can buy ready-made pyjamas – or are they too expensive?’

Mrs Muir summarised the general mood. ‘Sir Stafford Cripps [President of the Board of Trade from July 1945] has brought down the hammer on our hopes with a hard and heavy hand, hasn’t he? The people in the liberated countries will soon be sending us the old cast-off clothing to help us on our way! The general feeling in Liverpool is that the fruits of victory are not as sweet or as plentiful as we had hoped for. The Labour government certainly have a very forbidding task in front of them, sorting all the tangled skeins out.’

Kathleen was expected to return to work in the Ronaldsway Control Tower on Friday 26th, so she popped into the Ops Room, to see what watch she would have, and her male colleagues discussed her wounded leg with her. ‘It is a nuisance about the scar. One of the boys in the Control Tower was trying to console me this afternoon by saying, “Never mind, Kay – not everyone looks at legs” – another chipped in with “No! - but 99% do!”. I expect in a few years it will fade a little.’

The next consideration would be when she could take her leave and return home to Leicester for a break. ‘They’re in rather a mess with staffing in the Control Tower, as the girls who were relieving Cynthia and I have gone on draft. This affects my leave – as there’s now no one to relieve me. So I couldn’t come on leave just yet even if I wanted to. I shall get fourteen days – that’s including my VJ leave, so it will be a good long time.’

Kathleen was too intent on enjoying the Isle of Man in summer to dwell much on what was out of her control, and used the last of her time to celebrate her freedom from Sick Bay. Thursday 25th saw an outing to Port St Mary, with a fish-salad tea at Wendy’s followed by sunbathing on the beach. Her happy Forces lifestyle had resumed.