The week which saw the end of World War II, eighty years ago, began on a rather domestic note for Wren Kathleen Smith, still in Sick Bay with an injured leg, courtesy of the Manx barbed wire beach defences. Her family in Leicester wished to ensure she had fresh food and had sent plums, tomatoes and apples through the post – as well as flapjacks, toffees and chocolate. Kathleen reported, when thanking them in an August 13 letter, that only one tomato and two plums had failed to travel well.

The tantalising prospect of the War ending was also on her mind – and what the future might hold for her. ‘News of the possibility of the war finishing is quite exciting! If it is correct (and I presume Japan will eventually accept our terms), I don’t feel at all annoyed over my decision… It won’t be so bad leaving the W.R.N.S. if the war is completely over – as it would have been, if part of the war were still continuing.’ Kathleen’s plans were to teach or, if she failed in that attempt, a fallback position would be to investigate a job with Liverpool’s shipping lines, as she dearly wished to see more of the world.

On August 15, Kathleen wrote again, starting her letter with, ’THE DAY - and here I am celebrating in Sick Bay – cursing my bad luck!’. Clement Atlee made a midnight broadcast to the nation on August 14 that Japan had surrendered. It became official a few minutes later at Ronaldsway, as Kathleen reported that ‘according to Sister, it was announced over the tannoy last night at 12:10. Everyone got up – the men banged on the Wrens’ huts till they came out. They lit a bonfire in the middle of the camp – then all danced and sang round it. Tea was made – eats dished out - and it was about 3:30 before the First Officer could get everybody back to bed. I guess they’ll be going quite mad today. I’m hoping they’ll spare a few minutes and come in and tell me about it.’

That afternoon, the celebrations even reached Sick Bay: ‘A few minutes ago, I watched the NAAFI [Navy Army and Air Force Institutes] van arrive, and crates of beer were carried into the men’s ward. I feel more sorry for them being stuck in there than I do for myself. One of the nurses has brought us each a bottle of “Pale Ale”. That doesn’t console me as I don’t like it!’ Kathleen concluded by fondly imagining the family’s reactions in Leicester: ‘I imagine you at home being glued to the radio, with a walk into town, if it’s nice, to see how the crowds are behaving.’.

A letter later in the week gave another glimpse of Ronaldsway on VJ Day. ‘Most of the Cabin spent the morning in bed after last night’s activities. They’ll all be splitting up into their various groups this evening and celebrating.’ But a later addition showed that this didn’t quite go to plan: ‘There was hardly anyone at the camp dance in the evening – I expect the majority of the men were flat out.’

However, some celebrations did come to Sick Bay. ‘We had slight disturbances in the Ward about midnight. Two of the off-duty nurses had been out drinking with two of the men patients - and they wandered into the Ward, thrusting Union Jacks and hydrangea flowers onto us. They kicked up a terrific din outside, laughing and singing. I believe all the pubs in Castletown were completely packed and Douglas was the same. I was annoyed because I missed a legitimate excuse to go and have one or two drinks.’

By August 16, Kathleen reported no more disturbances, although the Station – like the rest of the UK – enjoyed the two-day national holiday of August 15-16.

After that, she looked to the future, although she anticipated no immediate changes at the Base. ‘I’ve actually no idea when I’ll be demobbed – I don’t think the Officers have either. Mum was worrying about my clothing coupons! Plenty of time for that [i.e. to use them] yet, I think.’

Later in the week, Kathleen was allowed to walk a bit, and enjoyed seeing people on the beach and her friends at Camp. She also spared a thought for her male colleagues in an August 17 letter. ‘I wonder what’s going to happen at the Station – if they’ll continue with the training programme. They’ll have to do something with the air crew boys. There are a lot of Swordfish flying about this morning. I’ve just been thinking how sad their pilots must feel to think that they’ve probably got to return to dull office jobs and never again be able to wander down to the airfield, get into the cockpit, taxi down the runway - and up into the sky…. There is pleasure in flying in a Swordfish: I’d like to go up again before I leave. Since the last accident, they’re not allowing Wrens to go up in Barracudas – other aircraft are OK though.’

An element of reflecting back on the positive experiences offered by the Isle of Man, crept into Kathleen’s letters, especially towards the end of the week. ‘I walked along the beach yesterday where lots of naval personnel were bathing. - One couldn’t choose a much pleasanter place in which to recuperate.’ She also looked back at her work: ‘I’ve been so very lucky with my watches – think that’s why I’ve enjoyed life here. I have had time to live and enjoy myself.’ At this point, she didn’t realise that it would be several months before she finally left the Isle of Man.