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...

The letter which Leading Wren Kathleen Oates sent home to her family 80 years ago this week, on November 28, was written in instalments – before and after the Leaving Party for the Wrens at Ronaldsway.

But first, she had more consequential news to impart: she would be travelling to Liverpool the next week, to be interviewed for a place in a teacher training college.

Mum Elsie had been asked to send over her Higher School Certificate, which clearly had to be taken to the interview. Kathleen’s mind was buzzing with the logistics of the journey and of her immediate future in the Forces.

‘I’ll go up to Liverpool on December 6 and return here on the 8th.

‘From then onwards, I shall be free to be drafted anywhere – apparently they’re keeping me here for the interview – which seems crazy.

‘What annoys me is that it will mean three of those deadly ferry crossings instead of one – that is, unless I can manage a flip [slang for a ride in a plane]. If there’s a kite going over that day, I’ll be able to fly.’

But she was also excited about the upcoming Wrens’ dance on November 27.

‘It’s our dance tonight; I hope it’s a success. We are wearing civvies [civilian clothing] and fancy dress masks – it should be fun. I should’ve been helping with the decorations this morning but I had to cycle up and see the First Officer about this interview.’

Inevitably, her letter strayed on to the atmosphere at camp, and how her peers were facing what the future held for them.

‘I cycled up to the control tower this afternoon with two more of the boys who were on their way to Sick Bay to see the MO [Medical Officer] for the demobbing medical.

‘Both of them were pretty fed up – one said he’s going to take his two months’ leave, then sign on - i.e. join the Navy again! This attitude seems general. I wonder what is the exact implication behind it: whether it’s a form of escapism, or whether it really is a better way of living.’

There didn’t seem to be any clear route out of the Forces which might be optimal; everyone appeared to be finding their own way. Kathleen kept her eye on what was happening to others and how they felt about it. A Leicester schoolfriend appeared to have remustered.

‘I’ve had a letter from Doreen Cook, who is on a naval air station in Sussex. She hated it at first, but now that the camp is getting more organised, she likes it. She’s been issued with a cycle too– I think that makes a lot of difference.’

Kathleen must have been fairly typical in ruminating on the uncertainty of what awaited her; everything was in flux and nothing certain.

‘It won’t be long before I’m demobbed, but they can’t give me any definite day. Most of our cabin, including the Janes, move out next Wednesday [December 5], so we few who are left shall feel rather lost.’

Thus despite applying for a teacher training place, Kathleen had an open mind about future possibilities, and their pros and cons.

‘I’m trying to get the “gen” on civil airways.

‘We have an officer here who’s on civil airways: he’ll be staying on at the civilian airdrome when this Station closes. Apparently, they’re wanting lots of people, but he doesn’t really know the position regarding girls.

‘Being a R/T [radio transmitter] operator would be quite interesting – talking to the aircraft you know. I suppose it will take a lot to beat teaching, as far as the financial side goes – and that is important.’

She took up her pen the following day to report on the much-awaited dance, which had been a resounding success.

‘It was really good fun! I thoroughly enjoyed myself and danced every dance from beginning to end, including the tango, the rumba, the hokey cokey etc.

‘I was just beginning to wake up about midnight and was sorry it had to end then.

‘One of the Lieutenants came into Ops during the afternoon and said that he hadn’t been able to get a ticket for our dance, so I said “well if you really want to go, say I’ve invited you when you go in”.

‘I wasn’t intending that he should go as my partner; I was only giving him an excuse to get in, however when I went, I found he was waiting for me and after that we danced every dance, which was wonderful as he is a really expert dancer.

‘Just the type of evening I enjoy – so few men ever bothered to learn to dance correctly.’

‘The Padre was dressed in a Captain’s uniform and as he was wearing a mask, it caused some confusion!

‘The Captain came as plain Mr Rollison, in a dinner jacket.

‘One of the Commanders who is very slim and fair, was dressed in a Third Officer’s uniform, complete with black silk stockings, make up and padding!

‘He was terribly funny and nearly caused a riot when he danced with a huge hefty Marine.

‘First Officer and Second Officer were presented with lovely bouquets of flowers – there was much cheering and Singing of “for she’s a jolly good fellow“ – all together the whole evening went with a terrific swing.

‘We ended by singing “Goodbye” – the last war song [i.e. from WW1] – then Auld Lang Syne. It would have been quite sad, if the whole dance hadn’t been so gay.’