In the summer of 1944 Kathleen Oates - a Wren assigned to the Women's Royal Naval Service during the Second World War - was transferred to the Isle of Man. 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...

Eighty years ago this week, Kathleen Oates remained in the Sick Bay: she painted a vivid picture of the routine there and wrote with the good news that she was very clearly on the mend – but her last letter of the week finished with the upsetting news of a fatality involving a Ronaldsway plane at sea. Sadly, this would not be the last time such news was sent home to Leicester.

Kathleen declared herself to be enjoying the peace in Sick Bay, away from a Nissen hut of twelve girls, grumbling that the girl who owned the radio in the Cabin, had it on all the time. She felt sufficiently well to play Draughts & Ludo with another patient, and also appreciated the view of the sea. ‘We are right on the seafront here, and when I’m up, I just stand and gaze out of the window – wishing I could see a few of the old Liverpool ships go by! As you will have gathered by now, I’m quite happy in sick bay, there’s been an awfully nice collection of girls in and everyone seems sorry to leave!... The RC Padre popped in here last night searching for RCs – We all happened to have thermometers in our mouths and couldn’t say anything! It was really amusing.’

In fact, it seemed that a good deal of chatting went on, now that Kathleen had more energy. ‘We were having a good gossip last night – I was telling them about my experiences on Liverpool ships, especially the Wild Goose [a Navy sloop, famous for the number of U-boats it destroyed; Kathleen had felt honoured to spend a day on it], and they were very envious! One of the girls in at the moment is a Plymouth Brethren and we’ve had some very interesting religious discussions. It’s amazed me to hear how many of the pilots go to church. I remember Ian, one of the young subbies in the Ops room, said to me one day “what are you going to do after the war?“ When I asked him the same question he said, quite seriously, that he was going to be a missionary! I almost laughed; it seems so strange and unexpected, and it was the last thing I could imagine him doing. One keeps getting surprises!’

She went on to give the sickbay schedule. ‘Lights out are at 9 o’clock – and we’re awakened at six in the morning, breakfast at seven. The food is good – I spend all morning in bed – coffee about 10 o’clock and then I get up after lunch.’

Her comments about how other patients were treated continue to reflect the largely pre-antibiotic era of medical care. ‘A girl came to have her warts removed but developed a septic finger the same evening: they gave her gas and removed her fingernail to treat the “nasty” infection, and she spent the night in Sick Bay. But she still had the warts which she came in for!’ The Medical Officer was at the top of the Sick Bay hierarchy, and Kathleen had to abide by his word – as did the other staff, it seems. ‘Sometimes the M.O. doesn’t come till the afternoon, and everyone has to keep tidy and orderly all the while.’

Sister Dorothy had clearly asked Kathleen about the availability of make-up, as she replied with an overview of Isle of Man stocks. The forces sometimes could access supplies unavailable to civilians. ‘The make-up situation is not too good here but I’ll keep my eyes open. They often have Cyclax in the NAAFI and Innoxa. There is a shop in Douglas where one can order Cyclax, Yardley, Arden etc. - supplies are expected about January. I may or may not be here then but I can order it and someone else could collect it.’ – Kathleen was still not sure if she would still be there in 2 months’ time.

Kathleen’s letters home often contained advice to Dorothy as to where she should go, if she were called up. Even though people’s thoughts would sometimes stray to their post-war lives and careers, it seems that recruitment still continued. ‘A girl in the bed opposite me said that her 19-year-old sister reported to Mill Hill two days ago, so they are obviously still taking girls into the Wrens. It amazes me really, especially when nearly all the Fleet has gone East. They must be intending sending more of the Wrens out there because all bases in England seem very well staffed… - although they are still drafting people here.’ She reported a conversation to Dorothy, who had been thinking of nursing if called up. ‘You’d be interested in chatting to these V.A.D.s [voluntary civilians providing nursing care], Dorothy – if you’re thinking of nursing if you’re called up. They’re all under 20 – they have a 6 week course & seem to enjoy life in the Navy. They say it’s not half so good if you’re a V.A.D. in the Army – the pay is poorer, also conditions. Avoid the Civilian Nursing Reserve – because you work in civilian hospitals and have lots of scrubbing & cleaning to do.’

Kathleen also mentioned potential leave in her letter as she was due some, and there might have been talk of her continued convalescence at home, as she improved rapidly through the week. This brought to mind the Isle of Man ferry, which she would have to use: ‘We heard that they hadn’t sailed because the gale had brought in some mines – quite plausible… I’m not looking forward to it at all – nearly everyone is sick. They say the boat just bobs like a cork, & that the waves completely wash the deck. One of the V.A.D.s who came back about 4 days ago – passed out completely because she was so ill!The girl in the bed opposite says she’d rather stay without leave, than face another crossing!’

She also had the energy to take an interest in world affairs: this week 80 years ago, there was also a US presidential election and Kathleen mentioned Roosevelt’s return to the White House on November 7.

The two Janes visited Kathleen daily, bringing not just ironed clean pyjamas, but sad news on the base, which she reported in her letter of November 11.

‘I heard some tragic news this afternoon from the Janes. One of the Barracudas failed to return from exercises this morning – it dived straight into the sea. The pilot and gunner managed to get out into the dinghy but the observer went down! I have still to hear details of what happened, but I think they failed to pull out of a dive. I guess there’d be plenty of panic in the control tower. I’ve watched them go out every day – I can see them fly by the window – the Barracudas, and the Swordfish that follows to photograph the exercise. It’s amazing how fond one can get of “things”. I felt very sorry to hear of the crash, because it’s our first up to now, apart from the prang on the runway [where no-one was hurt].’

Kathleen had been due some leave and the following week she took it and returned home to Leicester. The next time she wrote home would be on November 22, with an account of her return journey to the Isle of Man.