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 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, it might appear from the contents of letters exchanged between the Isle of Man and home in Leicester, that Wren Kathleen Oates was more sheltered from certain aspects of the War than were her family on the Home Front. For a start, she had access to certain goods through her position in the Forces, which her family found hard to obtain, so the lack of these featured much less in her letters home, than in those she received. Yet again, she wrote about her social life, pleasant excursions away from the base and trips to the cinema. But she was only 23 years old and it was probably a relief to give light-hearted news instead of some of the flying disasters her previous letters had reported.

Her first letter of the week began on Wednesday March 21 at 1:45p.m. from the Control Tower at Ronaldsway, anticipating that flying would be cancelled due to ‘very thick’ weather: ‘It’s quite early yet – the Heads who pronounce the decision aren’t back from lunch yet’. She had worked till 11pm on Night Flying the previous day, and had treated herself to a slow morning afterwards, ‘staying in bed until after 10 in the morning, then had a bath which was not very enjoyable. The hot water is terrible here – dark brown and really thick, full of sediment. When the water runs out of the bath, the bath is left really black!’ Before going on duty again, she had also enjoyed ‘one of my favourite breakfasts: shredded wheat, beans on fried bread and marmalade’.

Because of the inclement weather, she had shelved plans to ‘get up early and inspect a boat that’s gone aground on the rocks during the mist on Saturday [March 17]. It’s a little Dutch merchantman, but all the crew were taken off successfully.’

That evening, she and fellow plotting Wren Cynthia ‘went to 747 Squadron anniversary dance. It was also a farewell party as about a dozen of them are going back to Ops, including the two with whom Cynthia and I had dinner [the previous week, at the Shore Hotel]. I’ll miss the old crowd – they were a very decent lot on the whole.’

Kathleen remained intrigued by the beached ship, and on a walk with her friend Jane on March 22, ‘we discovered the ship that had gone aground; it was a very tiny one. We watched the Swordfish doing anti-submarine bombing over a target in the sea. They drop smoke flares so that they can see how near they get to the target.’

She returned to the area the next morning: ‘I cycled down to have a closer look at the Dutch ship, and walked over to the rocks and chatted to the Dutch crew. They wanted me to go on board for coffee and a look round – if I had time, I would have done but I had to be on duty by 12:30. Apparently, she’d been going from Plymouth to Glasgow and had gone aground during the fog. They’d tried to refloat her but were thinking that they’d have to blast the rocks before she’d sail away.’

Otherwise, she reported on progress with her evening sewing and leather work classes; she was attempting a folding photo frame in the latter. ‘The machinery was done with an ordinary machine and needle. The instructor is a civilian, who really knows what he’s talking about as regards leather.’

It is interesting to note that each of the letters which were sent to her that week by different family members, reflected the scarcity of some goods in the Leicester area, at least. Mum Elsie commented, when giving details of how she hoped to alter a knitted jerkin of Kathleen’s that, ‘we rarely see any pure wool in the shops – it’s all yarn – a mixture of wool and cotton’.

Sister Dorothy, also attempting leather work at home, triumphantly reported that through her connections, she would acquire a needed element for her project: ‘Mrs Thompson bounced into the office this morning. as large as life. to bring me a zip, which her sister promised to let me have. Now, I only want the leather and then I can make a holdall for mother!’

Chris, her father, remembered that Kathleen had shopped for brown paper for one of the girls in her cabin, and kindly offered to send some, if it were still needed: ‘By the way, I’m collecting sheets of good brown paper. Is there any use sending them on? I noted that you were commissioned to buy some for your colleagues on your last trip to Douglas.’

He commented that ‘the food situation appears to be getting worse instead of better – no more rice or dried milk after existing stocks are sold – so that rationing will be stricter than ever – There’s no surplus of any commodity - Clothing certainly is hard to get - no choice at all anywhere.’

Chris also reflected on the progress of the war and its impact on the Oates family: ‘I’ve just had news of bombers over the north of England last night – no sirens in Leicester, but we are getting our quota of German prisoners here – there is a camp behind Stoughton.’ On a more positive note, he took delight in radio reports on the first crossing of the Rhine. ‘Mr Churchill says the War’s end might well be before the end of summer, so make the most of your being on the Isle of Man then - while the going is good.’