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, it would be exactly six months since Kathleen Oates transferred from HMS Irwell, as her Liverpool posting was called, to HMS Urley, the Navy name for the Fleet Air Arm’s base at Ronaldsway, on August 22, 1944. Although she could not be totally certain that she would never be drafted away from the Isle of Man, she was increasingly settled there.

In fact, she even thought of Castletown as ‘home’, the realisation dawning on her after a shopping trip to Douglas with her two friends ‘the Janes’, where she had been looking in vain to buy a dress. It was not a wasted trip, however, as she returned laden with requests from her colleagues. ‘I also did shopping for the remainder of the cabin, which included brown paper and string, two hair shampoos, a bottle of Ronsol oil (lighter fluid) and some soap! I also bought you a tin of Mansion polish, Mum, which I will include in my next parcel home.’

Kathleen was not tempted to linger in town, however, ‘I caught the earliest train back, as Douglas itself has no charm at all for me. It’s dingy and shabby, and generally depressing! I like the wide bay and that’s all. It’s surprising how one looks upon Castletown as “home”; this camp certainly does seem like home to me.’ That evening, she had hoped to go to an E.N.S.A. concert in the cinema (Entertainments National Service Association, set up at the outbreak of the War), but the hall was full, so she went to the British Legion canteen instead.

The letter began on February 18, with a description of the weather, ‘Sunday afternoon and again it chooses to be a very miserable day with a thick mist and foghorn blowing all the while. Yesterday was the same – there was no flying and so the mail plane didn’t come in and I didn’t get my usual Saturday letter - if there was one for me!’

‘Last Thursday afternoon (February 15) was another lovely day – they keep popping up occasionally. I went for a walk this time, following the river from Castletown to Ballasalla. The sun was shining on the fields and it was most spring-like. There are lots of lambs here – little black ones frisking about the fields. I called in at Ballasalla canteen – it’s a long while now since I’ve been there and I’d hate it if I had to return to Ballasalla camp again; I like my cabin at Castletown so very much.’

When the mist cleared, however, work could get very busy, as happened on Monday February 19. ‘I’ve had a really hectic afternoon – on duty from 12:30 till 5:30p.m., and not still a minute – answering the phone, reacting to the loudspeaker – rushing to the blackboard - and the girl even forgot to bring a cup of tea!! I don’t feel in the mood for going out this evening. We may be back again on Night Flying before long. One of the Subbys (Sub Lieutenant) is on draft - and if he doesn’t get a replacement, we’ll be called upon, I suppose.’

The domestic tone continued, with a description of Kathleen’s Castletown cabin and why she liked it so much. ‘In one way, I prefer life in a Nissen Hut, to quarters. Here we have a fire that we can sit round and talk – in quarters, you have to go into the General Rec [recreation room] if you want to sit by a fire. I wish you could peep in - and see what a general jumble we live in! Washing over the chairs round the fire – cups and cutlery in odd places – bunks strewn with clothes & other articles – various calendars stuck round the walls, untidy collections of bottles & books on our chests of drawers. It looks tidy about once a day when whoever’s turn it is, has swept it! We’ve several very untidy people in the cabin, so it’s soon upset again.’

From there, Kathleen turned to describing recent meals in the canteen, which were of mixed quality. ‘There’s chips and bacon in the Mess tonight so everyone will be in for supper’ – just as well after a ‘terrible lunch – dehydrated meat, boiled potatoes and peas’, redeemed only by stewed apricots. However, there had been an orange at supper the night before – the second that week.

She signed off with a request for black stockings from home to be sent to her – ‘we are having a kit inspection soon and I have to produce three pairs of stockings’ and repeated her urgent need for a comb as well.

A second letter that week described a happy break in the weather when Kathleen was able to get out once more. Having the morning off on February 20, she went to Taggarts in Castletown for material that sister Dorothy had requested for a nightdress – Kathleen’s chits, allocated to those in the Forces, would be used for this. ‘ I’m very sorry but they haven’t any crepe de chine left, and the only other lingerie material they had was satin and I didn’t think you’d like that. I’ll keep on the lookout for you and when they get some material in, I’ll buy it as I can spare you six coupons.” Dorothy was also in need of clothes to wear in her office job in Leicester. In fact, clothing was passed around in the family: mum Elsie wrote to Kathleen that an unwanted dress of hers had been passed onto an aunt, who would ‘find it useful for morning wear’.

A sunny day meant that Kathleen could spend more time outdoors after shopping: ‘I went for a cycle ride as it was a lovely morning. I cycled down along the Langness peninsula and looked back onto the airfield and watched all the planes landing and taking off.” Later that week, she planned to go for a cycle ride in the evening, if there was a moon, as she was feeling impoverished: ‘I can’t afford to spend any money as I’m on an overdraft into next week’s pay, after buying my new shoes’.

More spending was planned for the next month. ‘I’ve made an appointment to have my hair permed on March 10. It will be a Eugène, costing 40 shillings for an all over. How does that compare with prices in Leicester? They do a steam perm for 30 shillings, but I imagine the Eugène will be best.’

Towards the end of the week, a reassuring letter from home announced that they were sending a parcel with stockings, a comb, apples and oranges.

Because it was ‘impossible to buy one, either in the shops or the market’, father Chris was sending his own comb.

Kathleen had another letter from Margaret, an old Leicester schoolfriend, who worked for the council, dealing with children in care, complaining of current difficulties. ‘We seem particularly short of prospective foster homes just now. We put an advertisement in the paper last week which has not produced much up to now as most of the people who have come to enquire have thought it was something to do with the Dutch children who have come over to England and when they learn that they are plain common or garden English children, they’re not so sure they want to bother.’

Small wonder that the Dutch children which Mum Elsie had heard singing on the radio the previous week had made such an impact. A Pathé newsreel of that week, with the dramatic title, ‘Orphans of the Storm’, had shown the children’s journey to the UK for a 3-month convalescence, making the point that they might be having their first balanced meal in a long while.

In response to Kathleen’s description of life at Ronaldsway, Margaret replied, ‘I’m glad to know that life is bearable with you, even if not exciting’. Excitement at Ronaldsway tended not to be of the good sort and Kathleen must have been glad to have another quiet but very pleasant week.