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...

Kathleen, now happy in her friendships and at work, continued her pursuit of another flight in a plane. In fact, a large proportion of her letters, sent 80 years ago this week, was about Ronaldsway’s planes and those who rode in them.

There had been a few near misses in her quest: 'I haven’t been up again – sigh! sigh! Ian – one of our new Subbys [junior officer] – was telling me today that he went up in a Swordfish this morning, photographing the island. They climbed up in circles to over 10,000 feet – should have had oxygen, actually, but they hadn’t. I’d like to go up in a Swordfish again. We were only very low all the while whilst we were photographing the destroyer.'

And then again, later: 'Just missed another flip [plane ride] in a Swordfish this afternoon. One was going up on a Met trip and Ian arranged for me to go – then the Wren Officer in the Meteorological Office decided she ought to go – so I’d had it! It doesn’t seem so easy as I first thought to get flips – but I would like to go up in a Barracuda before I leave.'

It seems that the idea of no oxygen and the possibility of a mishap were not off-putting. On October 10, Kathleen reported: 'Mild Control Tower excitement today when a plane pancaked flat without its undercarriage down… no-one was hurt luckily.

‘The pilot had no idea of how low he was flying and hadn’t tried to lower the undercarriage. He hit the runway flat and bumped along quite a way before finally coming to rest.'

One didn’t need to be in the air to experience problems with planes. Kathleen recounted a narrow escape when she cycled across the duty runway when returning from yet another attempt to go up in a Barracuda.

This didn’t happen as the pilot had thought they were W/T [wireless transmitter] Wrens who were going to test the radio, and when this was not the case, they couldn’t go.

'We did, however, excel ourselves by cycling across the Duty Runway when returning! There’s usually a van to mark which runway the planes are using – but we didn’t see one and blithely cycled on! The first indication we had was a plane flying low over our heads! All this was observed by “Flying Control,” and the officer sent for us to tell us not to do it again!! We should have stayed on the extreme edge of the airfield and cycled round the perimeter track – we live and learn though! I believe it is a favourite failing of Wrens.'

She went on to describe the type of people with whom she worked in the Control Tower, and how the war had affected them.

'One very “nice” Sub-Lieutenant had only just been remarking that he wished something exciting would happen – such as a few “prangs” (crashes). He had skipped his pilot’s course because he’d had several crashes.

‘Most of the administrative staff are people who’ve crashed or who have done so much flying that they’ve developed “twitch” – a sort of flying nerves.

‘They get to such a state that they just can’t go up again – so they’re grounded or sent out on Carriers for non-flying duties. Most interesting hearing how it affects people – twitch is officially recognised by the Admiralty & there are lots of “Admiralty Fleet Orders” about it. Whitey is a twitch case I believe – although he wants to go to sea again on a Carrier.'

Lieutenant Whiteaker was due to be drafted elsewhere, and Kathleen would miss him: 'Unfortunately he’s leaving in about 12 days’ time – trying to get a draft to sea. I’ll be very sorry if he goes, because he’s a grand boss; couldn’t have anyone better!'

'Now there are two of us [the other plotting Wren having arrived], we’ve had a proper watch rota drawn up. One day, we work from 8:30-12:30, then from 6:30 till whenever Night Flying ends, and the next day from 12:30 till 6:30. It isn’t too bad, except for 6:30 till the end of Night Flying which may be anywhere around 2 in the morning!

However, I’m not going to grumble yet – it may be relaxed later on. I’ve a lot to be thankful for really – all the people with whom I work are so decent – I don’t have to call any of them “Sir”. I now know all the Subbys by their Christian names & we all get along very well. I’ve had more laughs here than anywhere else where I’ve worked... You’d love to hear all the stories of near misses and flying accidents – there’s nothing I like better than to listen to them yarning together.'

Kathleen’s family in Leicester regularly sent newspaper cuttings they considered relevant, and she commented on articles about demobbing: 'It seems unbelievable that I might be back at the office [in Leicester] when the war in Germany is over.

‘Maybe I’ll volunteer for overseas then… As much as I dislike the Wrens at times, I don’t feel like leaving the service yet.'

She had taken a cut in her wages when she changed her work from that of Writer to Plotter and discussed her pay: 'We’ve just been paid in the Mess – I’m back on specialised again – £1/18.

‘I’m on this for three months now before getting higher specialised – all the rest of my pals are getting £2/8 – that’s higher specialised, which I gave up to change category.'

In her free time, she continued to explore the Island, with a trip to Ramsay on Saturday, October 7.

It was not a great success with a 'terrifically long journey on the train from Douglas, over an hour and a half. We hadn’t a lot of time for looking round; we wandered down the main street, round the harbour and along the front. There are a lot of “Aliens” there still and we couldn’t go right along the promenade.

‘The hills around are lovely, otherwise I wasn’t very thrilled. I think Castletown has the nicest harbour and town that I’ve seen here (I call it a town because it isn’t exactly a village.) We were in Douglas again by about 8 o’clock in the evening and went to the YWCA for some supper. Sightseeing is very difficult here in wartime – the trains are so hopeless.'

She signed off, explaining: 'My letter came to a sudden end last night when the “Officer of the Watch” came round and popped the light off. I’m trying to finish it this morning before flying begins… This evening, Jane and I are going to pop into the village hop.

‘Actually, it’s a camp dance being held in the parish hall. I don’t expect we’ll stay long, as it will be all ratings presumably – however, it will be a change from letter writing!'