We began to plan our wedding for March 20 1943. Meanwhile I had been directed to the Royal Ordnance Factory at Radway Green. The choices were, Bus Conductress, ‘Ugh’ WAAF (Women’s branch of the RAF), ATS. (Woman’s branch of the Army) WRENS (Women’s branch of the Navy), The Women’s Land Army, this was what I wanted, but was over-ruled by mum who wanted me to stay at home to live.
When I went for my interview at Radway Green, after filling in particulars of what had been doing in civilian life, (Managing a shop) I was sent to a Captain Graham for an aptitude test. This involved fairly basic arithmetic and writing. “Please report to the offices on the Proof Range on Sunday morning and ask for Mr. Davies”, I was told. I was very pleased by the fact that I was not going into the factory or having to do shift work. The first Sunday consisted of getting to know each other and the various departments.
The Proof Range was a little world on its own. We worked office hours 9-5 through the week but had to go every Sunday Morning. We caught the shift workers early bus on that day and came back with them at 2pm. Later when spring came I cycled and was able to get home for lunch each day. We were ‘allowed’ to use the Staff Canteen. The factory workers had their own canteen, long tables and benches. We had tables with cloths on and chairs! Goodness knows what the ‘Higher Staff Canteen’ was like, that was for the ‘Top Brass’, how disgusting. I found myself in the Diagram Office with Ethel Hancock. She lived in Tunstall with her widowed mother and two sisters Jessie and Irene. Jessie’s husband was a prisoner of the Japanese, and Irene worked at the Swinnerton Ordnance Factory. On the Proof Range, firing was going on most of the time, testing the ammunition on various indoor ranges. We became quite used to it, apart from the machine gun, which really was impossible to ignore!
The work that Ethel and I had to do consisted of walking to the end of the 500 yards range. This was a path cut through the fields. At the end were two small brick buildings almost side by side. They were called ‘mantlets’. This end of the operation was presided over by two elderly men, Ted Holt and Jim Booth. Inside the mantlets were two desks and opposite each desk a slit window. The two men had already put the targets in place. They were about ten feet high and about four feet wide. Opposite No.l mantlet the target was paper for armour piercing ammunition. Opposite No.2 mantlet the target was solid metal for mark 7 soft noted ammo. On our desks we had a facsimile of the target. Back at the other end of the range a man was going to fire 20 rounds of, lets say the armour piercing ammo. We had to mark on our diagrams exactly where the shots landed then measure each as to its distance from the ‘bull’. The figures were then entered in a column, added and divided by 20, you then had the average figure. We then moved to the next mantlet to do the same with the soft nosed ammo. All this did not happen without a lot of safety precautions. Each mantlet had on the roof, a very large round metal sign, red on one side and green on the other. It was reversible from the inside. A large red flag was flying on the building that housed the targets when they were not in use. The men also had a field telephone so that they could be in touch with the msn whose finger was ‘on the button’. When all were safely inside and ready, the men would telephone to base and turn the sign on the roof to green. It was a very eerie feeling, the fact that someone was firing behind you, and sometimes, if the ammo were a poor batch several would hit the wall behind your chair. That was very eerie indeed! Of course, it was impossible for them to penetrate a thick brick wall at least that was what we always believed, When I told Stan what I was doing he was horrified and thought that I’d got more chance of being shot than he had!
However, when the batch of work had come to an end and the men had firmly established via the phone that it was safe to emerge, the sign was turned to red (just in case) and we went round to their little nook where they had their break and possibly whiled away a few hours with cards etc. This must have happened because some days we would be finished with the work in about two hours. Occasionally, we had a batch in the morning and another in the afternoon but not very often. When the work was completed we went to have a cup of their tea, and if it was a warm sunny day we sat on the grass in the sunshine talking. They were very kind old men. I say ‘old’ because at my age of 22, they looked like everybody’s grandfathers. When the weather became colder we sat by their fire. I have to say that I was too young to appreciate all this sitting around, I wanted to be up and doing.
Meanwhile I was making arrangements for our wedding. It was to be at St. Mary’s Church, the curate the Rev Trevor Bowen was to officiate. The reception was to be at the Lawton Arms. The landlady was Mrs. Byron. We had to leave it to her to do the best she could with whatever she could get. Friends helped out.
Mrs. Wardle, who lived in Vale View next door to Stan, made the cake. She was a domestic science teacher and took all the Clarke’s under her wing after the parents died. There was a brick wall with ivy on the top dividing the two properties and Mrs. Wardle often climbed on the step ladder at her side with something delicious that the had made for Noel, Stan and Kathleen. She was a very good cook and when the offering was a piping hot stack of pancakes, she was very welcome indeed. She quickly took Nora and I under her wing also. I think she had ambitions to fatten me up, but of course she did not succeed, as I never have had a large appetite. I well remember once when Stan and Noel and Joe were all on leave together, this did not happen often and Mrs. Wardle decided that a celebration was called for. We were all invited for an evening meal. There were six of us plus Mrs. Wardle and her two sisters in law. Mr. Wardle was a teacher; his name was Charles. I met him a few times but he was a very sick man then. He had been a good pianist and when I went to Vale View with Stan on Wednesday afternoons we could hear Charlie playing lovely melodies quite quietly. He and May had no children but his spinster sister Lily also a teacher, lived with them. When I knew her she was very crippled as the result of an accident in the playground when a running child had knocked her down. I don’t think she ever worked again. Then when the other sister, Mrs. Crump became a widow she too came to live with May and Charles. The two sisters were always referred to as ‘the girls’! They seemed terribly old to be called ‘girls’.
Charles died soon after we were married, and on this night in question there were nine of us. In the centre of the table was the most enormous steak and kidney pie that I have ever seen. In fact you could say that it was magnificent. It really demanded to be photographed for a cookery book. The pastry was perfectly golden and glossy, obviously it had been well brushed with beaten egg before cooking, and the top was covered with perfect pastry leaves. Mrs. Wardle was justly proud of it and we all showed our appreciation. No one asked how she had managed to get the steak and kidney in such a large quantity. She had been ordering for the school from the same butcher for years, so no doubt he looked after her! When the pie was cut, thick brown rich gravy and vast quantities of tender steak and kidney was revealed. If only I could have had a small portion! Mrs. Wardle had never heard of small portions. When my plate was put before me my one thought was, ‘how on earth am I going to eat all this!’ I struggled mightily. Everyone else was tucking in and thoroughly enjoying themselves. Of course I was the last to finish, in fact I could not manage it all. Stan knew how I was feeling and said, “delicious as it is I think you’ve over estimated Brenda’s appetite, and he took my plate away. I apologised for not eating it all, while agreeing that it was indeed lovely. I was so thankful to have that plate taken away. I determined then that never ever would I expect anyone to eat more than they were comfortable with.
Then came the pudding! Again, it was gigantic, a ginger sponge drenched with golden syrup, and accompanied by a quart jug of custard. I did ask for ‘just a small portion please’, but it was still more than I wanted. Such a pity because great effort had gone into making a truly superb meal and I’m sure Mrs. Wardle thought ‘all young people can eat a lot, especially in these days of shortages’. When we got home I said to Stan “I don’t want to eat for a week at least”! He said, “knew you were in difficulties, so I did my best, she does kill you with kindness though.”