Virtual
War Memorial
Australia

........ In 1942, I enrolled and later was enlisted in the Women’s Australian Auxiliary Air Force, and went to Melbourne to do my Rookies and Cook's Courses. Imagine leaving the tropical climate of Mount Morgan and arriving to the chill of Melbourne in mid-winter! On reaching Spencer Street railway station, we were lined up by a Sergeant, and with all our luggage marched to No.1 WAAAF Training Depot at Latrobe Street, West Melbourne. After being given a meal, we were lined up again, this time for the Medical Section. Firstly, to have our blood taken from the lobe of our ears to establish our blood type. Feeling the cold so much, we had to stand in a queue in the sun, rubbing the lobe of our ears to get the circulation moving.

This over, we were then issued with the wonderful "palliasse" and shown where the bales of straw were. One old hand whispered to me not to over-fill the palliasse, as it had to be folded each morning with our blankets wrapped around it. It really was a great sight to see all the beds in line with blankets folded and spare shoes and kit bag at the bottom of the bed. What fun it was painting our numbers on the kit bags. I am afraid I was no artist! One of the most famous pieces of dress was the men's RAAF jeans, which fitted where they touched. How cute we looked in these and our little blue berets. Later, we were issued with WAAAF jeans, which did fit, and looked quite smart.

Things moved from Day One. After breakfast, out on the parade ground for physical training, where we found we had muscles we never knew existed. From the parade ground to lectures on Air Force procedure. Being so cold when dinner was over, it was shower time, and into bed to try to get warm. Imagine thirty women in one hut, all chatting at the same time. Lights out at 10 o'clock, and up the next day at 6 am. The only time we had off was from lunch time on Saturday to Sunday night, which meant we could never go to the shops.

This was where the "good old Sallies" came to the rescue. Every Wednesday night, the Welfare Officer would come up to the barracks. If anyone wanted shopping done, they could go to the recreation room, and give their order to the Salvation Army Officer together with their money, and she would return on Friday night with our purchases. On Friday nights also, the mobile soup kitchen run by the Sallies would pay us a visit, which was very well received and appreciated.

Once we started our Cook's Course which was held at the William Angliss Trade School next to the Barracks, we had to line up each morning for an inspection of our hands. As we were handling food and meat, any cuts on our hands were taboo. One day the course was at the Butcher's Shop, and the next, in the Pastry Shop. In the Butcher's Shop, we were taught firstly how to sharpen our knives, and then how to dissect a sheep and later a bullock. It was heavy work, but everyone seemed to enjoy what they were doing. In the Pastry Shop, puddings were made in seven pound prune tins, and all these were dispatched to No.2 STT (School of Technical Training) for the trainees' meals.

This routine lasted for eight weeks; then came our practical course. Up at 3.30 am, leave at 4 am, and walk up to the Exhibition Buildings to start to prepare breakfast for 2,000 airmen. Half of the girls went on this shift, while the other half came on at lunch time to prepare the dinner at night. It was good to have your mate on the alternate shift, as the one who went home after lunch could get both beds ready including the trusty hot water bottles.

After the practical course was finished, we all eagerly waited with bated breath for our postings. I was fortunate to be posted to No.3 STT at Ultimo in Sydney. Having done Home Science at High School, and holding an Invalid Cookery Certificate, I was sent to the Station Sick Quarters at Double Bay - a beautiful private home known as Rona, taken over by the Air Force for the duration of the war. The view was magnificent, overlooking both Double Bay and Rose Bay. The Air Force had also requisitioned the Astra and Pacific Hotels at Bondi; we were billeted at the Astra.

A routine soon emerged. Each morning we would go down the hill from the Astra and catch the bus, travelling through Vaucluse and Rose Bay to Double Bay, alighting at the stop opposite Scots College. Then we walked up Fairfax Road to Rona, our home for the day. After several weeks, a cottage was fixed up in the grounds for the early morning Duty Cook, and the old stables were renovated for the Sisters' quarters.

There were slit trenches in the grounds, and when the siren went, irrespective of one's mustering, all hands got to the plough, and brought the patients out into the trenches. After the "all clear", back to bed for the patients, and down to the kitchen for all available staff to make dixies full of cocoa to help settle the patients down. We were a very happy family there.

Once I was fully installed in my little cottage, I would go over to the hospital at night time and take over the orderly room to assist the nursing orderlies, preparing the ward and bed states and answering the switchboard, before getting the girls’ supper and off to bed.

Whenever there was any service balls, we all went in one group; the ambulance drivers and tender drivers being our escorts. We certainly worked very hard and long at Rona, but we played equally hard. The Women's Weekly was very good to the service women. One of David Jones' shops was taken over and made into a club where, for a small fee, we could stay for the night, have meals, and do our washing and ironing. Every Friday night, a dance was organised when the boys were allowed to attend. These were our fun nights; a break from the ever-present reminders of the war at Rona.

However, pleasant memories of Rona come flooding back to me every April Fool's Day. On that day in 1943, the orderly room corporal announced that Sister wanted everyone up in the vestibule at 1.30 pm. I was in my Paris fashion cook's uniform - men's white trousers with button-up flies, white coat, white cap and apron. Up we all trooped, wondering who was going to be put on the carpet. A chair sat in the vestibule, and to my alarm, as I could not imagine what I had done wrong, I was told to sit in it.

Next thing, I was blindfolded and after a short time the blindfold was removed, and all the staff sang "for she's a jolly good fellow". Lo and behold, on the arm of my coat had been placed corporal's stripes made of sticking plaster. Being April Fool's Day, I did not know whether to believe it or not, so I waited until I saw it in print next day before I went down to the Stores to collect my stripes. There is something about getting your corporal's stripes; to me it was one of my proudest moments.

After a severe bout of pneumonia on the seriously ill list at 113th AGH (Australian General Hospital), Concord, it was recommended on my recovery that I be re-mustered to a lighter job. While waiting for a decision, I worked in the medical orderly room at the 113th as a clerk. Finding the work agreeable, I applied for re-muster to a clerk. It was a sad decision to have to make. I loved my job at Rona, and loved the staff. It was therefore with much sadness that I said good-bye to this stage of my Air Force life.

My application for re-muster was approved, and I was posted to 4 STT Adelaide for a four months course. This was a new experience of learning for me, but also a very happy one. Adelaide holds some very fond memories for me, as the Padre there saw to it that all the girls were able to meet with church families who really became second families to us.

At the end of the course, once again was the wait for postings to come through. During this time, I worked in the Post Office. The big day finally arrived, and I was posted to RAAF Headquarters - Records, at Chapel Street, Prahran, with the option of living out. It took no time to settle into the new job and new environment, and make new friends. What a thrill it was for us girls from the bush to be able to go and view the running of the Melbourne and Caulfield Cups, which were held on a Saturday during the war.

One of my jobs at RAAF Headquarters was to update the numbers of personnel on strength in every mustering, from the lists of all airmen or women who were killed, died of illness or re-mustered. From these records, it could be decided if enlistments were necessary for specific musterings. When I regularly received notice of young men being killed, it really brought the reality of war home to me.

Of great interest at Records was what would be equivalent to today's computers. It was a massive mechanical instrument using punch cards. From the different shaped holes and signs on the cards, the Warrant Officer in charge could tell almost everything about a person's service life and his personal history. To us mere mortals, it was just another card system, but to those who operated the machine, it was really something; a forerunner in the post-war computer boom.

In August 1945, the war was coming to a climax in the Pacific. With the dropping of the atomic bomb, it was felt that the end was near at hand. Things were tense at Prahran, and on the morning of August 15, there was an ominous silence around RAAF Headquarters. Later in the day, when it was announced that the war was over, Melbourne went wild. We finished work and went into the city. When nearing Flinders Street station, there was a solid mass of bodies; all dancing, laughing, some crying with excitement. I thought after a while the best place to be would be at home.

Next day normality returned to RAAF Headquarters, and our jobs became increasingly hectic with servicemen and women applying for demobilisation. The next few months were extremely busy for us, as people thought the sooner they were out, the better chance they had of getting a position in civilian life. .......

An extract from Carter (nee Turner), Ivy, Brisbane 1994, From Birth to Old Age: A WAAAF's Story by Cookie-T, An Entry in the Queensland Ex-Service Literary, Art, Craft & Photography Competition, 1994, Section 4: Literary, Category 2: True Life, pp. 1-8.