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Wings Over Wick
Pam Dickson, Alloa, Clackmannanshire
I remember Wick with affection but my most enduring memory is the intense cold. As WAAFs we lived in the married quarters an the aerodrome and we were allocated a ration of coal to heat the house but this only seemed to last for about two days out of each week.
A quiet interesting man, who was in charge of our Section at this time, was a Sergeant Hardie. This man smoked and collected Meerschaum pipes and used to speak of an ancestor of his who was the boy model for the Blue Boy. The Flight Sergeant of Stores used to entertain - if that is the word - by telling us ghost stories with just a blue bulb in the light socket just to make things a bit eerier.
Also there at that time was a young airman who wanted to be a concert pianist. He used to practise in the YMCA hut whenever he had a spare minute and long after the war had finished I used to listen on the radio and later watch television to see if he had made the grade. Indeed he did - because sitting watching TV one evening, Miss Joyce Grenfell introduced her concert pianist Mr William Blezzard, in fact, just our Bill, of Wick drome.
We used to go into the town quite a bit. We went to dances in a hall, ate a glorious meal of steak, egg and chips in a tiny cafe up a stair and sailed in the harbour on the Air, Sea Rescue boat. They had a note pinned up saying - If you are seasick clean it up or pay someone else 2/6d to do it". As 2/6d was a lot of money in these days, there weren't many people who were sick!