Thanks Mom
A sly smile upon her face, my mom leads me into the crowded recruiting station.
How lucky am I?
Just yesterday we were debating this, and today she’s going through with it.
Surrounded by men in smart uniforms, I look around at all the hustle and bustle.
“Why do you want to join the flying corps Grace?” she had asked me yesterday.
“I like the uniforms.”
“Oh, you ought to have a better excuse than that!”
Yet, here we are!
She looks around before tugging the crisp brown uniform of a man hurrying by.
“Where is the women’s flying corps recruiter?” she demands from this clearly rushed cute soldier with polished buttons, a sharp collar, and pressed tunic.
He stops in his tracks, looks at her, then at me, and shrugs his shoulders before blurting out, “I’ve no idea Ma’am, I am lost here myself.”
“Well dear, let’s find out where we’re going together.”
The hurried fresh-faced soldier in smart attire pauses, looks around, then nervously runs off in the original direction he was heading.
Poor chap, going off to war but unable to face a woman.
Turning to mom, I smile and giggle.
She squeezes my hand, “That won’t help dear.”
I resolve my face before turning left where I’m delighted to spot a sign reading WOMEN VOLUNTEERS at the end of the hall.
“This way mom!” I exclaim while dragging her hand behind me as I head toward the sign.
This is it, we’ve found it!
We enter a small, practically empty room where another uniformed man sits behind a desk strewn with a small stack of forms. He looks up from a book as we disturb his peace.
“Which of you is volunteering today?” he says in a kind voice.
“I am,” I call out in reply as his eyes divert from mom toward me, taking their time as they work up my skirt-covered legs.
Like what you see?
“How old are you, Miss?”
“I’m 17, Sir,” I reply, knowing full well that is the minimum age to volunteer with parental consent.
Do you believe me?
His eye-based assessment of me continues, pausing at my chest before rising to my face.
He turns to mom. “Are you this girl’s mother?” he asks.
“Yes, Sir,” she offers back in her most graceful voice.
“Ma’am, can you vouch for this girl’s age?”
“Indeed Sir, she is 17, has been for about one month now.”
He turns away from mom to look me over again. His eyes halt at my face, then my chest again, before finally returning to my face.
I know I’m not large, but I’m mature.
“Alright,” he says with a sigh. “Please fill this out and bring it back to me.”
I look down at the form he hands me. It’s for the Women’s Land Army.
I don’t want to work the land; I want to fly!
“Sir, is there a form for the Women’s Royal Air Force? That is my preference.”
Looking down through his pile, he pulls a form out from the bottom.
“Last one, I’m afraid.”
“I’ll take it!” I blurt out, potentially exposing my over eagerness to volunteer.
Form in hand, he holds it back as his eyes give me another once over, again stopping at my chest.
“When did you say your birthday was?” he asks.
Is he on to me?
A bead of sweat slowly makes it way down my right temple.
“A little less than one month ago, Sir,” I reply, attempting to hide my nerves.
Another moment’s pause, then he hands me the form. “Please fill it out in the hall and hand it back to me.”
Yes! It worked!
Mom pulls me into the hall as I look over the form. She drags me away from the door so that we are against the far wall.
“Grace, the right date will be 1901.”
“Yes, mom, thank you.”
I’m going to get to wear the uniform!
*****
British Women Volunteers
http://www.treasurebunker.com/forums/index.php?showtopic=1788
Grace Hallen’s mother accompanied her to the recruiting station on May 10, 1918 so Grace could join the Women’s Royal Air Force (WRAF). The minimum age for volunteers with parents’ permission was 17. Grace, a mature 15-year-old, was enthusiastic about being around aircraft and loved the uniforms. Since birth certificates were not used for recruiting, and her mother was willing to lie for her, Grace was allowed into the WRAF.
She served through the remainder of the war, alongside over 32,000 other women in the British military air arm of World War I. This force was dissolved in 1920, and reconstituted in 1939 as the Women’s Auxiliary Air Force for World War II. It was renamed the WRAF again in 1949 and fully integrated with the Royal Air Force in 1994.