First let me state that I would not have missed my stint in the Wrens for anything. My recollections are still very clear in my mind of Galt, Ontario and basic training in February.

One day we were on parade in all our winter attire when a Wren had to make a hasty retreat as her undergarments had come adrift! So much for buttons instead of elastic, a wartime inconvenience, It took all the disciples we could muster to keep our eyes straight ahead and the grins off our faces.

Oh, and the gig... not many smiles here! While collecting garbage we got the wheels stuck in the snow and also we kept having to chase Kleenex all over the parade grounds.

One of my billets while stationed at "Bytown" Ottawa was in Kingsmill House, the former home of MacKenzie King. This house has low windows with a fire escape rambling up beside them. One night there was aloud scream from one of the Wrens, who had seen a man's foot appear through an open window. After the police were called, we stood on the balcony awaiting results. I saw a light going around in the garden. I spoke up and said, "Why don't you go away and leave us alone!" The answer came. "Quiet, Lady, I AM the police." The intruder, a man from Hull, was caught as he slid down a coal chute into the basement. He had apparently been observing us on numerous occasions from the fire escape while we had our showers. He had also stolen our underwear off the washing line.

We didn't lack excitement at Kingsmill House. Another night I awoke to hear Betty C. in the lower bunk opposite mine saying over and over, "Now, take it easy, don't jump." I couldn't imagine what was happening. It turned out Margaret G. was poised to jump out of her top bunk, which was above mine. Yes, she was asleep- until she hit the floor, that is. She was none the worse for it, thank goodness! We got her back in bed and strapped her in. Next day I changed bunks with her. All she did after that was sleepwalk a few times, much to our relief!