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Maddie was stationed at Oakway to begin with, very convenient to home. This was late 1939, early 1940. The Phoney War. Nothing much happening.

Not in Britain anyway. We were biting our nails, practising.

Waiting.

Telephonist

‘You! Girl in the blue cardigan!’

Five girls in headsets looked round from their switchboards, pointed to their chests and mouthed silently, Me?

‘Yes, you! Aircraftwoman Brodatt! What are you doing here? You’re a licensed radio operator!’

Maddie pointed to her headset and the front cord she was about to connect.

‘Take the damned thing off and answer me.’

Maddie turned back to her switchboard and coolly plugged in the front cord. She toggled the appropriate keys and spoke clearly into the headset. ‘The Group Captain is through to you now, sir. You may go ahead.’ She took off the headset and turned back to the troll who was waiting for a reply. It was the chief flight instructor for Oakway’s Royal Air Force squadron, the man who had given Maddie her flight test nearly a year ago.

‘Sorry, sir. This is where I’ve been posted, sir.’ (I did say it was like being at school.)

‘Posted! You’re not even any of you in uniform!’

Five dutiful Aircraftwomen First Class straightened their Air Force blue cardigans.

‘We’ve not been issued full dress, sir.’

‘Posted!’ the officer repeated. ‘You’ll start in the radio room tomorrow, Aircraftwoman Brodatt. The operator’s assistant is down with influenza.’ And he lifted the headset from her console to perch it precariously over his own large head. ‘Put me through to the WAAF administration unit,’ he said. ‘I want to talk to your Section Officer.’

Maddie flipped the keys and plugged in the cords and he gave her posting orders over her own telephone.

Radio Operator

‘Tyro to ground, tyro to ground,’ came the call from the training aircraft. ‘Position uncertain, overhead triangular body of water to east of corridor.’

‘Ground to tyro,’ answered Maddie. ‘Is it a lake or a reservoir?’

‘Say again?’

‘Lake or reservoir? Your triangular body of water.’