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My stories revolve around the Swansea and Neath area of Wales. I was 18 years old and thought I was a “woman of the world”, well Wales at least. At 18 I started nurse training at a hospital in Swansea and at first the War did not intrude too much except having to put up the blackout and as a how to use a stirrup pump and how to deal with my patients!

But in February 1941 reality arrived — between Neath and Swansea lay the port of Swansea and nearer to Neath an oil refinery both prime targets for the Luftwaffe! Well, one night they missed the oil refinery but devastated Swansea instead! My job that day was to collect patients from Swansea hospital which had suffered bomb damage and take them to Neath Hospital. We arrived in Swansea, myself and my driver a French woman, in our canvas covered ambulance containing 2 stretchers only to find the road impassable. My driver did not know the area at all but I thought I knew the town very well. This was until I saw debris stretching for as far as the eye could see with no landmarks standing. I looked down at what was left of the pavement and I saw the word “Boots” written in mosaics, which had been a large building, now demolished and so knew where we were. This brought home to me the devastation of war, just 19 and I no longer thought I knew it all.

There were many more episodes of bombing — once on the maternity ward I had dragged 2 cots outside onto the landing and heard a noise overhead of 2 planes fighting. I quickly dragged the cots back inside but fortunately they flew away over the Bay.

Then the Americans came bringing nylons and cookies and turning many girls’ heads! But for me, I stuck with my lisle stockings as my boyfriend was away fighting in North Africa. My boyfriend told me one story of his time there — he was sitting on a balcony and heard the sound of music — it turned out to be a group of Welshmen singing beautifully!

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