‘Two or three weeks ago, a hundred young women between the ages of nineteen and thirty-five sat an intelligence test and then were put through an extremely rigorous programme to test their physical fitness. Some of those who passed the intelligence test failed the physical, but to our pleasure just over fifty of you – the young women in this room now – passed both intelligence and physical tests with flying colours. Congratulations.’ He smiled slightly, and for the first time Glenys realised that, despite his rank, he was probably no more than twenty-four or five. ‘Now, you must all realise that as the war progresses, the need for men on the front line increases. Many of you in the ATS are already doing men’s work: women have taken on the driving of heavy lorries, and almost a hundred per cent of our clerks, military police, PT instructors and telephonists are now women. And still the need for men on the front line becomes ever more urgent. So our thoughts have turned to the ack-ack batteries. The top brass consider that if we could find women strong enough and intelligent enough to work the searchlights there would be a great saving of manpower. You were the pick of those asked to sit the tests, and are the first to be offered the opportunity to go on a six-week training course on searchlights. Any questions?’

A hand in the front row shot up. ‘Please, sir, what if we can’t start them great heavy generators? I’ve got a brother in the site just up the road from our house and he says it’s real hard; I doubt I’d be able to do it myself.’

Captain Dorrington smiled thinly. ‘We’ve thought of that,’ he said. ‘A man will be given the task of starting the generators, and once they’re up and running we think you’ll be able to cope.’

The girl, who had stood up to deliver her question, sank back into her seat and Glenys, highly daring, raised her own hand. ‘I’d like to give it a go, sir,’ she said, sounding far more confident than she felt. ‘But suppose we get through our training and go to a searchlight battery and find we can’t manage it; what then? Can we return to our previous jobs?’

The captain exchanged a look with the sergeant which Glenys interpreted as being of the ‘poor little woman’ variety. ‘We don’t doubt your ability to do the job. The reason why we hesitated at first to bring the ATS into searchlights was to do with location: ack-ack batteries are a long way from HQ and other amenities. You could be expected to get your own meals, and to manage such things as washing your own uniforms, et cetera. But obviously it won’t suit everyone, and since we would prefer volunteers to pressed men it is important that you think carefully before agreeing to take on this most arduous task.’ His keen gaze travelled slowly from face to face, and when he spoke again his voice was far more relaxed and friendly. ‘Well, young ladies? You will be issued with extra clothing: when women were first brought into the army it was assumed that they would not have to face inclement weather conditions. And of course, though in time women will take the positions of command in the searchlight batteries, at first the more senior positions will be filled by men.’ Once more his keen gaze swept the audience sitting before him, and once again that slow and very attractive smile softened his features. ‘It is very gratifying to see that it would be quicker to take the names of those not interested in being re-mustered than to record those willing to undertake what I have to tell you could be a dangerous trade. Anyone not wishing to re-muster to the ack-ack battery section, please raise your hand.’