It was a long three months for the girls to pass their final exams and obtain their deserved degrees. After have a short holiday with their families, they left for their training camp at Wits University in Johannesburg.
A few of the ladies were forced to withdraw due to pressure from their parents, not at all being comfortable with such secrecy, and this included Maisy. It took every inch of persuasion to convince her parents that it was safe and that no guns were involved; even Dean Peters was called upon to act on her behalf. But now here they were, four pretty young ladies, only just qualified with a degree and heading off together to a training camp and a future in something them and many others for that matter, knew nothing.
Many shed tears at the train station when the ladies said their final goodbyes to their parents and friends. The giant black steam engine puffed dark black smoke and shrilled the air with its warning departure whistle. The four friends hurriedly found their compartment and immediately leaned out of the window to wave at those still standing on the platform. For awhile they remained silent as the train chugged into the distance grunting its engines into a steady motion until it was out of sight from the station.
Audrey jumped up. “Come on girls, let’s explore the train.”
They knocked on the door of the next compartment and all the way down their coach until eventually, a total of six ladies on the train to Johannesburg were in the passageway exploring; much to the delight of the soldiers and those yet to become soldiers on the train.
From the station in Johannesburg a huge Army truck shepherded them to the Wits campus, they would have felt very much at home when they arrived had it not been for the obvious brown tone of Army vehicles and uniforms swarming the campus. They picked up their small suitcases and vanity bags and followed the man with a very loud voice to a large room.
“Oh golly, have we done the right thing coming here?” Maisy said softly almost in tears.
“It will be fine Maisy; we just have to show them that we are as tough as our brains are clever.” Peggy re-assured her, a little scared herself but trying desperately not to show it.
Hurriedly they shuffled onto the first seat they found, and when they were ready for instruction, there were only ten women in the room. The man belted out in horrible English, as he was clearly very Afrikaans speaking, that he was Staff Sergeant Erasmus. He informed them of his intense dislike that he had to babysit young girls in a man’s environment. No one said a word back and to their relief Lt. Grobbelaar entered the room. Staff Sgt. Erasmus stood to attention and saluted her; she saluted back half-heartedly, he relaxed his arm and then to the ladies he yelled for them to stand to attention and salute the senior officer. All the women looked at one another and stood slowly; he bellowed for them to hurry and present their arm in a salute to the Lieutenant. Audrey began to giggle as she raised her hand to her eye and poor Maisy, who was left-handed, raised her left hand in her salute. Staff Sgt. Erasmus nearly had a hernia and almost swallowed his tongue as he hysterically shouted that she raise the correct hand. Maisy, scared out of her wits fumbled to get her right hand above her eye. Dorothy and Audrey and several others gulped down their giggles hastily in shock at Staff Sgt. Erasmus’s boisterous bark.
“Thank you, Staff Sergeant, that will be all, you may leave us in private please.” Lt. Grobbelaar said to Staff Sgt. Erasmus. He about-faced stomped his feet once, twice and marched out of the room. “You may sit ladies.” Lt. Grobbelaar said, and the women sat instantly and silently.
“Welcome to the six-week training camp. Before I begin to explain your unit and your position in the Army if anyone has any doubts, now is the time to leave.” Lt. Grobbelaar looked about the room at every woman. The ladies looked at one another nervously wondering if anyone was going to stand up and leave. “Okay great. You ladies will be the first recruits in the SSS, The Special Signals Services.” A little mumble and shuffle from all the ladies followed her words as they were finally enlightened as to the unit in which they would be serving. “You will be trained in reading Radar and forwarding that information to a control room otherwise known as a Filter room.” Lt. Grobbelaar took a breath and moved to the front of the desk resting her butt on the edge. She looked more human in that stature than when she stood. “You will be out-casted by most because of the secrecy. I just want you all to know that right now. Don’t think you will be popular because you won’t. Any questions so far?”
The ladies swiveled their heads around until one raised her hand “Why is it so secret?” The rest of the ladies nodded.
“Good question.” She acknowledged her approval to the lady. “If the enemy ships know that we have Radar detection from our shores they will know where and how to avoid being tracked. There is at the moment a great increase of losses our ships are experiencing. Also, a large amount of the South African population is still sympathetic toward the Nazi’s. Therefore, trust becomes an issue. And even more so now, since Japan’s entry into the war protecting our ships means efficient Radar stations. I hope that answers your question?” All the ladies nodded.
“Right! From here you will be taken to your barracks, and you will be issued with your uniforms. First, though, I will give each one of you an “Oath of Secrecy” that you will sign. I must re-iterate that you are part of an elite group. A lot of men and women will be very jealous of you, not only because of the special unit they will know nothing about but also because you will enter the Army as a Sergeant, a rank higher than most.” Lt. Grobbelaar collected a pile of papers out of her briefcase and handed one page to each lady.
They wrote their names on the top along with their identity numbers and their rank with anticipated excitement, especially the rank section. They were made to stand, raised their right hand and repeated the sworn oath as it was stated on the page. They sat down again signed and dated the oath.
Lt. Grobbelaar collected the pages explaining at the same time, “I will co-sign each oath. You will not get a copy until you leave the forces just in case it falls into enemy hands.”
At each mention of the word enemy or any form of cloak and dagger activity the ladies giggled or murmured except poor Maisy, who’d rather run away in fear.
Lt. Grobbelaar placed the signed pages in her briefcase locked it and held it in her hand ready to leave the room “That’s all ladies, welcome to the Special Signal Services, the SSS.” She stood to attention and saluted the ladies – not that she had to but because she wanted to.
The ladies jumped up and attempted to salute her back and Maisy fumbled between her left and right hand.
Lt. Grobbelaar walked out the room, and the ladies could hear Staff Sgt. Erasmus standing to attention as she exited the room. They could almost hear his hand swishing to salute Lt. Grobbelaar with determined force. Staff Sgt. Erasmus entered the room to a bunch of ladies eagerly chatting about their new found life in the Defense force.
“Rights ladies.” Staff Sgt. Erasmus exploded. “Moves to the truck. You goes to your barracks.” The ladies dashed from the room to the same truck waiting nearby to drive them to their barracks.
They clambered onto the back of the truck in front of a barking Staff Sgt. Erasmus. When the truck pulled off, they were pleased to see the back of him. “What a horrible man,” Dorothy exclaimed bouncing with the careless movement of the truck.
“He only shouts like that to scare us off. They don’t like women in the Army,” Audrey replied holding onto the bench for dear life as the driver deliberately drove over every bump in the road.
They reached the Union Grounds and the truck parked in front of a warehouse. The ladies jumped off the truck in their high heels, their perfect curls and hairstyles had now fallen out of place and out of the bobby pins. They now looked more like ragged dolls rather than refined, intelligent ladies. The truck driver spoke at least kindly when he told them to get their uniforms.
“Goes in there and gets yours uniforms.” The driver said in his broken English and pointed to the rolled up doorway of the warehouse.
“Do any of these men speak proper English?” Peggy exclaimed.
Like a bunch of bees, the ladies huddled together and walked to the entrance. Another man told them to go to the starting point of the collection line and to work their way down to the end. They did as they were instructed. At the first collection point they were asked their size and then given uniforms approximately the size they’d requested. They were handed everything from undergarments; Oxford styled shoes, regulation PT sneakers, a greatcoat (that was heavy) to toothbrushes. The dismay at the style and roughness of material clearly showed on their faces when the garments got thrust into their open arms. Finally, a kit bag was thrown on top of their belongings in their arms, and they were instructed first to put everything into the kit bag before they exited the warehouse.
Leaving the warehouse still in their heels, the ladies were met by many uniformed men whistling and chiding them, passing silly comments to mock them “Pick up your bags.” or “Are you not women enough?” and “You’re in the Army now Daddy can’t carry your bags anymore.” The men taunted the ladies.
The ladies struggled to keep their balance in their heels and carry the bags over their shoulders. Audrey had, had enough, and she kicked off her shoes, threw them in the bag, and swung the bag over her shoulder and marched to the truck. The rest of the ladies sensing this were a good idea did the same much to the applause of the men. They labored to get their bags onto the back of the truck and then finally jumped in ready to head to their dormitories.
“I’m sure the driver deliberately parked further away just to see how we would struggle with our bags,” Peggy noted with a sigh still getting her breath back.
“Well, those who laugh first laugh last. When we have our uniforms on we must make a point of coming back here, and then they will have to salute us because we will be a higher rank than them.” Dorothy said defiantly.
They all plopped down on their beds, throwing their bags on the floor beside them. The Phineas Court opposite the University would be their home for the next three weeks. Each room housed four beds, so the four friends, Peggy, Audrey, Dorothy, and Maisy had no hesitation in claiming a room for them.