"A SIGNAL OF DISTRESS"

Just one moment, please, while I get the connection,

It's my thoughts I'm alluding to - such a collection!

You must pardon me, pray, for the fault will be mine

If a signal like this isn't quite in my line.

First of all you are asking me how long I've been here –

So long that I feel like the Service, I'm senior;

For that's what it's like at the end of a week,

When you fall off your perch should an officer speak.

And you answer the bo'sun with fervent "Aye, aye, sir!"

While giving the Admiral "Right-o, bye-bye, sir!"

But after ten days, or say twelve at the most,

They tell me I'll feel as tho' born at my post,

And no longer say "Yes, ma'am," when signalling "No, sir."

And despairingly wish I'd turned postman or grocer.

The prospect, I fear, is too good to be true,

I shall flounder for ever, and never get through'

Well, if worst comes to worst, and I'm fired from the board,

Without earning the thanks of a single Sea Lord',

One virtue I’ve learnt tho’ maybe not a glistener,

Still, better than nothing – I am a good listener!

Nora Nicholson,

W.R.N.S. Telephonist, Naval Exchange Devonport