Iris Bryce 

During a quiet lull in a 12-hour nightshift, one of the teleprinters started up. To my surprise instead of a message or query, it was someone saying that he was bored and was there anyone out there he could talk to! Of course “chatting on line” was not allowed – but we were three young women and Corporal was out of the office so we replied and after a further couple of “talks” we knew he was American. Gradually my two friends dropped out and it was just him and me. After a couple of months he had some leave due and asked me if I would meet him, since he was going to be in London. This suited me as my signal office was in Mayfair, off Park Lane, in the basement of a bank which was open! We met for lunch in the Cumberland Hotel at the top of Oxford Street. After lunch we walked through Hyde Park and he told me about his home town. I had to return to my office at 5 o’clock for duty and I told him I would have to say goodbye – but we were now near Hyde Park Corner so all I had to do was cross over Park Lane and walk down Curzon Street.

He looked astonished. “You mean you work over there?” I nodded and he started to laugh. “Guess what,” he said, “I’m in the basement of Selfridges.” We had only been about ½ mile from each other all the time.