'Having to flee for my life, being shot at and almost torpedoed were not what my father had in mind for me, as we waited in the Piccadilly offices of the National Society of Day Nurseries to look at their list of positions for nannies, nurses and governesses. Like many fathers in the 1930s he wanted to make sure that if his daughter went to work in another country she would be as safe as possible.
'I grew up as one of eight children in a very happy family. My parents felt their daughters as well as their sons should train for a profession. I wanted to look after children, so at 16 I enrolled at Oldchurch Hospital in Romford, Essex. I qualified at 18 but then went on to gain my SRN and did general nursing until I was 22. I still desperately wanted to be a nanny, and I applied to be a governess for Prince and Princesse Guy de Polignac, an aristocratic French family who wanted an English nanny. I honestly did not expect to get the job. There were 12 other applicants and in those days 22 was considered very young for a nanny or a governess. But I was the one they chose, and soon my trunk was packed and in 1938 I said goodbye to my family and set off across the Channel, little realising how long I would be gone, or how much would happen to me while I was away.
'My lifestyle in France was totally different to anything I had experienced in England. I had my own butler, nursery maid, car and chauffeur. My sole responsibility was to care for seven-year-old Diane, four-year-old Eileen and their baby sister Seyna, who was born a few months after I arrived. I did not have to wear a uniform and ate my meals with the family. In those days I was called Mademoiselle or Miss Green.
'We divided our time between the family house near Paris or the chateau and vineyards near Bordeaux and spent the summers in a house by the beach at Arcachon. It was a luxurious, insulated life. Although everyone was aware what Hitler was doing in the rest of Europe, certainly neither my family nor the de Polignacs realised he would invade France so quickly.
'In the spring of 1940 while we were in Paris the family brought me a plane ticket to fly back to England. I packed my bags. But the night before I was due to leave, the airport was destroyed. As an English woman I would have been arrested and interned if the Germans caught me. So, as their armies approached Paris, the children and I were sent back to Arcachon with the chauffeur and nursery maid. The road was jammed with people fleeing Paris. Many were walking; some had all their possessions on carts. We travelled very slowly and I remember feeling thankful that at least we were in a comfortable car, when I heard an ear-splitting whine followed by loud cracking noises. The German planes were swooping down to shoot at the column of people. The girls and I jumped out of the car and sheltered under a roadside hedge. When the planes disappeared we got back into the car, but they kept coming back and each time we had to leave the car and hide by the roadside. Many people around us were shot, including our chauffeur, who insisted on staying in the car. Luckily he was not badly wounded and eventually we reached Arcachon, where I found I was the most senior person in the house. At that time communication was very difficult, so all I could do was wait and try to keep life as normal as possible for the girls.
'Paris fell to the Germans on June 8. The parents sent me a message saying I was to take the children to their grandparents in New York; we were to sail from Bordeaux. We met no more German troops, so the journey was a lot less stressful. Soon I, the girls and our maid were safely installed in our suite on the SS Washington. When we set sail I felt a great sense of relief, and reassured the girls that soon we 'd be safe in New York with Grandmere and Grandpere.
'The first two days of our voyage were fine, clear and uneventful. Then we docked at Lisbon to collect more passengers. That night there was a thick fog. We went to bed and at 11pm we were woken by the lifeboat bell. We put on dressing gowns and lifejackets and hurried out on deck, where we were helped into lifeboats by the sailors and lowered into the sea. Two German U-boats had been spotted close by and it was thought that the ship could be torpedoed.
'I shall never forget that night. I tucked baby Seyna into my lifejacket under my dressing gown and cuddled the two girls who clung to me. The American sailors were wonderful. They gave us blankets and were calm and reassuring. They also passed around a flask of brandy and, although I would never normally condone a nanny drinking on duty, both the girls and I were glad to have a sip.
'We stayed in the boat all night listening to the foghorns and the girls eventually fell asleep. At 6am the fog lifted and there was the most glorious sunrise. Suddenly Diane spotted the two periscopes from the submarines. Everybody prayed. At 11am we were allowed back onto the ship as our American captain negotiated with the Germans. Berlin was radioed and eventually it was agreed that as a neutral American ship we would not be attacked.
'The SS Washington was the last ship to be able to leave Europe. We sailed to Scotland to pick up even more passengers. We shared our quarters with a Scottish lady, her daughter and their Norland nanny, Peggy, who became a lifelong friend.
'Three weeks later we arrived in New York. I had been instructed to take a taxi to a particular hotel. The hotel staff were very welcoming and after I had put the girls to bed the grandparents phoned me to tell me that they had arranged for us to stay there permanently. I was to be in charge of the girls but could keep the maid with me.
'When we were being shot at or in the lifeboat I was so busy making sure that the girls were all right that I was never afraid for myself. But I think that first night in the hotel was my very worst time - I had thought that once we arrived in New York we would stay with the grandparents and become part of the family again. Then I realised that instead of being able to let somebody else take control, I would have to totally organise a new life for the girls.
'As I lay in bed that night I couldn't sleep. I felt ill, exhausted and terribly alone. However, at age 24 it is hard to impossible to stay miserable for long, so when I woke up next morning and saw the sun streaming in through the windows I decided that whatever happened I would try to do my best to give the girls a good life in America.
'After breakfast we went to Central Park, where I met the first of the nannies who were to become our friends. At the beginning of the war many families fled from Europe with their children and nannies. They were incredibly sociable and welcoming. In a very short time we had a massive circle of friends. We organised play sessions, tea parties and activities for the children and soon the girls and Iwere enjoying a stable, busy life.
'In New York I was able to write and get letters from my family. I joined a committee to help organise social events for the British and European service personnel who were in New York and attended evening socials when the nursery maid babysat the girls. One of the first people I met was a charming Irishman named Desmond Roughan, an officer in the British merchant navy, whose ship had been torpedoed. For three days he and five other men had clung to a life raft. He was convalescing and we were able to get to know one another over several weeks before he went back to active service. He promised to come see me the next time he docked in New York.
'Princesse de Polignac came to see her daughters and as they were now at full- time school the nursery maid could care for them, so they no longer needed me. I went to work for another delightful French family, Baron George de Braux. They had an apartment in New York where we stayed in the winter and we spent summers on a Connecticut island. I visited the de Polignac girls when I could and had lots of friends. Desmond was on active service with the convoys escorting the oil tankers from America to England, so I saw him whenever he was in New York.
'I had to travel to Canada to renew my work permit. Returning to New York late on a Thursday evening I found a telegram from Desmond saying he'd got a special licence and we were to be married on Saturday. I had always dreamed of a traditional white wedding with all my family around, but during the war everything was so uncertain, we did not want to wait. My employer lent me a beautiful dress and coat, my friends organised a reception and Desmond and I were married in St Patrick's Cathedral. We had a four-day honeymoon in the mountains; then he returned to his ship and it was several months before I saw him again.
'After I was married I continued to work on a daily basis. Although nannies enjoyed a luxurious lifestyle living with our employers, we were not well paid. Later I did agency work as a monthly or maternity nurse.
'Eventually the war ended and in 1945 I sailed back to England. My whole family travelled to London to meet me. I had been away for seven years. By now my sisters were married with children and it took three taxis to transport us across the city.'
Wendy and Desmond settled in England. Wendy always stayed in touch with the de Polignac family and had many reunions with them. She never worked as a nanny again, but when her two daughters were older she started her own nursery school, and ran it for 24 years. She leads an active life in Ludlow and is in great demand to visit her daughters, grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
