Shropshire Magazine

Winifred Phillips and Dorothy Hughes were welcomed by two of their male counterparts in March 2009 as the first women Chelsea Pensioners.

Ben Bentley goes to London to meet a very popular pensioner

The Chelsea Pensioners were once, proudly and exclusively, known as ‘men in scarlet’. And then up popped feisty old army girl Winifred Phillips from Telford. Ten years ago Winifred, then 74, made a pledge: to become the first woman Chelsea Pensioner.There was just one problem: The Royal Hospital Chelsea, home of the Chelsea Pensioners, had for almost 350 years been an all-male club for ex soldiers who wished to live out their twilight years in peace.

But ‘Win’, as she prefers to be called, had other ideas and began her campaign, writing letters to the hospital.

“I was the first person to ask them to admit women,” says Win. “They’d never considered it before. When I was in the Army I used to say, ‘When I get old I’m going to be one of the first women in there and I’m going to get in my wheelchair and chase all those men up and down the corridor’.”

Win in the grounds of the Royal Hospital, Chelsea.

It’s been just over a year now since Win surrendered her army pension and took up residence as the first female in-pensioner at the hospital, making history in the process.

When we previously spoke, on the day she was admitted along with two other women, she was exhausted from all the fuss and attention from journalists eager to have a word with the woman who changed the Chelsea Pensioners forever.

A year on and Win is well and truly settled in, although she rarely passes the time of day with those two other ladies, getting on better with the men she says.

I’m very popular with the men!” she tells me. “It’s the women I don’t get on with so much. The men are great. I’ve been deprived in the Army but I’m making up for it now!

“I’ve loved the last 12 months — I’ve got a beautiful place to live. I was in the old infirmary for a year but I’m living in the newly refurbished part now on the top floor — eight men and me.

“I’ve had a few ups and downs. I’ve had two operations, but this is my life now.

“There is a lot of banter and I give as good as I get. I’m one of them, I was in the army with men. I’m known as having a sense of humour.”

She tells a lovely story about how she went on Poppy collection duty with one of the male in-pensioners.

“On the bus he persuaded everyone that he was my son, so now I joke ‘Where’s my son?’.”

I join Win in the hospital clubhouse, where she is the only female among a small legion of old soldiers in the grand, oak-panelled room. The banter in the clubhouse continues apace, with sharp-witted veterans jousting with Win over anything and everything.

The Chelsea Flower Show is held within the grounds and Win mentions that she can’t go because of her asthma. “It’s the pollen,” she says, but one veteran at her table, Sandy Sanders from Wolverhampton, quips: “It’s in case she gets impregnated there!”

Memories are shared of army days. At one point they all compare belts, the colours of which indicate the regiments to which they were attached.

“I thought you were pregnant!” says one of the old boys to Win.

“Not likely in here,” she replies quick as a flash.

She says later: “I like to have fun, that’s what life is all about.”

Of course, Win has earned the right to her new life. After qualifying as a nurse, on her 22nd birthday she signed up with the Auxiliary Territorial Service in 1948, enlisting into the Women’s Royal Army Corps the following year.

She completed 22 years of service with the Colours and retired from the forces in 1971 in the rank of Warrant Officer Class 2, moving to Telford in 1976 to work at the Jobcentre in Madeley.

Win with fellow Salopian Pip Taylor.

Win stepped up her efforts to become a Chelsea Pensioner after reading about Shifnal veteran Pip Taylor, the first person from Shropshire to be admitted as an in-pensioner in 2006.

Pip, 69, and Win are now friends and talk often of Shropshire.

“Win has been accepted in her own right, and that is only right,” he says. “We all love her.” Another old soldier tells me later that “life here wouldn’t be the same without Winifred”. Her warm, sparkling personality shines through as she stops and says hello to everyone as we wander around the palatial grounds of the hospital and their eyes light up when they greet her.

As for Pip, life here suits him just fine. And it certainly keeps him busy.

“I work in the souvenir shop seven days a week. Since I was 11 I worked seven days a week on a farm; in the Army I worked seven days a week; and later as a market trader I worked seven days a week.

“I’ve never had a job where I didn’t work seven days a week. I open the souvenir shop at weekends on my own.”

Pip’s day typically begins with a six-mile walk around Battersea Park followed by a stint in the shop, and ends with a drink in his local. Yes Pip is settled here and even has social life outside the hospital.

“I’ve got my own local pub with no TV or music and all these people come in — members of the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Timothy Spall . . . and Trevor Eve was in there the other day.”

Pip adds: “It’s a happy life until I peg it, but I will live another 20 years here.We are all in the same boat — we come here to die. It might take a while but we’ll peg out here.”

The Royal Hospital was founded by King Charles II, who issued a Royal Warrant authorising the building of the hospital in December 1681, to make provision for old or injured soldiers. Many of these soldiers, who were no longer fit for service, had been kept on regimental rolls so that they could continue to receive payment, because there was an inadequate provision of pensions for them.

Sir Christopher Wren was commissioned to design and erect the building, his design being based on the Hôpital des Invalides in Paris. And it makes a grand home for people like Win. “The best nursing home in the world,” she calls it.

She even has a book coming out entitled My Journey To Becoming The First Lady Chelsea Pensioner (Pen Press), which takes us from her birth, through her army career and her subsequent travels around the world, with the final destination here in the heart of Chelsea.

It’s a journey that continues. Win’s life here is a positive social whirl both inside and outside the hospital.

Win regularly gets out. Just this morning she popped to the shops to collect her winnings on the National Lottery. In the last year she has enjoyed trips to Ascot and Cheltenham races.

“You go out in your uniform and the traffic stops for you. You can go out whenever you like but to be honest I’m never more happy than when I’m here.”

Win proudly shows me around her new home. We wander around the splendid grounds admiring the architecture and views.

Earlier, when I arrive at the gates, I am greeted by a veteran turned out immaculately in scarlet, who enquires of my business.

Impact

Although the hospital has more than 300 in-pensioners, it is evident that the name Winifred Phillips has had an impact.

He cups his hand to his mouth and trumpets: “Win — there’s a young man here, come to see you.”

What does the future hold for Win here?

“Death,” she says instantly, but without fuss or drama. “I’m here until the day I die. I don’t have to think about anything. I worked for 10 years to get in here, writing to them.

Enjoying a drink in the clubhouse.

“Now every day is my own, I don’t have to do anything unless I have some detail. It’s been great. I’m rather proud to be the first woman here, and as long as you can talk to the men as men and I can be as a woman, I can enjoy it. It’s an oasis. It’s right in the heart of London, but would you know you were in London? Look at it!”

“When I came here I thought I would be chasing the men in their wheelchairs. I never got the chance - I haven’t even got a wheelchair!” says Win.

“But I’m really enjoying myself in my old age.

“Not that I’m old.”

Win reflects on her first days at the Royal Chelsea Hospital and how, upon arrival, all those years of asking if she could spend her old age here flashed back before her very eyes.

“When I first came here they gave me back a file of all the letters I had written to them saying that women should be allowed as Chelsea Pensioners,” she says.

“They said ‘We won’t be needing these anymore’.

“The officer here made me the first lady, so I’m in history.”