Marie Scott, the D-Day heroine who as a 17-year-old relayed coded messages from an underground bunker while hearing the 'sound of hell' from the Normandy beaches, has turned 100. Now a centenarian, she says she is enjoying the best years of her life, thanks to the Taxi Charity for Military Veterans.
Charity Gives New Lease of Life
Marie, from New Malden in Surrey, credits the charity, run by volunteer London black cab drivers, with transforming her later years. She said: 'I can honestly say it has totally changed my life and over the years has given me so many wonderful experiences. I will be forever grateful to them for enriching my life so splendidly. It has been transformational and means I am rather enjoying old age. I have become more curious and met people I would have never met. The last seven or eight years I have had a ball and old age has almost been a pleasure.'
The Taxi Charity, which has supported thousands of British servicemen and women since 1948, received the Queen’s Award for Voluntary Service in 2021. Chairman Colin Mills said: 'What makes the Taxi Charity so special is the human connection at its heart. The bonds formed between our volunteer cab drivers and the veterans they support are truly remarkable. Friendships grow quickly and sincerely, built on mutual respect and shared time together.'
D-Day Memories: 'The Sound of Hell'
Marie was just 17 during the Allied invasion in June 1944, working as a switchboard operator with the Women's Royal Naval Service in the subterranean tunnels at Fort Southwick, Portsmouth – the nerve centre monitoring the D-Day invasion fleet. She used new VHF radio systems to verbally relay coded messages to soldiers storming the five beaches codenamed Gold, Omaha, Utah, Sword, and Juno.
During exchanges, she could hear the battle across the Channel. She recalled: 'When they gave their responses to me, I couldn’t believe my ears. Because what I heard was incessant machine gunfire, the sound of cannons, and bombs dropping. I could hear men shouting orders and I could hear men screaming. And I suddenly realised that what I was listening to was the actual invasion of the beaches. Those men were storming the beaches of Normandy, and I was hearing the accompaniment of war. I’ll never forget that day. Never. It was the sound of hell.'
She added: 'In my head I was in the war because what I heard was machine gun fire continuously. Men shouting. Men shouting orders. Men screaming. It must have been horrifying on those beaches. The Germans had machine gun nests that were very well concealed and they just mowed them down as they went on the beaches, and I could hear all that. I remember all those desperately young men that didn’t survive D-Day. There were so many thousands killed on D-Day alone, it was an enormous number. For a few moments, I was there that day, listening to the hell those young men were in. I can’t help but think of them and their families – I often do.'
Celebrating 100 Years
Marie, who has daughters Gillian, 67, and Carolyn, 65, and grandchildren Robert, 35, Bryony, 33, and Madeleine, 28, plans to toast her three-figure landmark with a fish and chip lunch before a glittering soiree thrown by family and friends, where she will open her birthday card from King Charles. She left the Armed Forces in 1946 and later received the Légion d’honneur – France’s highest order of merit – for her role in helping liberate the country from Nazi occupation.
Reflecting on the war, she said: 'We felt it was our duty to stand up and serve. Our country was in danger and we rose to the occasion. It really was that simple. I will never forget the mood on VE Day. It was pure, unbridled joy. There were millions of people, it was like a surging sea, and you were swept off your feet. I have never known so much joy. We never thought the war would end, so it was a relief. It was a justifiable war because the Nazis were evil and that’s why I decided to join - to help the country.'
She recalled the celebrations in London: 'I went out with a friend from Portsmouth and she was in civvies. I went in uniform, and because I was in uniform, we received the attention of a lot of males. We had to suffer loads of kisses and hugs, and I must say most were not bad. We certainly entered into the spirit of things.'
