The children started Ryelands School at the end of August. War was declared on the Third of September. It would not be the last time that a delightful phase in Michael's life would be mixed with or followed by something horrible.
The dreaded Uglies would always pursue him or waylay him and he never felt secure from the possibility of personal disasters. He was always looking over his shoulder for unexpected trouble. Angst!
The adults became obsessed with Air Raid Precautions, First Aid, Salvage, Paper and Aluminium Collections, Digging For Victory, Spies, Identity Cards, Careless Talk, Fire Watching, Home Guarding, Auxiliary Fire Servicing, Emergency Water Tanks, Blackout, Sirens, Civil Defence, Rationing, Observer Corps, Munitions Making, Women's Voluntary Service, Scarcities, Making Do and Mending.
The list seemed endless:
LEND TO DEFEND THE RIGHT TO BE FREE
IS YOUR JOURNEY REALLY NECESSARY?
DON'T SPEND -- DO LEND
EVERY SCRAP OF PAPER HELPS VICTORY
"Little Hitlers everywhere!" was Jack's verdict. An army of petty minor officials began to intrude into everyone's life.
Shopkeepers became gods, with the divine right to offer or withhold favours. Your grocer might let you buy some broken biscuits or your butcher put a little extra on the scales when he weighed your meat ration. The fruit-and-veg shop might offer you an occasional apple or orange from under the counter if you were favoured. Occasionally your tobacconist might provide you with a scarce packet of Players or Senior Service cigarettes instead of the sore-throat-inducing Miners. Margaret was relieved that she had been a regular customer for many years at certain shops, including Burt her butcher's. "I'm sorry madam, but I have to look after my regulars," was the predictable answer to any stranger's request for scarce goods.
There was the building in Queen Street where you went to obtain ration books. Sometimes the organisers were helpful, sometimes condescending or snooty. Nobody argued with them. Your food was in their hands. Rations varied. The value of your ration coupons varied at different periods during the war. Some examples of weekly rations were:
- Bacon -- 4 ounces
- Tea -- 2 ounces
- Preserves -- 2 ounces
- Cheese -- 1 ounce
- Margarine etc. -- 6 ounces
- Tinned foods -- 4 ounces
- Sweets -- 2 ounces
There were Billeting Officers who found homes for evacuees and accommodation for service men, munitions workers and other essential war workers. The Housing Officer reigned supreme in Lancaster's Ashton Hall, requisitioning properties, ousting residents, imposing unwanted lodgers, allotting dwellings to the perceived needy, and refusing the requests of numerous hopefuls.
On the new Damside Street bus station, especially at rush hours, there were always long queues for red Ribble buses. The L5 and L6 which took you to Morecambe or Heysham and all stops in between were very popular. Irritating and fatiguing waiting times were inevitable.
A shortish, plump bus-inspector ruled the bus-station, supervising the queues efficiently and seeing that no one tried to gain an advantage over others. He filled the buses almost to capacity, leaving some room for picking-up passengers on the way. He told the drivers when to depart, ordered extra buses, as and when required, and so on. He was a local asset, always on the ball, always fair, always helpful, always cheerful. The pleasant face of Authority!
Others, wearing their new official uniforms, became aggressive tyrants, enjoying being bossy, rude and intolerant. The unpleasant face of Authority! Having Authority, as is the way of the world, brought out the best in some and the worst in others.
On 1st September 1939Germany and Russia invaded Poland. On the Second, civilians were killed in a bombing raid on Warsaw.
"It's Spain all over again," Jack told Sheila,
The Prime Minister still held back. Was no one ever going to find the guts to stop the Fascists? Fellow Tories urged the Government to act. When they did not, they urged Labour's acting leader, Arthur Greenwood, to "speak for England." He demanded immediate action.
A divided cabinet still dithered. Finally, an ultimatum was sent to Hitler. It was ignored and at 11.00am, on the Third, Britain and France were at war again with Germany.
Earlier in the morning, Margaret had been baking in the kitchen and Gordon digging in the garden. Michael was round at the Martins, playing with John. Gwyn and Doreen were skipping on the new path which Gordon had made. As they skipped, Gordon listened to their sweet singing.
"Boys and girls come out to play,
The moon is shining as bright as day,
Leave your dreaming and leave your sleep,
And join your play-fellows in the street."
Just before eleven, Michael and Doreen were sent home to be with their parents. Michael remembered the tension of those moments well. Most would be able to recall where they were and what they were doing that mid-morning, Sunday the Third of September, 1939.
Grim-faced, Margaret and Gordon sat listening to the Prime Minister's proclamation on the wireless.
"This country is now at war with Germany. We are ready."
Few believed him. But there was grim satisfaction that the conflict was finally to begin. Michael and Gwyn, picking up on their parents' mood, stayed quiet too.
"That's it then!" said Gordon resignedly, when the speech was over. "It's been a long time coming. We're in it again."
It took Gordon a few weeks to pluck up courage and tell Margaret that he had decided to volunteer. He was in a reserved occupation, after all -- there was no need for him to go -- but like his father before him, he felt a necessity to enlist and help defend the country in wartime. His brother Frank had already been to Preston for a medical, where he had been accepted for the Army. After that, Gordon plucked up courage and told Margaret about his intention. He was going to follow his younger brother's lead.
Margaret's reaction was predictable.
"It's all right for him going off to war. He's not married with children, like you. He's younger than you. He hasn't your responsibilities. How are we going to manage on Forces' pay?"
"We'll manage somehow."
"You mean, I will!"
Her objections were justified but Gordon's mind was made up. She could not dissuade him from what he had decided.
It was odd how being at war affected people. Many of those who had been loudly vociferous and demanding action, now went into hiding, seeking reserved occupations. Avoiding conscription was the name of their game. They were lucky to be living in a safe area. Now they sought safe jobs before they were called-up. These worthies were hopeful that others would do the fighting for them. Giving themselves the best chance of surviving was their main intention.
Doctors were overwhelmed by visits from the healthy, who had developed sudden back problems, or thought that their heart might have something wrong with it. One of the Vale of Lune Rugby Club's stalwarts went for treatment for a damaged knee and an ankle that was giving him a lot of pain. Somehow he still managed to play rugger every Saturday afternoon.
Some married men aged over thirty and in a reserved occupation, volunteered. Gordon felt no bitterness towards the shirkers. "What they do is their business," he told Jack.
The surprising thing was that there was little or no ill-feeling directed towards the evaders of duty. During the First World War women presented young men who were not in uniform with white feathers -- a badge of shame. During the Second World War, people believed the propaganda. They were told that the nation was pulling together. Everyone, in or out of uniform, was doing his or her bit to help the war effort. Newspapers, cinemas, posters, clergy, national and local politicians succeeded in keeping morale high. "We are all in trouble together and doing our best for the nation."
Many ignored the anecdotal evidence and what was happening in their own town, in their own district, in their own work place, within their own families. Everywhere there were shirkers but nobody moaned at them. The genuinely patriotic and the diligent carried the burden without complaining. Only Conscientious Objectors had to put up with derision for being a 'Conscie'.
All very odd!
Jack was sympathetic to some who had been long-term unemployed and who now found themselves in work for the first time in years. Who could begrudge them good pay which came with some of the new wartime jobs? But he despised others who were armchair patriots. "All mouth and no guts!" he called them.
He named names at school and when he was with his political friends. Hardly anyone took any notice. It was just Jack, talking too much, as usual. He'd always been a moaner and trouble-maker.
War-profiteers were those Jack really detested. He hinted darkly about unwarranted profits being made locally out of government contracts for uniforms, chemicals, floor coverings and wooden, window frames for the Forces' Nissen huts. There were some dodgy, shoddy and expensive commodities being manufactured.
Joyce knew that her Yorkshire businessman was rapidly becoming a millionaire. His firm had revived its failing fortunes. A contract for Land Girls' uniforms was obtained. The presents he gave her became ever more lavish.
Some establishments were taken over for war purposes: The Grand Hotel by National Savings and The Midland became a hospital for war-wounded Airmen. Morecambe's hoteliers and boarding-house keepers were not profiteers but the war brought them extra money. Thousands of servicemen, mainly newly recruited Airmen, and many civil servants, were billeted all over the town. The government did not pay as well as visiting holiday-makers but seasonal business now became all-year-round, which made a big difference to annual takings. After being closed by the Government for a short while, cinemas and dance halls were booming.
Joyce had ten Airmen billeted on her and the pub was always full. Her life became even more lively than ever before.
At Preston, Gordon passed the medical A1. He was interviewed by recruiting officers for all three Services and opted for the Royal Air Force. He was accepted for Aircrew. After initial training at Blackpool he would learn how to be a gunner in a bomber aircraft.
"Better than being blown up in the air like our dad was!" joked Frank. "You'll already be up there when you get what's coming to you." Gordon was not amused. Neither was Margaret when he told her he would be going to train at Blackpool at the end of October.
"Can't get away fast enough can you?" she jeered. "Be able to please yourself won't you? Have as many girl friends as you like!"
Gordon sensed it would be difficult for him to ever play the hero in his own household no matter what he did during the battles to come in the air. He had to admit, there was an element of truth, in what his wife said. If it hadn't been for the children, he might well have left her sooner: she'd become such a pain in the neck.
Michael found life more and more exciting. He loved his new school and for the first time since he'd started at St Anne's, he looked forward to playtimes. He, Rob and Paul enjoyed games on the spacious playground, or on the field, when the weather was suitable, unaware of just how much their world was about to turned upside down...
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