´óÏó´«Ã½

Domestic Life (continued)
It is incomprehensible now to think that, having experienced the ruthless efficiency of the German Armed Forces in ravaging the Continent in their rapid advance that considerable effort went into creating the Local Defence Volunteers [the acronym LDV was often translated as ‘Look, Duck and Vanish’] to resist the anticipated invasion. If fully trained troops, with modern but insufficient weapons could not constrain the enemy, how could a motley group of an older generation, with totally inadequate weapons, be expected to put up any real form of resistance? But those were the expectations; maybe it was lucky that they were not put to the test. The recent popular television programme’s Dad’s Army really only depicted the latter years of what became the Home Guard with a relatively efficient uniformed organisation and a supply of weapons. In the early days, the volunteers really did have only pitchforks and the like with which to convert their astonishing determination and patriotism into some form of resistance.

Ironically, as the threat of invasion receded, so the Home Guard became more efficient.
Men in ‘protected jobs’ of military age were required to enlist and often took over manning anti-aircraft batteries after the main threat of air raids had passed.

Domestic life
Even though rationing of the principal commodities of life was intended to enable all to have a ‘fair’ share of what was available, there was still pressure to ensure that if a commodity in short supply suddenly became available, a queue developed.

My recollection is that these were always orderly, even though people waited hours, often in very inclement conditions to get what was available. Perhaps people were conditioned by the hardship of the earlier years of the twentieth Century with recollections of soup kitchens and dole queues.

The system of rationing operated on a series of coupons, each of which had a point’s value. These were contained in a ‘Ration Book’ and each household was required to register with a grocer and a butcher to ensure their weekly ration. Greengrocery items were not rationed, but imported fruit such as bananas and oranges were non-existent except at Christmas when it was deemed necessary to bolster morale. I cannot recall tasting a banana from 1939 to 1946 or 7 and initially, when they did become available did not like them.

There was a separate book containing clothing coupons. To a child the most important points coupons were those which enabled the purchase of sweets!

The Ration Books were issued on a yearly basis, with varying values [most often reducing] being allocated to each coupon [presumably based on an assessment the Ministry of Food made of what could be grown and what could be successfully imported through the U-boat blockade]. They were issued in three categories — Adult, Child and Infant, each with a different coloured cover to distinguish them.

In the very early days there was some limited stockpiling of preserved commodities such as tinned fruit — pears, peaches and pineapples, although for our family this was restricted by the family cash available. Such items were only brought out on very special occasions indeed.
Families who could were encouraged to grow fruit and vegetables, and allotments were quite readily available, and all the family expected to put in some effort to grow what they could. Even part of Albert Park was given over to allotments. Although fencing was limited, there did not seem to be any theft of produce, even though black markets thrived for many commodities.

Holidays were a memory for most. Train and bus journeys were strictly limited, and many of the beaches were barricaded throughout most of the war even though the threat of invasion was far removed. Redcar and Saltburn were two that were excluded as they were protected by offshore rocks therefore being unsuitable for troop landing. The Council set up a Holidays at Home programme during the August school holidays, centred on Albert Park. The main attractions were a fairground ride consisting of open coaches in the form of a dragon that prescribed a circle whilst simultaneously mounting and descending two humps, and a merry go round with horses that were supposed to ‘prance’. Well, they were supposed to prance, but the mechanism had broken and I do not recall them ever working properly.

For several days the Fire Brigade put on displays in the Park to demonstrate their prowess — not that we were in any doubt of that given their performance on active duty — but this gave us the opportunity to watch their techniques, something not possible at the height of an air raid. Although these displays may have generated an ambition amongst the boys that they wanted to be firemen when they left school, I wonder how many did so!

Patriotism.
The younger generation could not conceive of anything other than a victory for the Allies. Quite how this was possible during the early years, I do not understand. The ´óÏó´«Ã½ kept us informed — to some extent at least. The retreat through France culminating in Dunkirk; the Blitz on London; the losses of HMS Hood, Repulse, Prince of Wales and many others; the dreadful toll of merchant shipping by U-boats; the vacillations of the Desert campaigns; the loss of Singapore were all chronicled and made known to us by the ´óÏó´«Ã½ and the press, and yet we never doubted that we were invincible. When playing soldiers with our replica guns, no one ever wanted to be a German, so we fought a perpetually invisible foe!

We had an implicit belief that Mr Churchill would lead us to Victory, such was his charisma. Even from the age of six, I can recall the power of his ‘fight them on the beaches’ speech.

‘Uncle Joe’ Stalin was a super hero to us, and I for one swelled with pride when it was announced that Britain was to give a jewelled sword to the people of Stalingrad in recognition of their heroic resistance. We were unaware of his true capabilities; all that mattered was that he was giving the Germans a bloody nose.

We collected waste paper, and tin cans, in the belief that we were really helping the war effort. We bought Saving Certificates with our pocket money. We ran pavement sales to raise money for parcels for Prisoners of War; girls knitted squares for blankets or scarves and balaclavas for soldiers. We watched as oxy acetylene torches cut down wrought iron garden railings. Our faith was palpable. WE would win.

I cannot say how the adults reacted but the early days must have been a worrying time.
My father had been an under age volunteer in the First World War, and had been wounded several times. Many of his friends had suffered — the loss of a limb, the after effects of gassing, but I cannot recollect their speaking of their concerns even when the news was at its bleakest, although the prolonged uncertainty until the news turned in our favour, must have affected them.

Bernard Gibson
16 Gorman Road
Linthorpe
Middlesbrough TS5 6ES

01642 823328

November 2005

© Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.