����ý

This story is by Joyce Gibson, and has been added to the site with their permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions. The story was collected by Joyce Gibson, transcribed by Elizabeth Lamont and added to the site by Bruce Logan.
====

When I was a child members of the Royal Family were regarded by most people as “the Gods”; icons who were hardly human. I certainly had never heard a word against them. It was against this background, therefore, on VE Day, (Victory in Europe but not on other fronts), that I jumped at the chance to go to see my idols in the flesh. I do believe that the fact that the war for us was virtually over, no more nights in air-raid shelters or wailing of warning sirens, took second place to the fact that I was going to see THEM. I had been asked to make the choice when, to mark this momentous occasion, the trip to London was planned “Mr. Churchill or the King and Queen at Buckingham Palace?” Of course, there was no hesitation in my reply. I was going to see the magic ones in their “fabulous palace”: they won hands down.

All I actually remember about the day itself was feeling very small, lost in a huge sea of humanity, all frantically waving their Union Jacks and shouting “We want the King!” he eventually appeared — poor man — you could see how shy he was, even from that distance, flanked by his radiant and confident queen and his two daughters, all of whom were destined to outlive him by at least fifty years. We peered at the dots on the balcony. They waved sedately and I like to think I actually witnessed the scene that has since appeared in countless photographs. I do recall though, on our way back to Waterloo station to make the short ride home, a vague sense of “Is that all?”

My other memories of Victory in Europe are quite a contrast. A few days after my trip to the Palace, I found myself sitting on the pavement, at a long trestle table eating jelly, blancmange and iced buns, unheard of treats. Local residents must have foregone many of their more basic needs in surrendering their food coupons to purchase so many delicious and unfamiliar goodies. I suppose the government may have helped a bit too, as street parties were actively encouraged and took place all over the country. My particular section of footpath, I remember, was on a particularly steep bend in the road. The food rolled down alarmingly to one end of the table and I had difficulty in remaining seated on my chair. I managed it all the same. My tea didn’t sit comfortably in my tummy however as, immediately afterwards, we were all inveigled into participating in some vigorous sport, this time in an adjoining road, which luckily was completely flat. I never was very good at egg and spoon or three-legged races and that day proved no exception. However, it was all in a good cause.

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