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This story was submitted to the People's War web site by Sutton Coldfield Library on behalf of Patricia McGowan and has been added to the site with her permission. The author fully understands the sites terms and conditions

In October 1942 I met Oliver Byrne (who I later called Jim) and we married on July 3rd 1943. During our courtship we often went to the cinema and loved those old movies which at that time were very up-to-date and modern. The local cinema was still a place to relax and forget the worries of the state the country was in during the war. In particular, romantic films were very much a sort of balm in those days and tended to lift one out of the gloom and in some way would render us a false state of security. Watching the old films of deep love and romantic exploits gave the audience the feeling of being a part of the scene. As far as I was concerned, I often came out of the cinema pretending I was Hedy Lamarr or Greer Garson- walking down Colonial Road back to my home with a sort of dreamlike belief that I was still a part of the film I had just seen. The attached poem, I think, sums up this situation in regard to how people took refuge in the lovely cosy cinemas of that era.

The war that was going on outside that secluded cinema played no part whatsoever in our minds at the time, until we stepped out of the exit door and were once more plunged into the reality of the real world. But for that short time we would forget and that was a good thing for our morale, and gave the people courage to go on with their daily routine and lives.

Comic films were very popular and Laurel and Hardy were firm favourites of the era. I remember having to queue to see Shirley Temple films as well as the ‘Road to’ films starring Bing Crosby and Bob Hope. Swashbuckling Errol Flynn coming always to the rescue of the fair damsel in distress also gave us great entertainment. Nowadays, of course, we tend to have a good laugh at those kind of films which prove that we, ourselves have changed and are less content with the innocent films, preferring only the more sophisticated and slick American type of movies. I think even our humour is somewhat different to what it used to be. The Burns and Allen show was quite funny on TV a few years back and ‘I married Joan’, also ‘Amos and Andy’. I often wish they would re-televise those old favourites. Deanna Durbin was up and coming during my teenage years and most girls of my age were out to copy her. She used to wear a Juliet Cap in her films with her curls clustering around the edge of the cap. Most becoming, so we thought at the time and so hair fashions were adjusted to accommodate this type of head gear. Her lovely voice was such a joy to listen to and the films were the kind which caused one to fumble for the hanky, not many dry eyes in the audience for her films. I could just imagine my son Mark (16 at the time) who, seeing a film like this would comment ‘what a load of old mush’. Still, we enjoyed it all!

The time factor in this story is a bit disjointed but at least it gives a taste of what life was like during those dark days of World War 2. At my present age of 83 I have a lot to look back on and I am ever mindful of all those brave people, now long gone, who suffered hardship and soldiered on to finish the war and allow us here in Britain to live in peace.

CINEMAS

Cinema! Oh Cinema!
The haven we once sought
That one time bit of heaven
We loved, has come to nought.
Standing in a waiting queue
By a poster of Errol Flynn,
We’d shuffle up in twos and threes
All eager to get in.

For ages we would huddle there
And brave the rain and cold
And sometimes have to make for home
Because all seats were sold.
But queues to me were special as
We stood the endurance test
Talking of the films we’d seen
And the stars we liked the best.

Forgot the anxious waiting
When once we got inside-
Where all was warm and brightness,
Our miseries now defied.
Those yester-years we cherish
With memories of bliss,
Seeing films of romance and
That close-up daring ‘kiss’.

With darkness all around us,
We’d settle in our seat,
Chewing sweets and toffees or
An ice-cream for a treat.
That great big screen was ‘magic’
With wondering eyes we’d gaze
Seeing all our favourite stars
We’d sit there in a daze.

The war-time nineteen-forties
Was a trying time for all,
Unsure of our tomorrows
All sadness we’d forestall.
Those large and spacious buildings,
So inviting, safe and warm
Dispelled the fear and horror
Of the war we’d try to scorn.

We cocooned ourselves from fear and dread
Seeking a release
if only for a little while;
A fleeting kind of peace.
And when the show was over,
We’d pour out of the doors…
The film still in our dreamlike minds
A ‘fantasy’ of course.

An hour or two of respite
Had renewed us for a time
Until we queued the next week
For another treat sublime.
‘Twas all a sort of make-believe;
We knew this to be so,
But for us it was escapism
From realities and woe.

In daytime hours we’d work and strive
For the ‘war’ had to be WON!
No shirking of our duties
and these were bravely done.
But, now those days are past us
Though the memory lingers on,
The happy evenings spent with joy
On films now sadly gone.

Dream palaces of magic,
We loved you all so much
But now you’re ‘super-markets’,
Or Bingo Halls as such.
This seems to me so tragic, but
it’s modern life’s Endeavour,
and cannot touch my special past
where the CINEMA lives forever…

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