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At the end of war I was still at school and all I had ever known was war so along with my fellow pupils we fully expected that we would be given a long holiday to celebrate the occasion.

We did, I recollect, get a day’s holiday, but it was so close to the summer vacation that I suppose it seemed that we did have a longer break than normal.

VE Day was celebrated as a street party, and of course there were many others around the country at the same time. Everyone donated what he or she could in the way of food and decorations. Bunting appeared from the depths of people’s attics along with patriotic flags. Of course it was mainly the children for whom the party had been organised, so the entertainment mainly consisted of various contests for the younger members of the street. I was always competitive so entered into most of the events such as the slow bike race, the 100 yards sprint, the skipping race, the sack race and egg and spoon race. These were all organised in the street, which had been closed off for the occasion. As the evening approached long tables appeared from nowhere. Many tablecloths’ were brought from the houses to cover the trestle tables. Then the food appeared from each of the houses; and what food — such things as we children hadn’t ever seen before, such as buns and cakes. Everyone must of have been saving delicacies such as tinned fruit and jellies, blancmange and ice cream for just such an occasion. As dusk started to fall, I remember my father shinning up the lamp standard to put in a bulb to give us light something hardly any of us had ever seen as we had lived through six years of darkness with only torches to show us the way when night fell.

Later on it was the turn of the adults to celebrate in their own way continuing with the party but with barrels of beer and bottles of wine to accompany their feast, the children eventually falling into their beds leaving Mums and Dads and the rest of the families to have a good time.

It was intended to celebrate VJ Day in a similar manner, but it was a much quieter occasion, and only a fraction of the events held that were previously enjoyed on VE Day. I suppose it was because the war in the Far East seemed so remote. It did not affect us in the same way because there were not the air raids and the fighting was so far away.

It was not until the early 1950s when I started work in the City of London that I appreciated what devastation had happened in London and to the London people. It made me so grateful that I had lived where I did in Hounslow, near to what is now Heathrow Airport.

Marianne Robbens (formerly Wood — nee Larchet)

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