8 May 1945 was VE Day 鈥 a day of celebration to mark the Allied victory in Europe. It was also a day in which the 大象传媒 would try to capture the mood not just of Britain, but of the wider world. As these newly-released archives reveal, however, there was in fact no single 鈥榤ood鈥 to be captured: joy and relief was mingled with exhaustion, foreboding, and sometimes anger.
For many Britons, VE Day began in confusion. The previous day millions had been following the news on the wireless, knowing that Nazi Germany had already surrendered and hearing that Churchill was going to say something at some point.
Was there going to be a holiday declared for the next day? Would the holiday begin when Churchill spoke, or before? 鈥榃e grouse at the way the public has been built up to this point only to be let down by official news鈥, one diarist recorded.
Twenty-four hours later, there was little doubt that this particular Tuesday was something special. But the mood of celebration was difficult to pin-down. In London, a young clerk noticed that all through the East End, 鈥榯he battered little streets鈥 were 鈥榞ay with bunting鈥.
A nurse in Leeds thought everyone seemed happy, too, but also subdued 鈥 鈥榣ost and off their bearings鈥, she wrote in her diary, 鈥榖ecause all at once their best 鈥渢oy鈥 had been taken away from them 鈥 the war!鈥
The 大象传媒 stuck with its toy, and approached the day as if it was covering another large battle on the western front: outside broadcast units were set-up around the country, special transmitters and phone-lines were leased, seasoned war correspondents were stationed at strategic locations, and vast numbers of people were paraded before the microphone to share their stories and experiences, not just of the day but the past six years.
The ringing of church bells was to be a running-theme. It was one of the ways in which the 大象传媒 tried to weave into its output sounds from all corners of Britain. George Budden, a recording engineer based in Manchester, was one of those who had been busy preparing behind-the-scenes:
It was a measure of how far the 大象传媒 had come since September 1939, when it had suddenly been subject to Government control, that its VE Day programmes in May 1945 pointedly avoided endless political speeches and long-winded orations from military leaders.
Such figures had their turn on the nation鈥檚 airwaves. But so too did Mrs Peacock of Tan Hill.
Indeed, the full schedule of programmes for VE Day 鈥 which can be downloaded below 鈥 makes fascinating reading:
Looking through its pages, we see that the King has his expected slot, and that Churchill is there, too, speaking from 10 Downing Street at 15.00. There is Big Ben, religious services, the national anthem: all the rituals one might expect from a national public broadcaster of upright standing.
Yet there鈥檚 also plenty of dance music, light music, sing-along variety shows, Bing Crosby. And when it comes to the big set-piece VE Day programmes, we get outside broadcasts from the streets of Belfast, Cardiff, Swansea, Birmingham, Liverpool, Newcastle, Glasgow, Portsmouth.
There are messages from miners in South Wales and there鈥檚 community singing from Bangor. The war correspondent Chester Wilmot pops up via a mobile transmitter somewhere in Germany, to speak not just to a Wing-Commander, but a private and a driver; later, we hear from a dock worker in Belfast. It鈥檚 a deliberate attempt to transcend boundaries of class and region and taste.
It鈥檚 also strikingly 鈥榣ive鈥 鈥 either literally, or in style. This can be heard in one of the climactic moments of the day鈥檚 coverage, when, at around quarter-past midnight, Stewart McPherson reports live on the scene鈥檚 around him at Piccadilly Circus.
As always, a great deal of hidden labour went into programmes like these. Back in Broadcasting House, Mary Lewis and her team in the Duplicating Section had been working overtime once more to type-up and copy all the extra scripts that were needed throughout the day:
If the celebrations in London were a little nerve-wracking for some, the mood over in Germany was, inevitably, distinctly more sombre. And the 大象传媒 tried to convey this, too, in broadcasting an extraordinary dispatch from its war correspondent Wynford Vaughan Thomas:
Even in Britain, too, not everyone felt able to celebrate freely. The 大象传媒鈥檚 evening Victory Report included a short but moving comment from a Mrs MacDonald in Glasgow 鈥 who reminded listeners of families still grieving for lives lost and of battles beyond Europe still to be fought:
There was, of course, much partying 鈥 both on air and off. In between the outside broadcasts and special features, the 大象传媒 supplied plenty of celebratory dance music: Teddy Foster and his Band from Covent Garden, Lew Stone and his Band from Southampton, Melville Christie and his Orchestra from Amesbury, Eddy McGarry and his Orchestra from the Majestic Ballroom in Accrington.
In Somerset, Muriel Green had the day off from the hostel for factory-staff where she worked, and later wrote in her diary for Mass Observation of the events unfolding at the local village hall that night:
The radio鈥檚 lively programme of music was on and dozens of village children appeared on the scene with fireworks and crackers鈥 We stood watching it for a long time and about quarter to 11 went into the dance hall鈥 I have never seen such signs of unrestricted merry-making鈥 The romping continued till the end of the radio music and with exhaustion the circles were broken up.
Quoted in Dorothy Sheridan (ed.), Wartime Women: A Mass Observation Anthology, 1937-45 (2009)
Yet after every party, there is perhaps the hangover. On 17 May, Mass Observation received a rather despairing diary entry from one of its contributors in London. 鈥業t is little more than a week since VE-Day鈥, he wrote, 鈥榖ut already the reaction is setting in. I find the news extremely depressing. Britain and the US seem to be at loggerheads with the USSR鈥 There seems to be nothing but strife and confusion ahead when we should be seeing the bright skies of peace 鈥 and we are all feeling tired and hardly capable of coping with it.鈥
Nearly six years previously, on 1 September 1939, John Daligan had spent the evening drinking in the pubs of the West End to mark leaving his job as a Broadcasting House lift attendant so he could join-up.
Six months after VE Day he returned to Britain from Burma, after what he described as 鈥榯he most arduous and formative years that anyone could have lived鈥. It was then that he discovered a 大象传媒 that wasn鈥檛 ready to treat him well:
The 大象传媒 had had a good war. It had navigated the delicate issue of Government oversight without being forced to abandon its principled commitment to broadcasting truth. It had grown immensely as a news-gathering organisation.
It had played its role well in nurturing morale and providing clandestine support across occupied Europe. And by becoming more relaxed about embracing popular tastes in music and comedy, it had convinced a fair few British listeners that it was perhaps 鈥榝or us鈥 as much as it was 鈥榝or them鈥.
Inside, too, it had embodied something of the Blitz spirit 鈥 a slightly mythical notion which nevertheless conveyed something of the very real camaraderie which helped people get through the grim realities of life under siege.
Yet Daligan鈥檚 tale of an 鈥榚mbittered and somewhat disillusioned鈥 return at the end of war is a reminder that, for all that had changed, the 大象传媒 still had some of its old rigidities and hierarchies.
Daligan had to campaign hard for decent work and pay in 1946. Not so Godfrey Talbot, who enjoyed the benefits of his higher-profile war-reporting career - and a chance to build the future of journalism at the Corporation:
There was a new post-war 大象传媒 that needed to be built. But as John Daligan reminds us in this last extract from his oral history interview, there was also a difficult and depressing world to be faced 鈥 and to be reported on if Godfrey Talbot and his newsroom colleagues felt so inclined: a world filled with damaged buildings, shortages, austerity, coldness.
Further reading:
- Juliet Gardiner, Wartime: Britain 1939-1945 (2004)
- Dorothy Sheridan (ed.), Wartime Women: A Mass Observation Anthology, 1937-45 (2009)