The Home Front in World War Two

Keep Calm and Carry On

Susie Hodge

• Publisher: Pen & Sword Social
• Year: 2020
• Print ISBN: 9781848848184
• eBook ISBN: 9781783469796
• Topic: History
• Subtopic: British History
• Index: History

This book brings an era to life with vivid stories and information from those who were there. During World War Two, 90% of the British population remained civilians. The War affected daily life more than any other war had done before. The majority of British people faced this will fortitude, courage and determination and this is their story, the telling of events and situations that forced their ingenuity and survival instincts to rise. Make do and mend came to mean so much more than reworking old clothes and this book describes the enterprise that went on and has long been forgotten. From the coasts and the countryside, this is how those at home faced and fought the war passively, particularly women whose job it was to keep the home fires burning. These ordinary people were crucial to the war effort; without their courage and inventiveness, the outcome could have been very different. Packed with interviews, photographs and other firsthand information, this book will appeal to all those who were there, but even more for those with little or no experience of World War Two, who will gain insights into the humor, strength and creativity that emerged in the face of hardship and tragedy. The book explores how people lived in Britain during times of fear, hardship and uncertainty; how they functioned and supported those away fighting and how they dealt with the enormous challenges and adversities

1

THE HOME FRONT

“There may be dark days ahead, and war can no longer be confined to the battlefield, but we can only do the right as we see the right…” King George VI, 3rd September 1939

Preparing for war

At least a year before it actually started, Britain began preparing for war. After World War One, there was an underlying sense of fear in many countries as the ideologies of Communism, Socialism and Fascism prompted violent reactions in unexpected quarters. In 1932 Shanghai was bombed by Japan and in 1937, in the Spanish Civil War, the Basque town of Guernica was bombed by Hitler’s Luftwaffe. Within a year, the British government started building new warships and increasing its arms, but it realised that another war, following on so soon from the 1914-18 Great War and the Depression of the early 1930s, would not just involve soldiers; it would disrupt and threaten the lives of civilians in Britain more than any other previous conflict. So along with building weapons and warships, the government began taking precautions against anticipated dangers and difficulties that might be faced at home.

“Sleep quietly in your beds”

Planning for an integrated home defence was intensified and information leaflets began being produced on practically every aspect of living. The first of these leaflets to be distributed to every British household had been drawn up in 1937. On 30th September 1938, the prime minister Neville Chamberlain returned from Germany, waving a document and declaring to waiting crowds: “This bears Herr Hitler’s name and mine, vowing that our two countries will never again go to war against each other.” That night, from a window of 10 Downing Street, he addressed more joyous crowds: “I believe it is peace for our time. Go home and sleep quietly in your beds.” Less than a year later, after continued aggression by Hitler and his forces invaded Poland, a disconsolate Chamberlain broadcast from the Cabinet Room that Hitler had defaulted on his part of the agreement and consequently, Britain was at war with Germany.

In July 1939, every household in Britain had received four official Civil Defence pamphlets. Pamphlet number one was called Some Things You Should Know If War Should Come. While trying not to alarm readers, it outlined the main schemes being prepared by the authorities and explained that ‘it is everyone’s duty to be prepared for the possibility of war.’ The almost constant supply of information from the authorities to the public continued throughout the war, motivating, encouraging, informing, controlling and overwhelmingly trying to protect citizens and win the war. At this time most people, although realising that war was probable, did not know what to expect. They did not then know that Hitler would try to beat them into submission; that the demands on those living through it at home would be massive, leaving them exhausted and impoverished, but that they would rise to the occasion and develop a resilience and optimism that would become legendary.

The British public at that time were more deferential and compliant than they are today. They followed the government’s advice and recommendations dutifully and unquestioningly, believing it was in the national interest to do so. From the moment war was declared, advice came pouring in from all quarters, from booklets and leaflets to magazine and newspaper articles, as well as posters, films (at the cinema) and messages on the radio (wireless). Posters showed how to put on a gas mask, how to plant vegetables, and how to collect scrap metal and they declared “coughs and sneezes spread diseases, catch your germs in your handkerchiefs”, “careless words cost lives” and “Be like Dad, keep Mum”. Recipes for using powdered egg, powdered potato and dried apple rings abounded and posters, radio, films and newspapers were used to keep up people’s spirits, to make the most of victories and to make fun of the enemy. This government propaganda was vital throughout the war as a means of communication and of boosting morale – and the people welcomed it – but being individuals, they also used their own ingenuity wherever they could. It was very much a period of encouraging people to help themselves and others and the abundance of information and advice was generally welcomed as support during a time of genuine fear and uncertainty.

Austerity begins

Before war was declared, the government encouraged all to plant vegetables on any spare land they may have to supplement the rationing that would almost certainly occur. The many pamphlets sent to households contained information on what to do in situations such as air raids or gas attacks, as well as on how to make rations stretch further and how to keep healthy. As a safety measure, from the moment war was declared, cinemas, dance halls and other places of entertainment were closed, but after widespread objections it was realised that the nation needed entertainment to sustain its spirits and within a week most had re-opened.

One of the many early and unexpected consequences of shortages was the shrinking of newspapers. As paper rationing came into force, most newspapers diminished and for the duration of the war, the majority struggled to include more than eight pages. The Times maintained eight to 10 pages for a while; The Daily Express had between 10 to 24 pages until mid-1940, while The Star, The Evening Standard and the Daily Mirror kept to eight pages for most of the war. Naturally, all newspapers were crammed full of reports on the war’s progression, usually as much uplifting news as possible and also squeezed in were football and cricket bulletins and film and theatre reviews. Wasting no space, newspapers were invaluable as one of the primary means through which people at home found out what was happening in the war.

Petrol was rationed from September 1939. Initially, a small allowance was permitted for domestic vehicles, but this stopped by the summer of 1942. It soon became apparent that driving was not practical and most personal vehicles were put out of action “for the duration”; a phrase that became commonly used to describe the extent of the war. Petrol rationing initially provoked complaints, although the overwhelming attitude among the British throughout the period was stoical; that the war had to be won whatever it took. Even if drivers had enough petrol however, the dangers of driving in the blackout led to a 20mph speed limit being introduced after dark. Train travel was not restricted, but people were asked to consider each journey. Posters queried “Is your journey really necessary?” Taking fewer journeys was partly to conserve fuel and partly to leave room for travelling servicemen and women. Inevitably, there was a surge in the use of buses, resulting in queues and overcrowding. Most people travelling short distances walked or cycled, but the companies who made pushbikes were now producing aircraft parts and weapons, so bicycles became highly sought after. Due to the shortage of natural latex, scientists collaborated and synthetic Butyl rubber was invented to create inner tubes. This was one example of enterprise that was triggered by the war that changed the lives of many throughout the world – both then and into the twenty-first century.

Masks, balloons and cards

Fearing that poison gas bombs would be dropped by the German Luftwaffe over Britain, the British government decided to issue gas masks to everyone. The second leaflet that households had received in July 1939 dealt with gas masks – how to store them and how to put them on. By 1940, 38 million gas masks in cardboard boxes had been distributed across Britain. Adult masks were black while children had “Mickey Mouse” masks with red rubber pieces and bright eye rims. Babies were put inside large containers that mothers had to pump full of air. Jean Pink remembered:

“When war broke out, I was five years old and living in Edgware in North London. As soon as war started, my mum, my auntie and I pushed my cousin in his pram to a church hall to collect our gas masks. I was given a Mickey Mouse mask but it was so scary, I screamed! So they gave me a black one like my mum’s and auntie’s, which was still terrifying. Everyone looked menacing in them. They had bits that jutted-out with holes in and a rubber hood to stretch over your face, secured at the back with a thick rubber strap. When you put your mask on, it was hot inside and difficult to breathe. The strong smell of the rubber made me feel sick. Just as frightening was the ‘mask’ they covered my little cousin Michael’s whole pram with. Michael didn’t like it, which made us both cry. Every time I left the house, my mum or auntie would say ‘Have you got your gas mask?’ We weren’t allowed anywhere without them in their bulky cardboard boxes. Cinemas wouldn’t allow us in without them and we even had to carry them if we were playing in the street.

At about the same time, a field nearby was filled with barrage balloons which were sent up into the sky to deter any German pilots trying to fly over London. In the sky, the barrage balloons looked small and harmless, but on the ground, they were enormous and terrifying.”

With the fear of poison gas bombs, the government recruited chemists as local Gas Identification Squads. Between them they wrote a “Chart of War Gases”, which was distributed throughout Britain. To help the public identify the various types of poisons that might be dropped, the chart listed tear gases, choking gases, blister gases, nose irritant gases and systematic poisoning gas, with information about first aid and treatment for each. The tops of post boxes were painted with yellowish-green gas detector paint that would change colour if there was a gas attack. A popular book was published: ARP – A Practical Guide for the Householder and Air Raid Warden containing a section called “Hints for householders to prepare for an emergency”.

Since 1938, the government had introduced a system of air raid warnings, which was practised so that everyone was sure of what they had to do when they heard them. To warn people that there was gas about, after the usual siren warning of imminent bombings, Air Raid Wardens would sound the gas rattle and then everyone would know to put on their gas masks. The gas “all-clear” was the ringing of hand bells. Not carrying gas masks was a punishable offence, but a survey in November 1940 suggested that only about seventy-five per cent of people in London were obeying this rule. Air Raid Wardens were instructed to carry out monthly inspections of gas masks and to fine anyone caught without a mask. If a person lost theirs they had to pay for its replacement.

Barrage balloons

In the skies overhead, massive, whale-like silver-grey barrage balloons became a common sight. These enormous objects obscured important sites from the sky and forced the German pilots to fly higher, so their bombing would be less accurate. Each barrage balloon was three times the size of a cricket pitch, filled half with hydrogen and half with natural air and anchored by steel cables fixed to stationary lorries. Amid the sights of these huge floating balloons were the deafening sounds of anti-aircraft, or “ack-ack” guns.

Identity cards

By the end of September 1939, every person in Britain had been issued with an identity card; green for adults and brown for children under 16. Mainly because of fears of invasion by German spies, ID cards had to be carried by everyone and shown at checkpoints. Later, the cards were used as proof of identity for ration books. Because they had become so valuable, there were many forgeries and thefts of ID cards.

Saucepans for spitfires

On his appointment as Minister of Supply in 1940, Lord Beaverbrook began by establishing concealed munitions factories in disused mines and went on to launch a press campaign, asking the public to donate aluminium pots and pans to make fighter aircraft. “Give us your spare pots and pans and we will turn them into Spitfires and Hurricanes, Blenheims and Wellingtons” ran the headline. In response, the public donated over 70,000 tons of aluminium. In 1941 the government passed an order requisitioning all post-1850 iron gates and railings for the war effort, with a few exceptions made for items of particular historic interest.

Contemporary observers reported council workmen cutting down gates and railings, leaving only stumps behind. Yet a mystery surrounds the activity as there are fewer eyewitness reports of all the metal reaching factories. It is not certain whether all or any of it was actually used as intended. It is now believed by many that most of the metal collected (over one million tons of iron by September 1944) was not able to be used for the purpose and was scrapped. Yet the government continued the collection as it helped to boost morale; people felt that they were assisting the fight against Hitler and helping to win the war.

Blackout

On 1st September 1939, two days before the outbreak of war and following a trial run in July of that year, the whole of Britain was blacked out. Every evening between the hours of sunset and sunrise, everyone covered their windows and other openings, so that not a glimmer of light was visible from outside. Black or blue light bulbs were available, which gave off a subdued light and ARP wardens patrolled the streets to make sure that not even a speck of light could be seen. ARP wardens had the authority to report families who allowed light to show, which could lead to a heavy fine or a court appearance. Public Information Leaflet No. 2 that had been delivered to every household that July included instructions on how to put on gas masks, how to store them and how to black out homes effectively, listing suitable fabrics for blackout curtains and blinds. These included glazed Holland, Lancaster or Italian cloth; all densely woven fabrics. Although there were no grants or subsidies for blacking out, the government tried to ensure that there was enough blackout material available in the shops. In most cases people bought plain black cotton as it was readily available and cheap (usually around two shillings a yard). But haberdashers did run short and people had to dye lighter coloured materials, following a recipe given in newspapers and magazines or making up their own. The trouble with the cheapest cotton was that it was fairly thin so it needed to be folded into two or three thicknesses before it obliterated the light completely. People were advised to test material by holding a piece against an electric light bulb. If no light showed through or only scattered pinholes of light could be seen, then the fabric was dense enough for use in the blackout. If not, another recipe was available for treating fabrics that were not opaque enough. Using a similar method and ingredients as dyeing, this involved mixing size (fabric stiffener), lamp black powder and boiling water and soaking the material in the mixture for about an hour, then wringing it out and hanging it up to dry. This was just one way that householders used their ingenuity to create effective blackouts. Some made internal shutters out of card, securing it round each window frame with battens, so sealing in the light, but also shutting out fresh air. Others used heavy calico nailed to strong wooden frames for a similar effect. Many people attached more brightly coloured and patterned fabrics to the insides of their blackout screens and some sewed on white or silver cut-out star and moon shapes to make their homes less gloomy. Daphne Roberts, a child living in Plaistow recollects:

“I remember having black curtains between the window and our usual, coloured curtains and how we covered the windows with sticky tape in case they shattered in the blasts. Some people put boards up at their windows. It felt quite airless.”

If they were not able to afford fabric, some people simply painted the insides of their windows and skylights black or navy, rendering their homes dark at all times, which did not do a lot for morale. Jean Pink recalled her childhood in London:

“Every evening as the light faded, we had to rush around our house, pulling curtains tightly so that no chink of light showed in the street. We had made blackout curtains for the windows, but over the road at my friend’s house, they painted their little bathroom window black and used painted card at some other windows. We also had to criss-cross our windows with sticky tape to prevent flying splinters of glass if a bomb came close. If any light showed from the outside, you’d get a knock on the door from an ARP warden who would call out: ‘Put that light out!’ It was a criminal offence to show any light and you could be fined.”

Shop signs and reception areas of public buildings were unlit. Low-density street lighting was allowed in some parts of Britain, but no lighting at all was allowed within 12 miles of the south-east coast. Vehicles were fitted with visors; horizontal slits across the headlights that meant they could only illuminate the road a short way ahead. Traffic lights were also fitted with slotted covers to deflect the light downwardly. At first, people were worried even to strike a match and pedestrians were urged to “wear something white at night” so they would be seen by drivers. White lines were painted along the middle of some roads, on kerb edges, around trees and lamp-posts and on car bumpers in an attempt to make it a little easier to see and be seen.

The lighting on buses was dimmed and small, low-density blue-painted light bulbs were fitted in railway carriages while blinds were pulled down after dusk, so passengers travelled in semi-darkness. Trains and buses had netting pasted on to the windows as a precaution against the dangers of shattering glass. Ther...

Table of contents

• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Table of Contents
• INTRODUCTION
• 1 - THE HOME FRONT
• 2 - WOMEN AT WAR
• 3 - NO BANANAS
• 4 - DIGGING FOR VICTORY
• 5 - YOUR BATTLE ORDERS
• 6 - THE CLOTHES DOCTOR
• 7 - DOING THEIR BIT
• 8 - HOME LIFE
• 9 - OUTSIDE THE HOME
• 10 - AFTERMATH
• BIBLIOGRAPHY
• ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
• INDEX