by Susie Hodge
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 tw
o 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. There were no lights on railway stations and although platform edges were painted white, there were many accidents and it became fairly common for passengers to get off at the wrong station – or even to get off the train where there was no station at all. Despite the best efforts of the government to be helpful, it was said that more people died from traffic accidents in the blackout than from Nazi bombs.
Evacuation
When it became apparent to many that war was imminent, with Hitler’s continued aggression and particularly after the breaking of the Munich Agreement on 15th March 1939, the British government agreed on mass evacuation. As early as 1938, it was planned that children, mothers of small children, pregnant women, invalids and the elderly would be sent from major cities to safer locations. Public Information Leaflet No. 3 was sent to every household in July 1939. It gave details of the government’s scheme for mass evacuation and on 31st August 1939 at 11.07am, the day before Hitler invaded Poland, the message to “evacuate forthwith” was issued by the government across Britain. Evacuation began the following day, on Friday, 1st September 1939 – two days before the declaration of war. Called “Operation Pied Piper”, within three days, by 4th September, 1.9 million children and other vulnerable people had been evacuated from cities to smaller towns and villages in the countryside. Stan Bell was sent to Upwell in Norfolk with his entire school; Upton House in Hackney.
“On 1st September 1939, everyone in my school assembled with our suitcases and gas masks in the playground, where we were counted. Our parents waited outside the gates. Then we were taken away on coaches by our teachers to catch a train. We had all been given paper labels, which we had to attach to our clothes, displaying our names. We had no idea where we were going, how long we’d be away or when we’d see our parents again. I found out later that the government had provided parents with a list of items to pack and I remember having in my suitcase a toothbrush, towel, underwear, pyjamas and a change of clothing. Most of the children in my school were quite poor and did not own all the listed items, such as boots, a pullover and an overcoat or mackintosh. The train journey seemed a great adventure to us. When we arrived, we were all led into a school hall. Lots of the ladies of the village came to choose children. They all picked the smallest children and soon the hall had emptied, leaving just one other boy and me – we were the tallest, so nobody wanted us – they thought we would eat too much.”
This picking and choosing later became known as “the Slave Auction” as in most areas of evacuation, children were left that nobody wanted. The government paid an allowance to those who opened their homes to evacuees, but it was not much: ten shillings and six pence for one child, with another eight shillings and six pence for a second child, or for a mother and child, five shillings for the mother and three shillings for a child, which barely covered the evacuees’ keep.
When there were no big bombing raids on Britain during the first few months of war, the public began calling it the “Phoney War” and by January 1940, most evacuees had returned to their homes. People stopped carrying gas masks and, although action was occurring out to sea, many civilians thought that the war would never actually happen. Then suddenly, on 9th April 1940, Nazi forces attacked Denmark and Norway. British attempts to help failed and, in May 1940, Neville Chamberlain resigned and Winston Churchill became prime minister. In his inaugural speech to the British people, Churchill said: “I have nothing to offer you but blood, toil, tears and sweat…You ask, what is our aim? I can answer in one word: victory; victory at all costs, victory in spite of all terror, victory, however long and hard the road may be; for without victory, there is no survival… Come then, let us go forward together with our united strength.” Churchill’s inspirational and patriotic urgings did much to uplift and encourage the British public for the next five years.
In June 1940, France fell to Germany and by the end of August 1940; Britain faced the Blitz, with the German air force firstly bombing Birmingham and Liverpool. On 7th September, the bombardment intensified when around 950 German aircraft attacked London during the day, followed by 76 consecutive nights of bombing. The initial daylight raid caused approximately 300 civilian deaths and a further 1,300 serious injuries. As the London raids stopped on 14th November, Coventry was assaulted. Other cities were also bombed as part of the Blitz, including Plymouth, Manchester and Glasgow. In July 1940 another major evacuation took place and within a few weeks 213,000 children left Britain’s large industrial cities for safer locations. The government also set up a Children’s Overseas Reception Board (CORB), which arranged for children to be sent to the USA, Canada and Australia. However, after the steam passenger ship the City of Benares was sunk by a German torpedo on 17th September killing 73 children, the programme was stopped.
Unlike the well-organised and planned evacuation programme of September 1939, this second phase was more improvised. Rather than being evacuat
ed in large groups, such as entire schools, individuals made their own arrangements, helped by the government with the “Assisted Private Evacuation Scheme”. This involved financial support for travel and accommodation for those who made their own arrangements. This phase of evacuation lasted until the end of 1941, but many who moved, stayed away until the end of the war. Meanwhile, although the government urged the public to move children and other vulnerable people to safer areas, it always stressed that evacuation was voluntary; many chose to stay at home and take their chances rather than break up their families. In the first phase, of the five and a half million who qualified, only about a third actually went. Long after the war, Kitty Pink, who lived in London with her daughter, sister and nephew, maintained that: “If we were going to die, we decided we would all die together.”
Shelters
Despite Chamberlain’s optimism in September 1938, preparations for civilian protection in the event of war had continued unabated. In November 1938, two months after he had made his ill-fated agreement with Hitler, the prime minister gave Sir John Anderson, then Lord Privy Seal, responsibility for preparing air raid precautions. Numerous services were set up and local authorities began digging trenches in public parks and gardens. By the time war was declared, an estimated 500,000 people could be accommodated in the communal shelters that had been built in concrete over the trenches. Made to hold up to 50 people each, they ultimately proved to be uncomfortable, damp and smelly and they frequently flooded. Anderson also commissioned an engineer, William Patterson, to design a small, cheap shelter that could be erected in people’s gardens.
