There were to have been street parties across Britain today, celebrating 75 years since VE day. Because of Covid-19, most celebrations will be private affairs. For many people, I suspect that’s how they would prefer things to be anyway. In any event, I am slightly uncomfortable with the word celebration. To my mind, it’s more of a commemoration.
As the anniversary approached, I decided to re-watch the epic TV series ‘The World At War’. I’m a few episodes in and I am finding it harrowing to watch. Already, there have been terrible scenes of death and destruction as Hitler’s fascist army marched across Europe. And with every death, there were countless personal heartbreaks, losses that would change lives forever.
My mother, who lived in Rotterdam, described to me her life under occupation. Her family lost two homes and all their possessions within weeks as the Germans swarmed across the Netherlands. For years, they lived off scraps and small birds my grandfather could catch on the verandah. With no cooking facilities, everything was served raw.
My father survived the effects of a Luftwaffe bomb that landed and exploded in the courtyard next to his school classroom during a lesson at school and age 15, perhaps even 14, he chose to enlist with the Liberty ships that sailed across the North Atlantic waters, which were infested with U-boats, to bring supplies for desperate Britons.
They were happy when the war was over, but this was tempered by the things they saw, the losses they suffered. My mum saw marines killed on the streets, saw Jews rounded up and marched off to trains that would take them to concentration camps, saw her early life stolen from her. Rotterdam lay in ruins after the war. There was more relief than celebration.
When I lived in Brislington, there were older people along my road who told me about the war. There were street parties but many people were too upset and distressed to attend. Britain was still under severe rationing. People were sick of Vera Lynn. They just wanted peace, jobs and bread on the table. Certainly, there was light in the darkness but the scars were deep.
I will certainly raise a glass to those who served their country, many of whom paid the ultimate prize. My generation and every generation that followed owes them their freedom and the lives they enjoy today.
Comparisons with the Covid-19 crisis are pointless. Despite all the rhetoric, we are not at war with ‘an invisible enemy’. You choose to fight wars. No one picked a war with a deadly virus, which has tragically taken many of our surviving heroes from World War Two, including nine Chelsea pensioners.
By all means celebrate VE day. The freedom our heroes bequeathed to us and means we can react however we like or not react at all. I shall certainly pause to think on what I see is a sombre day and later raise a glass to those who went before, who were the very best of us.
I leave you with the words of prime minister Boris Johnson:
“Seventy-five years ago today, the people of this country celebrated victory against Hitler’s aggression.
“On the frontline, they fought with courage, ingenuity and endurance, and on the home front, women defended our cities against air raids, worked the factories, and ran the hospitals.
“This country triumphed thanks to the heroism of countless ordinary people, and because of this, hundreds of millions of people now live in peace and freedom today
“Today we must celebrate their achievement, and we remember their sacrifice.
“We are a free people because of everything our veterans did – we offer our gratitude, our heartfelt thanks and our solemn pledge: you will always be remembered.”
