I’ve been toying with the idea of self-publishing for some time, but yesterday I took the plunge and uploaded a short memoir of my pilgrimage to the beaches of Dunkirk in 2009 to Amazon.
My dad was one of 340,000 soldiers evacuated from the beaches of Dunkirk in May 1940 following the German invasion of Belgium, Holland and France. Dad died when I was in my early twenties. He never really talked about his experiences, but in 2009 I visited France with my friend Anna. Not only did we walk the full length of the beach from De Panne in Belgium to Dunkirk in France in his memory, but we also had the honour of meeting a real Dunkirk veteran and talking to him about his time on the beach 69 years earlier.
And then… I met an elderly man who had known my father all those years ago; who had lived in the house next door to where Dad was billeted for six months.
If you’re interested in reading the story, please click hereto purchase a copy. I’ve also included several photos from my journey on the In My Father’s Footsteps link at the top of this page.
I found Friday’s remembrances of the 70th anniversary of D-Day very moving, but perhaps for many of us the story that stood out was the journey 89 year-old Bernard Jordan took from his care home in Hove to join his colleagues in France. It’s already been nicknamed The Great Escape, and I’m sure within a few weeks there will be a film in the pipeline.
Quite rightly, the emphasis this weekend was on the veterans and thousands upon thousands of young men who died on those beaches and in the months following the invasion. But it got me to wondering about the news the British people received, listening to the radio or reading the papers to find out what was happening to their loved ones.
Once again, I turned to The Glasgow Herald of June 7th, 1944 for some insights and gathered together a collection of tidbits that appealed to me.
Whereas other papers’ headlines screamed Invasion, with only 8 pages available (because of paper rationing) The Glasgow Herald wasted little space on pictures and remained as understated as ever. On the front page were the usual blackout times (Glasgow 11.57pm until 4.34am) and notifications of births, marriages and deaths. The current entertainment available at the city’s theatres was listed (including the Half-Past Eight Show mentioned in last week’s blog) as well as a programme of musical concerts in city parks.
But the Invasion did make its presence known on the front page with notices from city churches informing the faithful of special prayers and services for ‘our King and County and Allies and for the Forces now invading Europe’. Glasgow Cathedral offered two services at noon and 3pm for ‘those engaged in the Second Front Operation’.
The Late News column referenced a German report which talked of ‘grim fighting’ between Havre and Cherbourg being the ‘bloodiest of the day’ with several hundred Canadian paratroopers wiped out or forced to surrender.
German Overseas Radio denied any fighting in Caen. ‘Mr Churchill’s reference about fighting in Caen is untrue. No enemy troops have penetrated into the city, therefore no fighting has taken place in Caen.’
Page two carried the Colonial Secretary being forced to deny a ‘silly and harmful story’ which had had much circulation, particularly in America, to the effect that America was being charged for every palm tree they destroyed in battles for the recovery of British possessions.
When talking about the history of invasion in Europe, one columnist pointed out that Caen had been the HQ of William The Conqueror before he turned his sights on England in 1066.
Eisenhower apparently carried seven old coins in his pocket – one being an ancient five guinea piece. He is said to have given these mascots a rub before the Italian invasion and everyone hoped that the mascots would do as good a job again.
Regarding the Invasion of Italy and France, it had been decided by Roosevelt and Churchill at the Casablanca Conference in 1943 that an invasion of the west would be deferred until the Allies had cleared the Mediterranean and knocked out Italy.
Page 3 contained Scottish news with detailed Invasion news starting on page 4.
The Invasion was originally scheduled for Monday June 5th, but postponed for 24 hours because of bad weather.
German Radio admitted the Allies had a foothold 10-15 miles long and nearly a mile deep in France.
Allied landings also took place on Guernsey and Jersey in the Channel Islands.
Hitler was reported to have taken charge of the military response to the invasion.
Between midnight and 8am on June 6th, an estimated 31,000 Allied airmen flew over France. 1,300 Fortresses and Liberators began their attack at 6am ending at 8.30am.
Priority was being given for troops’ mail so that both the men in the front line and their relatives and friends at home should receive regular deliveries of letters.
One hour before they left for the beaches, the troops enjoyed a meal of pork chops and plum duff. Each solder was then given a ‘landing ration’ – a bag of chocolate and biscuits and cigarettes for ‘consumption while waiting’.
Civilian workmen and villagers who had seen anything of the preparations at an American airfield were detained in the camp by the authorities for 48 hours until news of the landings were released.
125,000,000 maps were used by the US invasion forces.
Eisenhower broadcast a Call to the People of Europe: The hour of your liberation is approaching. All patriots, men and women, young and old, have a part to play in the achievement of final victory.
General Montgomery wished the troops ‘Good Hunting in Europe’.
And then, on pages 7 and 8 it was back to normal with commodity markets, situations vacant, property, livestock and farms for sale. A five-room terraced house with kitchen and scullery could be bought for 800 pounds. So much for the biggest invasion force the world had ever seen.
If you ever get the opportunity to watch the film The Longest Day, I highly recommend it. It’s a comprehensive view of the events of June 6th, 1944 from all sides involved.
On Monday morning, I’ll be sending my novel – Invincible Summer – out into the world in search of an agent. It’s a story I love and have carried in my heart for many years, so I will be releasing it from my laptop with hope… and not a little trepidation.
Invincible Summer tells the story of Maggie MacDonald, a twenty-one year-old Scottish nurse, who finds herself thrown into the crucible of World War Two when she volunteers for the Queen Alexandra Imperial Military Nursing Service. Despite facing many dangers, Maggie survives the war, but struggles to survive the peace.
I always find it interesting to find out where authors find the inspiration for their stories, so here’s a little background on Invincible Summer.
Back in 19-something or other, I received a commission as a Lieutenant in the Queen Alexandra Royal Army Nursing Corps – Reserve. (QARANC) The Reserve part means that I was in the Territorial Army, living my normal daily life, attending training sessions once a week and a minimum of two full training weekends a year. Should Britain have gone to war, I would have been called up to serve with the Military Hospital to which I was attached.
I also had the opportunity to attend a one-week Junior Officers Training Course in Aldershot, and during that time, we were taken to visit the QA Museum. (Now part of the Army Medical Services Museum.) There were all kinds of fascinating items on display, but two objects in particular caught my attention and ultimately inspired Invincible Summer.
The first was a rosary made from tiny bits of tar, looped together with thread taken from the uniform worn by an inmate Roman Catholic priest at Belsen Concentration camp. As I remember it, he gave it to the QA who ‘saved his life’. Until that time I hadn’t realised British army nurses had been amongst the first military personnel into the concentration camps following their liberation in 1945. Accounts of what they experienced are horrific, but those young women cared for their patients with kindness and professionalism.
The second was a QA cape. Inside were sewn army badges from many of the patients its owner had cared for; soldiers from all services in the British Army, Canadians, Australians and more. Remember that most of these QAs were young women in their early 20s, fresh out of nursing training. As commander of the British Army, Field Marshall Montgomery ordered that QAs serve as close to the front line as possible to raise the morale of the fighting soldiers. And whereas nurses in civilian hospitals were expressly forbidden to wear make-up or perfume, a hint of lippy and scent was actively encouraged amongst the QAs – again to raise morale.
That week in Aldershot, I also had the opportunity to meet the inspiring Dame Margot Turner who I have spoken about in a previous blog. (Someone really needs to make a film about her life!) And I also picked up a book where I learned that at the start of World War Two there were six hundred and forty or so serving QAs scattered around what was still the British Empire. However, less than ten months later, 1,300 young QAs found themselves standing shoulder to shoulder with the soldiers of the British Expeditionary Force awaiting rescue from the beaches of Dunkirk. Until then, I had NO idea there were army nurses at Dunkirk.
The road to submitting Invincible Summer has been a long one. Working with my writing partner Margaret Thomson, we drew up a first draft of a novel entitled ‘Promises’ which told the story of 3 young student nurses who meet in Glasgow in 1936 and follows their lives through to 1946. We followed that up with an idea for a TV series, ‘The Scarlet and The Grey’, focusing on 4 QAs in a Field Hospital in World War 2 France. A major British production company shopped The Scarlet and The Grey around the TV networks… but sadly it didn’t get picked up.
And now comes Invincible Summer. Please wish it well as it sets out on its journey in search of a publisher.
Having just been to see the film Monuments Men this afternoon, I’m back in WW2 mode! But this time with a little bit of a twist.
During my research for my month of eating rations in January, I came across these two books.
The interesting twist on both these books is that not only do they give you a sense of what life was like for women during WW2, but they also bring it up to date: How to be a wartime woman in the 21st Century.
Also, here are two great websites. The first concentrates mostly on wartime recipes, the second (which I only discovered last week) examines women’s lives in the 30s and 40s with an interesting emphasis on the Australian experience.
There might have been a war going on, but as some excerpts from articles in The Glasgow Herald on January 23rd, 1942 show, in amongst the war related news, real life carried on as usual.
Copeland and Lye’s shop on Sauchiehall Street advertised their cafe as a ‘Cheery Meeting Place’ where John McArthur’s Orchestra played daily from 12.30-2pm and then again from 3-5.15pm. (Obviously no muzak in those days.)
Two RAF planes collided mid-air killing seven in Prince Edward Island, Canada.
It was illegal for shopkeepers to offer to wrap customers’ goods in paper unless it was food or the goods were to be delivered.
No sun was recorded in Glasgow for the week ending January 3rd,1942. The rainfall was 1.06 inches, the mean maximum temperature was 43.9F (6.6C) and the mean minimum temperature was 34.3F (1.2C)
In the three weeks since January 1st, 19 people were killed (by traffic) on Glasgow streets with 239 injured. This was an improvement on the same time period in 1941 when 29 people were killed and 360 injured.
British film star Jessie Matthews, then living and working in New York, was reported out of danger following a serious illness. She was diagnosed as suffering from nervous exhaustion caused by rehearsing for her new show while continuing with her war-work. Recuperation was expected to last several months.
A teacher of French to Leaving Certificate standard was wanted immediately for a school evacuated to Upper Deeside. Classes were small, the post was resident, there would be no house duty and weekends were free. A retired or married teacher might accept the post as war work.
Alexander J McKenzie was presented with a Diploma from the Royal Humane Society. An explosion at the docks threw a man into the River Clyde. Mr McKenzie, at great risk to himself, dived in and brought the man to safety.
Two fifteen year-old girls were killed instantaneously at a factory in Lincolnshire.
Court News from Buckingham Palace. Lady Katharine Seymour succeeded Lady Delia Peel as Lady-in-Waiting to the Queen.
The ration for margarine was reduced from 5ozs per person weekly to 4ozs. Butter remained at 2 ozs per person.
One British Pound was worth $4.43Cdn and $4.021US.
The final day of my four-week experiment. I invited the family around for lunch – just something casual to use up the remains of my rations: vegetable soup, rolls with a variety of fillings (bacon/cheese/egg mayonnaise), potato scones and apple/pear crumble to finish. The only thing no-one touched was the red cabbage coleslaw. (They don’t know what they were missing.)
I would like to say a huge thank you to Anne for sharing so many of her memories as a child growing up during the war years. Recipes can always be found in books, but personal memories are priceless.
So, in closing, here are Anne’s thoughts of how the war directly affected her life.
The change to living in a quiet village after the hustle of Glasgow and its varied populations from slums to patrician ‘big houses’ made a big impression. The change from a house where there was nowhere outside to play and I wasn’t encouraged to invite friends home, to the freedom of the fields and moors and woods: all this made me determined always to live in the country if possible.
When I was desperately looking for a home (in the early 60s), I was so glad when the cottage was offered; I knew we were going to be miserably poor for a while and in a village all ‘classes’ live cheek by jowl and rub shoulders, including in the school. The only alternative was a miserable flat in Nottingham.
Minor impressions: my father cursing Hitler when he was trying to make my gas-mask fit properly – the searchlights on the Clydebank nights – the utter impossibility of finding nice things for birthday etc presents – the joy of the young, enthusiastic teachers at Balfron instead of the elderly disillusioned ladies at Hillhead.
Worst memory: sitting in a cinema a few months after VE Day, just finished watching a Hollywood musical when Belsen flashed on to the screen – top story in the News report. That will never leave my memory – sickening shock. Could a whole nation be capable of such inhumanity? Of course not, but they let it happen, and it happened.
What do you remember of VE Day? Of VJ Day? Not a lot – it was a holiday of course, the bells rang, the streetlights came on (great cheering) and the papers were full of photographs of Churchill, the royal family and the heads of the armed services and masses of others. I know there were street parties and dancing, but the euphoria wore off after a couple of weeks. VJ was celebrated too, but a little bit less so.
What about the nuclear bomb? Everyone was stunned; it was so hard to believe. After a while people accepted the facts and that it had saved countless lives and years of war. Maybe such a weapon would bring wars to an end? Fat chance – it seemed no time till it broke out in Korea and the rest is history.
It’s been a bit of a weird few days, so the menu I’d hoped to follow this week hasn’t quite worked out as planned. But I stuck to my rations and made sausage meatballs with mashed potatoes for dinner. I made them with breadcrumbs, onions and carrots, in the slow cooker, but next time I will add a few more spices and maybe some minced onion to the meat.
This is the second to last day of my month of wartime rations. I’m going to leave the last word to Anne tomorrow, but here are a few of my thoughts on the experience.
I’m very aware I’ve just been ‘playing’ at this. I haven’t had to worry about not being able to buy groceries or having to start a fire before I can boil the kettle for a cup of tea.
Here in Calgary we’re experiencing a cold snap, but all I have to do is turn up the thermostat. I can’t imagine what it must have been like during wartime, particularly with fuel shortages, getting up on a cold morning and having to light a fire before doing anything else.
My grand-daughter, who is still in nappies, is coming round tomorrow. Changing them is a breeze because they’re disposable. Pity my poor mother who lived in an attic flat with no running water and had to haul cold water all the way up the stairs to wash her baby’s clothes.
Apart from the first couple of days, as my body adjusted from the extravagance of Christmas to wartime rations, I haven’t felt hungry on this eating plan at all. (And I’ve lost 7 lbs to boot.) The food has been good and nutritious and I’ve rediscovered a few veggies I’d turned my back on after leaving home as a teenager.
And some of the things my Mum – and other women of her generation – used to do now make sense. She didn’t waste a thing. If bread went stale, it was toasted. And it wasn’t just bread. String tied around parcels was unpicked, rolled up and saved for a later time. The same with jam jars which she used for her homemade jam and lemon curd in the summer.
One of my friends could never understand why her mother, even after she emigrated to Canada, kept a cupboard filled with dried and tinned foods – just in case. For the women who lived through the war and had to provide nutritious foods to keep their families fed and healthy on limited rations, it must have been a constant worry. No wonder they always made sure they wouldn’t be caught short again.
So the big lessons I’ve taken away from this experience? That we waste so much food nowadays. That we spend so much money on processed foods while ignoring the simple fresh foods that are so much better for us than anything that contains a chemical on its list ingredients. How cheap the weekly shopping bill becomes when you purchase fruit and vegetables in season.
That I’m very lucky to live where I live, when I live.
Toad-in-the-Hole tonight using one of my precious eggs for the batter. My Mum made the best Toad-in-the-Hole in the world, but sadly I don’t seem to have her knack. I followed the recipe precisely, used a hot oven and had the fat smoking before I added the batter, but although it tasted fine, it didn’t rise all light and fluffy the way my Mum’s used to. Ah well…I’ll blame it on cooking at altitude – Calgary is 3,400 feet above sea level.
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Anne shared a few of her thoughts about my experiment versus what it was really like to live under rationing.
How did you feel about rationing? Often quite hungry. I’ve written more at length already (in an earlier blog) about school meals that were often just a pile of mash and a small piece of cheddar of slice of corned beef, with maybe a milk pud to follow. From your blog, I think, you are doing rather better although my memory of points is that we got 20 a month. Potatoes and bread were there to satisfy hunger, but dull fare when there was nothing to spread on them! Later, when I was working for the Daily Record I had the benefit of their canteen for a cooked supper – not brilliant, but food.
I’ve been very fortunate in that I haven’t had any ‘shortages’ during my experiment. Yes, you have – we usually got eggs around Easter time but hardly any for the rest of the year, and then usually on ‘Blue Books only’ – children. Supplies of fresh stuff were still tied very much to the farming year.
Dinner tonight – bacon turnovers with beetroot and roasted brussels sprouts – was delicious and so satisfying I could only manage one course. The pastry was simple – flour, fat and water – and the filling easy – fried bacon, leeks and mashed potato. Roll the pastry into a circle, put the filling in the centre, fold the pastry over, seal the edges, then put in a hot oven for 30 minutes along with the sprouts which were roasted in the left over bacon fat. This would be a great – and incredibly cheap – recipe for leftovers of any kind.
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On to more of Anne’s memories of being a child evacuee during the war.
Were there many evacuees in Kippen? The ‘under -11s’ from Hyndland School were all there or in other villages around Balfron. I was lucky and made two ‘best friends’ – one a village girl, and the other from Hyndland.
How often did you go back to Glasgow? I don’t remember clearly, but I think not often, especially not at the start or until more raids seemed unlikely. It was more a case of Glasgow family coming to see us than our going there. John (Anne’s brother) came during his leaves and he and I explored the countryside around – memories which are precious to me.
How long did the journey take to Glasgow?Did you travel by bus or train? By bus, which we picked up at St George’s Cross at the east end of Great Western Road. It took a little over two hours as far as I remember, winding through village pick-up stops – like a puppy-dog and lamp-posts. In winter it was a dreary run because of the dark, and the dim blue lights were to dim to read by.
Did you remain in Kippen over the summer? Oh yes, it was an unbroken stay, except for the occasional trip to Glasgow. Towards the end my Kippen best friend came to Byres Road with me for a week.
Many thanks to my writing friend Mahrie G. Reid for offering her perspective on Wartime Rationing from a Canadian point of view. Mahrie’s first mystery novel is scheduled for release this spring. If you would like to check out her website for more information, please click HERE.
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Thanks to Diana for inviting me to participate in her War Rations experiment. I was born in 1949 and many of the meals my mother served in my early years originated during the war rationing era.
My mother, Mary Grace Ross, was born 101 years ago this month. The changes she saw in the world were astronomical. She lived 90 years and 10 months and had her life changed dramatically by two world wars. During WW ll her five brothers served overseas and Mom, who lived along the east coast, was a plane spotter, trained to identify every plane flying during that time and in particular enemy planes.
Although sugar, tea, butter and meat were rationed, Canadians ate more and better than during the depression and the healthy eating guidelines used during the war are the foundation for the current Canada’s Food Guidelines.
Canadians were encouraged to eat “patriotic” food, and apples and lobster were the first foods labelled as patriotic. Home canning was also encouraged and the process reached an all time high during the war years.
“Magazines such as Canadian Home Journal repeated such messages by publishing articles with titles like “It’s Patriotic and Pleasant to Eat Canadian Lobster” and which included recipes for patriotic dishes like Lobster Cocktail, Lobster à la King, and Lobster Sandwiches.” (Catherine Caldwell Bayley, “It’s Patriotic and Pleasant to Eat Canadian Lobster,” Canadian Home Journal 37/3 (July 1940), 28-29 and Canadian Home Journal 36/8 (December 1939), 1.)
The cheaper ground meat came into its own during the late forties. An episode of the Canadian TV show, Bomb Girls, realistically featured instructions on turning ground meat into a meal as tasty as steak. In Nova Scotia, fish was also a staple. Even after the war, these two items remained on the menu in our household.
The meals I chose for my War Ration Day were Fish Soup (no milk so not chowder) and a no-crust version of meat pie topped with “icing” made of mashed potatoes. Both include potatoes, carrots and onions as well as a small amount of butter, salt and pepper. I added dried dill from a home garden to the cod-fish soup and served the meat pie with previously home-pickled beets.
An Apple Betty for dessert rounded out both meals. Made with apples and cinnamon topped with oatmeal mixed with one tablespoon of brown sugar and some water, this tasty dish met the December 1939, Department of Agriculture instructions to: “Serve apples daily and you serve your country too.”
My dad was one of 340,000 soldiers evacuated from the beaches of Dunkirk in May 1940 following the German invasion of Belgium, Holland and France. Dad died when I was in my early twenties. He never really talked about his experiences, but in 2009 I visited France with my friend Anna. Not only did we walk the full length of the beach from De Panne in Belgium to Dunkirk in France in his memory, but we also had the honour of meeting a real Dunkirk veteran and talking to him about his time on the beach 69 years earlier.
Diana Cranstoun 