Millions Like Us by Virginia Nicholson

This is an excellent book.  It took me a good long while to get through it but there is so much to be done outside this time of year so needs must.  But, each woman's story is gripping and Virginia Nicholson has done a superb job of collecting these vignettes and along with her own meticulous research of the era has produced a quintessential book of its kind.

I soaked up every word and detail about the daily life of women during World War II whether she be up to her elbows in diapers, farmer's fields, blood and guts or tea bags.  Against a backdrop of the current political and economic situations of this era are the thoughts and writings of a group of women who share their personal stories of striving for independence, meeting their first love, travel beyond their home county and all while the prospect of losing everything but the clothes on their back, as well as their lives, in the blink of an eye is a reality.  What I didn't expect was that once the final all-clear had been sounded and life went back to some semblance of what it was like before 1939, most of the women missed the excitement of it all.  Not the wondering if each day would be their last but the feeling of respect, pride and accomplishment that comes with position and purpose.

In the early days of World War II, some young women chose the service to join based on the cut of the uniform or even the hat.  Women appearing at airplane factories in baggy overalls were called all sorts of names by the men still employed there.  So prejudiced was the thinking that women should remain by the cooker that even the sight of Princess Elizabeth in her armed forces attire had people tsk tsking.  But once the bombs started to fall the allure of a sharp uniform quickly fell away leaving these young women to get on with the task at hand and to deal with situations that months before would have seemed impossible.  I will never forget the story of one women who knew German and was employed to listen to enemy airmen as they flew in air raids.  The German pilots knew they were being listened in on and would openly flirt over the air waves.  During one mission a familiar pilot was shot down but as his plane spiralled and burned he cried out for his mother before finally crashing.  Facing death while in the capacity of their job was difficult enough but then some of those women would wait on the tarmac until dawn for sight of their lover's plane, long overdue from a mission.  In too many cases the wait was in vain.

Reading Marghanita Laski's To Bed with Grand Music I thought that the adultery and amount of time focused on sex by the characters must have been exaggerated.  Let me tell you, after reading Millions Like Us...it was not!  Not only was there a massive explosion of sexual awakening amongst a group of young women who normally wouldn't have dreamt of being sexually active before marriage but adultery was also extremely common.  So common in fact that people were writing to their spouses about their love lives with their latest partners.  My girlfriend is pregnant or there will be an extra toddler at home when you arrive back were often paragraphs in letters sent home or to soldiers' bases.  One that did make me laugh though was a telegram sent to a husband who had been away for two years saying 'son born stop mother and baby doing well stop'.  Thinking his wife had been having an affair left the soldier feeling despondent but he soon found out his wife was sending word about his mother!

There are so many stories from this book that I could share but I need to get out and enjoy the day.  I know that summertime isn't typically when most people turn their bookish eye to non-fiction but believe me, this book will educate and entertain you with every page.  For those interested in literature from this era you will find quotes and anecdotes from such authors as Barbara Pym, Mollie Panter-Downes, Vera Brittain, Nella Last, Marguerite Patten, Nina Bawden and Helen Forrester.  Need I say more?

White Cliffs and Women During Wartime

A few days ago The Heiress took herself off for an adventure and sent me this photo of a small section of the iconic white cliffs of Dover.  There was an eerie moment when I opened the file as just two hours earlier I had been thinking of asking her to send me some pictures should she ever find herself going out that way.  My train of thought came from being completely engrossed in the book Millions Like Us by Virginia Nicholson.  This is a brilliant work of non-fiction from the World War II era and despite not even hitting the halfway mark yet I thought I would share a few anecdotes....

Lady Diana Cooper, married to Duff Cooper, would carry a bag stuffed with some of her diamonds, 200 GBP in cash, make-up essentials and passport to a cubicle in a subterranean Turkish bath.  Popping a sleeping pill she would spend the night and when the all-clear sounded in the morning she would head home.  Her staff would bring a breakfast tray to her room and she would enjoy The Times, have a nap and then it was off to The Ritz for drinks. 

The Henreys were living in Normandy with their infant son when the Germans crossed into France.  As they watched the coastline burning they knew escape was their only chance for survival.  Madeleine took a last look around the house, gathered a few things and with her husband, their baby and her mother they left for the British Consulate.  She had a British passport, her son had a British father but her mother was barred entry despite their pleas.  Can you just imagine how heartbreaking a scene it would have been for mother and daughter?  I was so relieved to find out that five years later they were reunited, thank goodness.

As Frances walked home, dressed in her first-aid uniform, after a heavy night of bombing, she passed the remains of a building.  A doctor, a nurse and some other wardens shouted for her assistance as they stood over a gaping hole leading down to the basement.  Frances were very tiny, just the right size to squeeze into an opening to administer aid to a man they could hear below crying out in agony.  The space was so tight she had to remove her dress to be lowered into the opening, head first.  The poor man's injuries were so horrific that she vomited repeatedly when she was pulled back up.  The doctor gave her a cloth soaked in chloroform and Frances was lowered once again to end the man's suffering.  It was euthanasia but the poor man welcomed it as he inhaled deeply from the cloth.

Mrs Milburn, like many other women, blew apart the culture of womanhood and began cursing as they never would have dreamed of before and using the word 'hate' with such passion.  I did have to laugh when she wrote that the vermin eating the vegetables in her garden were given names like Hilter, Goering and Himmler before being dispatched.  One woman working in an aircraft factory in Bristol broke three hammers as she worked on Spitfires, each blow she delivered was with Hitler in mind.

We have all read stories or watched films in which young lovers marry in the blink of an eye during wartime but I am still amazed by just how quickly some went about binding themselves in holy wedlock.  In some instances a call for duty after a couple of evenings out dancing with a young girl was enough to have a man down on one knee.  There were also loads of young women and girls sitting through a night of bombing in a tube station vowing to have sex at the first chance they got.  There was no way they were going to die virgins!  Less exciting perhaps, but hilarious, were the two friends who made a pact not to die in their curlers so with every air-raid siren they whipped off their headcover and unrolled their hair, no matter how tired.  Once the all-clear was sounded their curlers were put back in to place.

This is such an addictive read and I can't count how many times I have said to myself 'just one more page and then I'll get going'.

Books, Buck House and Buckets

Last weekend we were in Toronto and with a quick 'see you soon!' shouted over my shoulder at my husband I made straight for the 'H' section of BMV for another L P  Hartley title.  Poor Stella Gibbons has been sandwiched between one excellent read, The Hireling, and another, The Go-Between, reported to be even better.  While My American is lovely I really can't say it has me rushing home from work to pick up where I left off or flicking on my bedside lamp in the middle of the night to sneak a few pages in.  Who knows though, the ending may just have me eating my words.

I also wanted to stop in to Nicholas Hoare after receiving an email reporting the closure of two of his shops, one in Montreal and one in Ottawa.  The rents are rising by a ridiculous amount and I heaved a sigh of relief that one of my favourite bookshops in Toronto hasn't been affected, yet.  Too many times have I enjoyed all the glory of this fine establishment and then bought the titles that caught my eye on The Book Depository to save money (mind you, their prices are creeping upwards since Amazon's buyout).  I can't continue to have my cake and eat it too so I dished out for Millions Like Us by Virginia Nicholson, a book I've been coveting for quite some time.  A few weeks ago I pulled out my copy of Sisters at Arms about nurses during several conflicts and was so upset by the treatment and rape of these brave women at the hands of the Japanese that I had to set it aside.  Usually I wouldn't shy away from tales of horror but in that book it was unrelenting, hopefully Nicholson's book will have a lighter side at least some of the time.

Oh, and I had an email yesterday from The Heiress.  She was in London with a friend and the Duchess of Cornwall rode past in a car just outside the gates of Buckingham Palace.  And not one mention of what she was wearing, nor any description of a feathered hat or shiny brooch.  I will just have to use my imagination while giving the floors the wash they need so desperately and then there is the weeds to see to.  This exercise in procrastination has come to an end.  Happy Friday!