The Blackout and the Dark of Night

A bomber’s moon

To make it difficult for the German Luftwaffe (air force) to locate built up areas, the British government imposed a complete blackout during the years of WWII. The occupants of all buildings had to ensure they did not leak light that would give clues to German pilots that they were flying over inhabited areas. Even the flare of a lit match or the glow of a cigarette could be spotted from above.

Black out curtains and boards to stop broken glass flying into the room

Thick black curtains or blackout paint were used to keep windows dark at night. Shopkeepers, hoteliers, restaurant owners and publicans had to black out their windows and provide a means for customers to leave and enter their premises without letting light escape—they risked a formidable fine and even the loss of their license if they were not in compliance.

“Oh Good heavens. I simply didn’t see you there!”

Britain’s streets were not lit at night and motor vehicle headlights, bicycle lamps and flashlights were fitted with blinkers so that their light was cast downward.

The Air Raid Precautions (ARP) was run entirely with the aid of civilian volunteers. Their primary task was to protect civilians from the very possible danger of air raids.

It is important to take your job seriously.

As the war  years dragged on, there were some areas that saw little or no bombing raids, and local air raid wardens took on the distinctly irritating presence that we often feel toward traffic wardens today when they give us a parking ticket.

My mother’s family lived in rural Buckinghamshire, surrounded by the dark  acres of her father’s farm. Their local air raid warden was an officious woman who biked around the village issuing warnings and writing tickets for the slightest offence.

The center of streets, the curbstones and large animals were painted with luminous paint.

One night there was a tremendous crash outside of their house. The family discovered the ARP warden, Mrs. Crombie, lying tangled up in her bike at the bottom of a ditch. She had run into a large and very frightened cow that had wandered into the lane at the bottom of their drive. My grandfather helped Mrs. Crombie to her feet; my uncle fixed her puncture and my grandmother made her a cup of tea, as Mrs. Crombie wrote them a ticket for endangering the roadways of Buckinghamshire with an ‘unmarked’ cow.

Londoners sleeping in the underground during an air raid

ARP wardens patrolled the streets during the blackout to make sure that no light was visible. They also helped firemen and ambulance workers search for people buried in the rubble of bombed buildings; reported on the extent of bomb damage to their local authority and issued gas masks and pre-fabricated air-raid ‘Anderson’ shelters from their command post.

When the air raid warning siren sounded ARP wardens were responsible for helping civilians to the nearest shelter—the London the Underground was often the nearest and safest place to spend the night during the Blitz. During the war years there were 1.4 million Air Raid Precautions warden volunteers working part-time in Britain.

The fictional village of Little Buffenden is home not only to Poppy Redfern and her grandparents, but the American Army Air Force in their new airfield built for them on Poppy’s grandfather’s farm Reaches.

American Eighty Army Air Force

When America ‘joined the war’ after the Japanese raid on Pearl Harbor in December, 1941 the British War Office requisitioned land to build airfields for their new allies. In Little Buffenden what was known as the Friendly Invasion was greeted with mixed reviews.

In reality East Anglia was where most of the American bases were built and the arrival of the Yanks was greeted with enthusiasm. A population of women struggling with making do was treated to popcorn, hot dogs, the jitterbug and of course lipstick and nylons.

American Army Air Force Bases in WW2

My mother was a middle-school girl when war broke out, and and eighteen when it ended. There were no Americans in her life: her father’s farm was close to Bletchley Park which is where she met my father.

The War Office did requisition some of her father’s land–two fields to be exact, and the British Army was bivouacked there off and on throughout the war. Rows of tents and a couple of Nissen huts housed about two-hundred and fifty soldiers at a time.

British Army Training Camp WW2

My grandfather was a sociable man and enjoyed chatting to the young men, but throughout the war years he had one pet peeve: the soldiers would squeeze through the thick hedge that separated their camp from his orchard when the apples were ripe and help themselves.

Soldiers Picking Apples

“What’s a few apples when those boys might never come back?” I can hear my grandmother saying. But to my granddad it was the principal of the thing. Scrumping as it is called in England is just a kind name for stealing.

His solution was a simple one. He moved his large and very aggressive gander, Bill, into the orchard. I seem to remember that Bill was an impressive goose: large, robust with a five foot wing span, and a nasty temper.

He ate a few windfalls, browsed on rich grass and seed heads and kept a baleful eye out for the first scrumper to squeeze through his hedge. Sometimes my grandfather would lean over the orchard gate with his pipe and keep Bill company as they waited together.

A Terrifying Gander on the Attack

A gander is a territorial creature. Give him exclusive domain over any area and he will make it his with a vengeance. The sight of Bill racing along the grass, his powerful beak wide open to show its serrated edges and his wings spread wide was a terrifying sight–and the sound of his hiss was louder and more intimidating than a King Cobra.

After the last soldier had raced across the orchard with Bill’s beak pecking at his bum granddad would wipe tears of laughter out of his eyes and tell the kids to gather a basket-full of apples and take them over to the commanding officer of the camp next door.