The Courier & Advertiser (Fife Edition)
THE NATIONS JOY: ARMISTICE 1918
Britain celebrated... but with a reflection for the many lost, writes Dr Derek Patrick, University of St Andrews
The Armistice was not unexpected. There was general awareness that the German government had sued for peace and, on November 10, a large crowd – “strung to a high pitch of excitement” – gathered outside The Courier offices in Dundee, eagerly anticipating news Germany had signed the agreement that would bring an end to hostilities on all fronts.
However, it was not until 10.30am the next morning that the announcement “Armistice Signed: Official”, was posted in the windows of The Courier building. Shortly before, the naval flotilla anchored in the Tay had received a wireless communication confirming the news, ships’ sirens notifying the citizens of Dundee that the terms of the Armistice had been agreed. The news occasioned enthusiastic celebrations across the city.
The Courier correspondent, commenting on the “stirring scenes”, reported that: “After the breakfast hour there was practically no work done in Dundee. Little need to declare a public holiday; the public made a holiday for themselves, and the population seemed to betake itself to the centre of the city, marching in cheering throngs, waving and wearing flags, and inspired by a wonderful variety of impromptu ‘bands’... Any other traffic than the victory demonstration could scarcely be conducted, and the tramway service had perforce to fall in and submit to complete suspension for the rest of the day.”
Dundee’s Lord Provost, Sir William Don, addressed the large crowd from a platform erected outside the Town House.
Reflecting on the momentous occasion he observed that: “For four years the Great War had gone on, but now we were able to say that peace has been declared. It was peace with victory... Ever since the war began we believed that we were fighting for the triumph of righteousness and truth, and, although it had been long in coming, we had got the victory we deserved.”
The citizens responded with a “fervent” rendition of the national anthem and three cheers for “Haig and the boys at the front”. The celebrations continued well into the evening with “no slacking off in the public exuberance”.
Similar scenes were recorded across the country. In Edinburgh, news of the Armistice was received “joyously, and thankfully, but in the main quietly”, but as the day progressed, “the streets assumed an air of festivity”.
Groups of women workers, free from the munitions factories, made their way through the streets, singing, and waving flags, which “seemed to blossom forth in every direction”.
Several biplanes appeared in the skies above the capital performing a series of aerobatics, while a small company of sailors scaled the Wellington statue outside General Register House, “and by arranging flags on his person, forced the hero of Waterloo to participate in the celebrations”. In the evening, Princes Street was described as “a broad channel along which, from one side to the other, flowed a broad stream of humanity”.
Despite the best efforts of municipal workmen, the streetlamps were still partially obscured by paint – a result of lighting restrictions stipulated by the Defence of the Realm Act (DORA) – but searchlights played across the clouds, illuminating the crowd and Scott Monument. Despite the enthusiastic celebrations, it was reported that, with public houses closing early in the evening – another prerequisite of DORA – “cases of intoxication were rare”.
All over Scotland, shops were closed and the almost a complete stoppage of work swelled crowds to unprecedented levels. The miners’ celebration of the Armistice led to a serious loss in coal output, prompting the Coal Controller to issue a statement in late November appealing to miners to make good the loss.
“In the sunshine of a peaceful day typical of the ‘Indian summer’, every town and village throughout the country joined in the expressions of joy and thanksgiving.”
However, the nation’s impromptu elebrations were mitigated by its ppreciation of the cost of war, and thoughts of those who will not return giving) an element of restraint to he jubilations”. In Edinburgh, one bserver remarked on a young widow, ressed entirely in black, “a hint of ragedy amidst the rejoicings”. Waving er handkerchief in recognition of he crowds of cheering soldiers, she epresented the innumerable Scottish amilies who had lost one or more oved ones.
In Dundee, Bailie Buist stressed hat in the midst of “our joy we emembered those who would never ome back”. In response, Lord Provost on reflected on Dundee’s remarkable ontribution to the war effort, adding hat something would have to be done n the city “by way of raising a lasting nd enduring memorial on behalf of he brave men who had fallen”. In recognition, Buist proposed a oast: “The Boys of the Black Watch.” ven illustrator William McMann’s toic local heroine, “Kirsty at the ooncil”, was in reflective mood. ell-established as a popular weekly eature in the Evening Telegraph and Post, Kirsty’s essentially local commentary had been adapted to deal with the war and other matters.
The feature saw Kirsty adopt an overtly patriotic stance that by November 1918 had McMann’s character in uniform as a proud member of the Women’s Auxiliary Army Corps (WAAC). Even so, his work could be much more than simple propaganda. On November 11 1918, Kirsty was placed at the centre of Dundee’s celebrations, and McMann’s short verses reveal the unbridled joy felt by citizens at the news of the successful conclusion of the armistice and “victory”:
Peace was declared! I heard the cheers
Aringing doon the street; I heard a band abune the noise O’ countless hurryin’ feet. The hale toon was on holiday, The guid folk o’ Dundee Were oot en masse tae celebrate Oor glorious victory. An’ syne the Provost made a speech,
An’ telegrams were sent Tae Marshal Foch an’ General Haig; An’ syne afore I kent I found mysel’ upon my feet
An’ wavin’ in the air My Union Jack, “Three cheers,” I cried, “For a’ the Boys oot there!” I felt a neebour pu’ my coat, But I was no’ near done, “Three cheers for Dundee’s kilted lads,
The boys wha’ve fought an’ won!” The cheers that followed gey near swept
The roof frae aff the Ha’, An’ waivin’ high abune my heid My flag, I slipt awa’!
However, it is his final section that helps capture the dichotomy of happiness and sorrow experienced by almost every Scotsman and woman on receipt of the welcome news that the Great War was over.
It also helps explain why Remembrance, inexorably linked with the annual commemoration of Armistice and the red Flanders poppy, is still an integral part of our national character. Poignant sentiments expressed in November 1918 are, for so many, similarly relevant today. At hame that nicht I minded o’ Those fallen in the fray; Thousands rejoicing, thousands more
Are sorrowing to-day. To those who listen for a voice They never more shall hear, There’s agony in every shout, A stab in every cheer.
As we approach the 100th anniversary of the Armistice, it is the unspoken hope that our world will never suffer war on this scale ever again. However, it is a stark fact of modern life that there are countless conflicts taking place across the globe, many of which involving our brave servicemen and servicewomen.
Poppyscotland came into being in 1921 (then known as the Earl Haig Fund) with a commitment to providing life-changing support to the armed forces community.
That need has not diminished and the charity raises millions of pounds each year in order to support veterans throughout the country. In 1918, despite the hysteria, millions were left behind in the aftermath of the Great War, but it is Poppyscotland’s ongoing quest to ensure that all of our brave servicemen and servicewomen do not suffer the same fate 100 years on.