The Herald - The Herald Magazine
THOSE WERE THE DAYS
FOR SIX YEARS THE SECOND WORLD WAR CAST A LONG SHADOW OVER THE FESTIVE SEASON. HERE KEN SMITH DIPS INTO THIS NEWSPAPER’S ARCHIVES TO LEARN HOW DEFIANCE OVERCAME DESPAIR
How Scotland celebrated December 25 during the Second World War
NEITHER the war nor Christmas featured on the front page of The Glasgow Herald in December, 1939. Folk who have come across old newspapers will know why – the style in those days was to have advertisements only on the front page. Perhaps it was a more comfortable way to ease oneself into the news by perusing the columns of births, deaths and marriages before preparing for the worst. In truth the war coverage was sparse. War had been declared on Germany that September, but then came what was called the Phoney War, as the feared attack didn’t materialise. Children who had been evacuated from Glasgow had begun to drift home. This newspaper even acknowledged some benefits. It reported in its last issue before Christmas that the closure of West End theatres in London had led to touring productions with stars such as John Gielgud, Rex Harrison and Edith Evans appearing in Glasgow in recent weeks. Pantomimes were omnipresent in the city’s theatres apart from the Empire, which had secured the Bertram Mills Circus as it had been driven from the road by war.
As The Glasgow Herald stated: “A merry Christmas is perhaps scarcely the right phrase this year. And yet, since we have been spared some of the worst things that seemed probable enough four months ago, since Hitler has taken to his policy of scuttle, since there are still cakes and ale – to say nothing of turkeys and plum pudding – in the land, a little merriment during this weekend may not be so badly out of place. A cheerful heart, then, for the first wartime Christmas in 20 years, and ‘let nothing you dismay’!”
Then as now, The Glasgow Herald was not published on Christmas Day, so it printed a general knowledge quiz “for the amusement of our readers” and asked: “Where in Scotland are New York, Moscow, Abyssinia, Inkerman, Corunna and Jemimaville?”* Also: “Give English equivalents of girr, speug, winterdykes, shilpit, horny gollach, jawbox.”**
As an aside, there was a report on the attack on the Graf Spee which eventually sought shelter at Montevideo, where it was scuttled. A British seaman, Captain Dove, was a prisoner on the Graf Spee, and when it arrived there a German officer came in and announced: “Gentlemen, for you the war is over.” And all this time I thought that was a cheap line invented for war movies.
A year later, Christmas was more grim. Britain had been bombed, bringing the war to the civilian population. There was no television of course, only radio, and at 2pm on Christmas Day the programme Christmas Under Fire was being broadcast, opening with the the bells of one of Britain’s bombed cathedrals, presumably to show that life still went on even after such dreadful events. The King would then broadcast his Christmas message at 3pm.
The Glasgow Herald in 1940 reported: “Owing to war needs no extra travel facilities have been granted by the railway companies for the Christmas season, and on that account, coupled with the disinclination of the public to travel far in black-out conditions, traffic at the Glasgow stations has been no more than normal in recent days.”
Bombs had been dropped “in a West of Scotland area last night” stated The Glasgow Herald on Christmas Eve, adding to the general gloom. It even tried to put a positive spin on a shortage of toys at Christmas by stating:
“At this season when parents, uncles and aunts are doing a round of the shops, and with anxious eyes and laggard purse are endeavouring to combine the usual purchases of Christmas toys with wartime economy, it is well to remember that one of the lessons learnt from experience of fashions in toys is the virtue of simplicity.
“At first parents and friends are inclined to shower elaborate things upon small children. The teddy bear must be of the ample proportions, the doll must outshine the Fairy Queen. But they find that the child is apt to spend more time with a battered rag doll, a twisted wheelless engine originally valued at sixpence, a bundle of old tram tickets. An elaborate toy it would appear puts a curb upon the child’s imagination, but the simple toy gives imagination unlimited scope.” A worthy effort but I wouldn’t suggest a bundle of tram tickets as a present these days.
Meanwhile the pantomimes continued with Ali Baba and the 40 Thieves at the Pavilion.
By Christmas, 1941, a weariness had set in among the civilian population. In a bleak message, The Glasgow Herald opined: “In spite of everything we dare to wish our readers A Happy Christmas. Many of us feel that carols these days are a mockery, and to sing of peace on earth and good will towards men is the irony of ironies. So long as we are aware of the irony, there is hope for us. The moment we cease to care, then is the world doomed. So again, a happy Christmas everyone, and hope for the future.”
Yes, the pantomimes were still on stage, and a reviewer commented: “On a more modest scale is Cinderella at the Royal. I went to it saying I couldn’t be bothered with pantomime this year, and found myself enjoying it thoroughly. As for the small child near-by he was hysterical most of the time. It is a simple show and doesn’t attempt to be clever on the grim business of the world. I don’t think Hitler’s name was once mentioned. For that relief alone, much thanks.”
Life, of course, went on. The Christmas Eve edition also reported that the owner of a shop in Barrhead was fined £1 for having rats on the premises. His lawyer explained that it was a fish and chip shop and that the Italian tenant had abandoned the premises hurriedly, leaving behind quantities of fat which the rats thrived on.
There were also concerns about corruption among Glasgow councillors in the granting of pub licences. “It is generally agreed that the change to judicial licensing would strike at a main breeding ground of the corruption with which Glasgow public life has become infected,” stated The Glasgow Herald.
Prices were rising, the cost of living had gone up by 30 per cent since the war began, and shop stewards at the Clyde shipyards were seeking the abolition of income tax on overtime working. Good luck with that one.
And the Lord Provost in his Christmas message did not forget allies Russia by commenting: “We have reason to be thankful that the city has been having such a peaceful time of late – a circumstance which we owe without doubt to the fight our Russian Allies have put up in resisting the German invasion of their country.”
By Christmas 1942 there were reports in this newspaper of vandalism in Glasgow with air raid shelters and equipment being smashed. Shelter doors were torn off and light fittings smashed or stolen. “Something of the lightheartedness of a college rag is brought into these activities,” we reported. “A large steel fire tank filled with water had the word ‘Danger’