VE Day 80th anniversary: Memories of VE Day from those who experienced it 80 years on
This week, the country will come together to celebrate the 80th anniversary of VE Day.
As the decades pass, sadly there are fewer and fewer people to tell firsthand stories of what it was like on the day that victory was finally declared in Europe, on May 8, 1945.
The Advertiser has tracked down some of those who grew up during the darkest days of the second world war and spoke to them about their memories of that momentous moment in our nation’s history.
Jim Bishton, of Farndon, was just 9-years-old in 1945 and lived in East London near a dock which was a target of regularly bombing.
He remembers making the most of things during the war, collecting shrapnel while playing with his friends, competing to find the biggest piece and often found shrapnel which was still warm.
In one funny incident, Jim locked his family out of the air raid shelter by mistake, as he would always been taught to lock the door.
On VE Day, he said there was an enormous sense of relief for him and his family and recalled the sense of community that day. His street also used rubbish to create a bonfire, which burned so hot that it melted the tarmac.
“VE Day brings back so many memories — the joy, the relief and the tears,” said Jim.
“We danced in the streets knowing the world would never be the same again.
“It’s a day to remember the sacrifices and to be grateful for the peace we have now.”
Now aged 104, Margaret John, was a young woman when war broke out and was called up the Women's Auxiliary Air Force in 1941.
She was stationed near Barry in her native Wales, and worked as a typist on base.
On VE Day she said the excitement spread very quickly.
“It was absolutely wonderful,” said Margaret.
“We joined all the people on the streets of Barry. We weren’t quite sure what we were doing, but we made a lot of noise.”
This image of town centres bustling with people celebrating together, was a familiar one for Ann Griffiths.
Ann grew up in the centre of Wolverhampton, when it was merely a town on the outskirts of of Birmingham, and recalls looking out of an upstairs window and seeing the crowds below.
“It was a terribly exciting time,” she said.
“Because of the blackouts the nights were so dark, you couldn’t even drive with lights on.
“So, standing on a chair to stare out of our window onto the street, and seeing all of the shop fronts lit up and the street lights on, it felt like I was in fairy land.
“I was only seven, but I walked down into the town centre with my older sisters.
“There were so many people, the crowds filled Queen Square, there were even people climbing up onto the monument of Prince Albert.
“You could tell something important was happening because we were all talking to one another — we were all extremely happy and stayed late into the night.”
Others weren’t so lucky with the festivities.
Alan Holmes was a 10-year-old boy in boarding school at the time and missed out on the school’s VE Day celebrations as he had fallen in and was in the hospital.
To add insult to injury, when the war finally ended a few months later in August 1945, following the surrender of Japan, Alan was in the hospital yet again and missed the VJ Day celebrations too.
However, his family didn’t miss out all together as his father was a businessman and was hard at work providing food for all of the street parties which were popping up.
For Dennis Bailey, who grew up in Grove Street, Balderton, the celebrations were short lived.
“We had a great big street party,” he said
“People brought tables out into the streets, we had cakes and lemonade, the whole family was helping out.
“But I’d just turned 18 and three days later I was called into the army!
“I was a welder and should have been in a reserved occupation, so I wasn’t very happy at all.”
Nicole Gay had a slightly different perspective from most others, as she was born and raised in Paris while under Nazi occupation.
“It was a very difficult time [during the war], nobody went out, a lot of the time we were in darkness,” she said.
“When the war ended I was seven, I remember all of the Americans in their tanks rolling down the street — it felt like we had our freedom back.”
Despite the joy felt by so many that day, for some there was quite simple a feeling of relief, and for others the day holds heartbreaking memories.
Beryl Mason, now 94, grew up in Aspley, Nottingham, and said that VE Day was bittersweet for her family.
“We had the day off school and all of our neighbours were out on the street having a party,” she said. “But my mummy was upstairs crying because my daddy had been killed.
“My daddy wasn’t coming home, but other people’s daddys were. My uncle was still fighting in the east against the Japanese too, so we couldn’t really enjoy it.”
Beryl’s father, Frank Swift, served with the South Notts Hussars after volunteering in 1939.
He saw action in North Africa and fought in famous battles including the Siege of Tobruck, but was later taken as a POW and passed away in captivity in 1942. He is buried in Milan War Cemetery.
His medals were meant to be returned to his family but sadly were misplaced in transit, until this week when officers from Frank’s regiment presented them to Beryl at long last.
VE Day also holds difficult memories for Pat Woods, who was just 7-years-old at the time.
She said: “A lot of young people today don’t realise that we used to dig up our gardens to make bomb shelters, and we weren’t sure who would be in school the next day.
“On VE Day, we woke up to the very sad news that my mother had died.
“She had been very ill with turbuculosis in hospital — it really was a dreadful time.
“But we were lucky that my mother came from a large family, so we had people around us who took us in and did what they could to make it a happy day.
“We had a street party in the afternoon, and everyone came out of their houses. But it was still very hard. A lot of mixed emotions.”
For Elizabeth Briggs, whose family worked on a Leicestershire country estate, the news that the war was coming to an end was met with a sigh of relief rather than celebration.
Safe from the bombs, and working the land, the countryside provided a safe haven to for a young girl to grow up, but also meant she was far removed from the joyful crowded scenes found in cities and towns across the country on VE Day.
And despite many soldiers returning home, it would be another four and a half years before she saw her father again.
Early in the war he had made a miraculous escape as one of those evacuated from Dunkirk, and spent the years after mopping up resistance in North Africa and peacekeeping.
When war broke out, Margaret Mottishaw was 9-years-old and living in the rural community of Rolleston, but her family was not completely safe from the danger.
She said: “I was the youngest of 5 children and my older brother was in the RAF, my 2 older sisters and brother worked at Ransome and Marles at the time of the bombing.
“We lived on rabbit pie during the harvest, when the war was over there was a big party in the church.”
Cryil George Rhodes, 87, lived in Tuxford during the war and was in school alongside with evacuees from Yarmouth and London.
“I remember chatting to American airmen with my brother and asking them for a piece of chewing gum, we used to stand in the streets and wave to the service men when they drove past us in their trucks.
“When we war was over I remember my mum and dad going to Newark marketplace and dancing all day and night.”
This article was made possible thanks to the support and cooperation of Lancaster Grange Care Home, Bowbridge Court, and Southwell Court.
