Archive for the ‘Victory in Europe Day’ Category

Festive Mood

Thursday, May 10th, 1945

Well, V-E-Day has come and gone; everyone is now recuperating, myself included!  What a hectic time nearly everyone had.  The official period for celebrating Victory-in-Europe was 48 hours starting at about noon on Tuesday, May 8th.

I didn’t really do much of anything, but it took all of Tuesday night and the early hours of Wednesday to do it!  Shall I tell you about some of it?  I’m going to anyhow.  Our original plans about going to the Victory Dance at the Red Cross didn’t work out—later in the evening we decided we would go to a dance hall out near one of the parks, but somehow we didn’t get around to it.

After posting on Tuesday afternoon, I finished up some work, got completely cleaned up, and took an Army bus to Belfast, arriving there just past six o’clock.  I had supper some place along in there too.  Well, Belfast was all decorated up like a Xmas tree.  I was actually surprised.  It is usually so dull-looking.  There were thousands and thousands of British flags (and a few American ones) hanging from all the homes and buildings.  I’ve never seen anything like it in the U.S., not even on the 4th of July.  Although there was bunting and such, the endless number of flags was the outstanding feature of decked-out Belfast on this Victory Day.  And the people!!!—they were all over the place.

My first problem was to find a bus to take me out to Jane’s place.  Yeah, just try to find one!  The transportation was a merry mix-up; the busses couldn’t get in to their usual stops in the city center because of the crowds, and there weren’t many running any way.  I did finally make it, though, even if it did take over an hour.

Jane welcomed me at the door and introduced me to what seemed like everyone in that part of the city: her mother, aunt and uncle, younger sister (who is Bonnie’s age), her best girlfriend, her sister’s best girlfriend, all the folks next door, etc. etc.  Her mother fixed me up with some tea and cake (naturally!) and then what does Jane do but drag me off to church.  She is a Presbyterian and I am just a Protestant, so there is no difficulty there.  We walked to the Fort William Park church.  I must say it had a very fine service, something on the order of good old Dr. Thompson’s services in Colfax.  I had the distinction of being the only American in the church, which fact was very interesting to some of the Irish.  The Yanks are more famous for their carousing around (wine, women, and song) than for their church-going.  Ha Ha !  On our way to the church, one of the neighbors said, “Put in a good word for me, will you?”.

At about ten o’clock, as it was getting dark, we lit the large bonfire on our block.  There were hundreds of these fires all over the city, some of them taking up most of the width of the street.  Old and young joined in the games and the dancing in the street; it was a wild party.  By midnight, we were ready to take off to see what was going on down in the city center.

Down town it was much as it had been that afternoon, only more so.  Lots of people!  The City Hall and Albert Memorial Clock were nicely lit up.  They weren’t the only ones!  On the whole though, it was a well-behaved crowd.  There seemed to be fewer drunks than usual, perhaps because the liquor supply had to be stretched further than usual.  Many of the stores had boarded up their display windows.  Everyone was in a festive mood—they were carried away by the joyousness of the occasion.  Any unescorted girls were caught and kissed time and again—they may have had a better time than those with fellers!  It is hard to explain exactly what was going on and why everyone was having fun, but they were—that was clear enough.  I know that I certainly enjoyed myself throughout the evening.  Jane said that if I didn’t, I gave a marvelous impersonation.  If you had seen me, you probably would have thought I had had something to drink.  But I didn’t—didn’t have a chance!  Ha Ha !

At a quarter to five I was back at the Red Cross, ready to go to bed.  There weren’t any!  Not even a soft chair, but I didn’t care.  I stretched out on six hard wooden chairs I found up where the dance had been held.  After an hour’s rest (?!?), I got up and had an early six o’clock breakfast of two fresh fried eggs and three pieces of toast.  By eight I was back in camp on my bunk, resting.  Some night, eh?  I got a bang out of it.  Out of the ordinary for me.

At noon I got up and had a nice dinner: roast beef, potatoes and gravy, asparagus, peas, tomatoes, bread and butter, lemonade, ice cream and cake.

I have told you only a fraction of what was cooking that night.  I hope you get a general idea at least of how I spent V-E-Day night!  But that wasn’t all.  Jane called up long-distance three times Wednesday to try to get in touch with me and have me come in again that night.  Our office was locked, so I didn’t get together with her.  It was just as well, for I was absolutely exhausted.  But I hear that the Wednesday night celebrations in Belfast were more riotous than on Tuesday, if that is possible.

[letterstohome copyright 2008]

Victory-in-Europe Day

Tuesday, May 8th, 1945

It’s here!  The day for which we have been working and fighting (some of us—not me) and waiting.  V-E-Day!  It is now a few minutes past twelve noon.  The war ended officially at noon.  The sirens have just now stopped blowing, and Bing Crosby recordings of the Star-Spangled Banner and God Bless America have come over the loudspeaker.  There is not as much excitement as might be expected, but there is no doubt that everyone is over-joyed because the war in Europe is now over—after five years and eight months.

I believe there would have been a greater sprit of celebration here if the peace proclamation had been more decisive and unexpected.  Actually, it has been very much strung out.  Rumors of complete unconditional surrender have been going the rounds for weeks.  Peace has been expected “hourly” for several days.  A few of the boys were getting fed up with this run-around.  The first definite news was at ten o’clock last night, when it was announced that Churchill would proclaim the end of the European war at 3:00 p.m. today.  (Of course, President Truman is supposed to make a similar statement in Washington, D.C. at the same time, but because of the difference in time, we wouldn’t hear that until about nine o’clock tonight.)  And then this morning came the news that V-E-Day would be declared at noon, 12:00 a.m., D.B.S.T (double British summer time, which is two hours of daylight saving).

Needless to say, I am very thankful that I have been allowed to “fight” in this war entirely from Northern Ireland.  And I know Mom and Dad are also.  What lies ahead of me I cannot even guess at this point, but we will take things as they come.

In a couple of more hours I will be off to Belfast, to join in the celebrating.  If a fellow were to make only one trip to the city all the time he was over here, this would be the night to go!  It’s going to be crowded as all hell and inconvenient in other ways, but this is the day; every man, woman, and child should get in the swing of things.  I suppose the restaurants will be cleaned out before I get there.  And many thirsts will go unquenched because of drinking material not enough, but what the heck.

I have a date with Jane for tonight, yes, indeed.  Although she doesn’t drink, she has been wondering how it is to get that “giddy feeling” and thought V-E-Day would be a swell time to find out.  I told her I might humor her to the extent of having one drink, but I’m not going to look very hard for a bar.  I know what Mom and Dad would think.  Oh, come now, folks, this is V-E-Day and I’m almost twenty-two!  Ha Ha !  Jane and I are going to a big Victory Dance at the Belfast Red Cross.  We’ll get out there on the floor and scuffle around! me, with my two left feet!  I’ll be walking all over her long gown! but I get by.  One can get away with murder in this modern dancing.  No one seems to give a damn how others dance, and that suits me fine!

Jane is especially happy to see the war end.  Their family (her father is not alive) has been living with her aunt since their home was bombed out in the big Belfast blitz of 1940-41.

Doris is the little blonde Irish girl who works? in our office.  I was very surprised to see her photo in last night’s Belfast Telegraph (newspaper).  Seems she has been entered in a Belfast beauty contest.  The picture, which was taken by an Army photographer, is deceptive.  I’ve never seen her as calm as that; besides, she is better looking than the picture indicates—especially her profile, all the way down!  Ha Ha !  Her face is okay, but it’s her figure that is her main asset.  As I have already said, this picture does not give an accurate impression of her.  She was a tomboy a few years ago and never quite got over it—still plays with the boys!  I got a million of ‘em, as Jimmy Durante would say!  Don’t get the idea that she isn’t a “nice” girl, because she is—too nice, some guys have said.  Anyway, she is a little hell-cat (in a nice, girlish way, naturally) and I pity the poor man who gets her.  She’d better get a move on if she’s going to land a Yank!

My typing is a mess, because I’m tying to hurry, but I think you will appreciate this V-E-Day letter.

[letterstohome copyright 2008]