I don’t think that most people can appreciate just how hard it is to write a good social history. Social history is, by its very definition, abstract. The views of an entire people are bound to be so varied as to defy easy generalizations. So how to take a vague feeling of oneness and shared values (as good a definition of civilization as any) and provide structure to it? And how do you do so in a way that keeps the reader’s interest without just listing off statistics and facts?
The way that this book manages it is by adopting a rough chronological order. The first chapter is about British reactions to the start of the war and the final chapter is their reaction to the end of the war. So much is obvious, though both manage to include enough variety of viewpoints to give a more nuanced impression than mere anxious fatalism or a strangely unsatisfied sense of closure. But how to fit in other, more thematic topics? To whit, the book has a chapter each on the evacuation of children, blackout regulations, army recruitment and militarization, conscientious objectors, information censorship, rationing, invasion anxiety, the internment of all foreigners, the internment of British fascists, bomb shelters and the Underground, Ireland during the war, war artists and the artistic community, essential industries and female recruitment, Americans and other foreign soldiers on British soil, planning for peace, and criminal activities. How do you make those fit into an apparent progression that feels like it is advancing forward in the war?
With great difficulty, although you’d never imagine it from the skill with which the book manages it. Issues appear mainly in the order in which they occur or are most common. Evacuation, blackout regulations, rationing, etc. are all covered first because they are the immediate consequences of war in 1939/40. While most of these chapters cover events into the later years of the war, the main focus is on the Phony War years. Then we move onto Dunkirk and the public reaction, which sets in motion the internments and invasion anxiety. A chapter on the Battle of Britain, two on the Blitz (1940 and 1941), the D-Day invasion, and the V-1s/V-2s, all serve to advance the timeline and make the book feel like there is a sense of progression. And the appearance of foreign troops on English soil appears when the Americans join up in ‘41. It all seems so natural and logical you can’t see the immense struggles that must have been required to force this material into such clear patterns.
The most impressive part is how we are given updates on these early chapters throughout the course of the book without it feeling out of place. The evacuees, for example, pop up all the time in the context of the Blitz and other subjects. We are told how, after the initial return home as the Phony War made evacuation seem an overreaction, the Blitz encouraged a new and better-planned round of evacuations. But since we’ve already gotten a chapter establishing the background for this we don’t need to lay out all the details that would usually be necessary. Rationing is similar and the endless references to bombs and bomb shelters progress in a similarly chronological pattern. But this doesn’t seem like an interruption so much as a natural progression of the story.
Many of the later chapters seem consumed by ephemera and updates, with the chapters on planning for peace and the V-1s/V-2s serving particularly well as a commentary on the declining morale and sense of being “browned off” that the populace was feeling. By the end of the book this sense of exhaustion is palpable and you have to wonder how the British public would have handled another year of war. Actually, I’d be rather curious to see a German version of this book because I really wonder how they dealt with the endless bloodletting and monotony. Were they as drained as the British were? Or did the new and sudden threat to their fatherland give them a powerful impetus to continue? I’d be interested to find out.
One of the highlights of the book is the astonishingly broad array of anecdotes taken from people from all walks of life and in all sorts of careers. I don’t know how the author managed to read all of these, but they add immeasurably to the feeling of ‘being there’. Some of these are famous people such as Vera Brittain or George Orwell. Others are mine workers or poor inner-city evacuees. Each chapter is filled with these anecdotes. I suspect they limit the book’s value as a source for those writing about WW2 (bring on the technical charts and vital statistics!) but there is no better way of capturing the feel of the Homefront. The immense and all-encompassing nature of the struggle is felt everywhere and by everyone, from the unfortunates living on the line between Dover and London where German bombers dropped unused bombs to the isolated inhabitants of the Orkneys who had to deal with an influx of POWs (especially the Italians) and the navy yards.
I cannot recommend this book strongly enough for anyone with an interest in WW2. Most books on that subject aim for flashier stories of the frontlines or the heart of Nazi Germany. But this book tells an amazing story of endurance, against all odds and despite an immense reluctance, which allowed Britain to continue the war long enough to provide the Allies a site from which to launch the invasion of Europe. The book is a monument of superb organization that succeeds so well it feels like the only natural way to cover the material. Just how difficult it must have been to avoid mentioning elements covered in later chapters, especially ubiquitous ones like rationing or exhaustion, astounds me. An excellent introduction to the British Homefront in WW2.