VE Day 80: We Were There (BBC 2)
Remembering the end of World War II, after almost losing hope he would ever see England again, 99-year-old Ken Hay was surprised by his own tears.
He was just 18 when, after landing as part of the D-Day invasion of Normandy in 1944, he was captured and sent to Poland to be a prisoner of war in the Nazi coal mines.
Ken’s vivid memories threw a shockingly different light onto our usual pictures of how the Allies celebrated the dawn of peace, in VE Day 80: We Were There.
Rescued by American GIs, Ken and his fellow POWs were taken to a U.S. camp, where they had their first shower in months. Their filthy, lice-ridden clothes were burned on a bonfire, before the quartermaster issued them with new uniforms.
‘It’s an American camp, so we dressed as Yanks,’ he chuckled. ‘Light gabardine trousers, brown boots, socks, collar and tie, jacket, doughboy’s hat. And we thought, boy, when we get back, are we going to pull the birds!’
But his memories of the flight home brought a lump to his throat. The pilot passed back notes to let his passengers know where they were. The first said, ‘French coast ahead,’ the second read, ‘Over the Channel.’
His voice choking up, Ken added, ‘The third piece of paper just said, “England”.’
Meticulous and sensitive editing of reminiscences from a score of people who lived through the war made this documentary both fascinating and deeply moving
Some of the memories were heartwarming, others heartbreaking
‘Nothing can be taken for granted,’ said Marie Scott, who served with the Wrens
Meticulous and sensitive editing of reminiscences from a score of people who lived through the war made this documentary both fascinating and deeply moving. All of the contributors were well over 90 and several were centenarians, though many looked 20 years younger.
The show also featured well-chosen archive footage, with narration by presenter Rachel Burden helping to give context to the stories. In places, the edit cut from one hair-raising anecdote to another, and back to the first, without ever losing the thread. It was a masterly lesson in how to bring multiple accounts together, to compile a broad picture.
Some of the memories were heartwarming, others heartbreaking. Ralph Ottey, who served with Bomber Command, recalled how he arrived from Jamaica aged 19, eager to serve his mother country: ‘As for things like colour prejudice, no way. The officers, they just won’t tolerate it. We were treated as members of the British Armed Forces and that was it.’
Kitty Baxter was 13 when a letter from the War Office brought news that her father, Bill, a road sweeper who volunteered for the Army, had been killed.
She remembered standing at her bedroom window on VE Day, watching as people rejoiced in the street outside. ‘My mother said, “You’re not going out there. You’ve got nothing to celebrate. Your Dad’s not coming back.’
‘Nothing can be taken for granted,’ said Marie Scott, who served with the Wrens. ‘There’s always some lunatic around who wants power or a piece of territory, and is prepared to stop at nothing to get it.
‘We have to be aware that our peace was hard fought for and should be cherished.’ Amen to that.
