Millions Like Us: Women's Lives in the Second World War
Virginia Nicholson
Language: English
Pages: 503
ISBN: B004ZWU7BQ
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
In 1942 Cora Johnston is grieving over the death of her young husband, torpedoed in the Atlantic; Aileen Morris is intercepting Luftwaffe communications during the siege of Malta - and Clara Milburn, whose son was captured after Dunkirk, is waiting, and waiting ...
We tend to see the Second World War as a man's war, featuring Spitfire crews and brave deeds on the Normandy beaches. But in conditions of "Total War" millions of women - in the Services and on the Home Front - demonstrated that they were cleverer, more broad-minded and altogether more complex than anyone had ever guessed.
In Millions Like Us Virginia Nicholson tells the story of the women's war, through a host of individual women's experiences. She tells how they loved, suffered, laughed, grieved and dared; how they re-made their world in peacetime. And how they would never be the same again ...
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Relationship. A good-looking redhead, with confidence bordering on arrogance, Stephen was another young man who had paid court to her at the bank, before disappearing – like Don – for overseas RAF training. That autumn he returned and quickly homed in on Phyllis. His glamour, domineering manner and well-travelled sophistication rendered her helpless, and she soon persuaded herself that it would be unkind not to ‘help him enjoy his leave’. This didn’t mean sleeping with him: ‘Stephen was willing.
Adjustment harder than their home-based sisters. Going back into the workaday civilian world felt both unsettling and banal. Flo Mahony was demobilised in 1946; she was twenty-four and decided to return to her job in the offices of the Wandsworth Gas Company, where she’d worked before the war. It was mortifying: In the air force you’d been a part of Something; you felt you were Somebody. And then there you were – just a clerk going to the office – back in a slot. That was quite difficult to.
Hotel-keeping; with laundry services erratic, she ironed the sheets as they were, on the bed. The hotel offered an austerity breakfast: burned toast and dyed pink fishcakes which nobody would eat. But Joan was happy. She was working, and she was with people. Sadly, it all came to an abrupt end when bailiffs appeared on the doorstep and announced that they had come to take away the furniture. Nothing Joan could say would dissuade them, and, fearing that she would be blamed by her employers, she.
Have always filled the minds of their sex: home and husband, boyfriends, family, work, exams, money, social life. If contemporary newspapers and magazines are anything to go on, shopping, childcare, the talkies, wireless programmes, Agatha Christie, knitting patterns, beauty and recipes preoccupied the waking hours of many of them. They revered the royal family. Despite the rise of socialism and industrial unrest, their media were as obsessed with the ruling classes as ours are with celebrities,.
A life-long champion of ‘ladylike’ values, worried a great deal about the way the ATS appeared to be systematically eradicating femininity. The training programme seemed geared to stripping out all that was ‘soft, feminine and illogical’ from its impressionable young recruits. ‘There were some appalling results of intensive training and suppressed femininity,’ she wrote, and reported instances of ATS officers who were indistinguishable in appearance from men. Underlying the prejudice against.