In the lead up to the 75th anniversary of VE Day there have been calls for the British nation to invoke the spirit of the Blitz in its response to the Covid-19 crisis. Wartime rhetoric filters through from the UK press into our social media feeds, reminding us that we have triumphed over adversity before and will overcome again.
Those who vent their anger and frustration at the current situation are criticised for negativity and dissent. They are told not to wallow, but take it on the chin; display more of that great British stoicism that got us through two world wars, and put it online for everyone to see.
But, while we should revere and draw on the incredible strength of our ancestors, we should remember that we will all handle what is happening differently. We will each have our own perceptions, reactions and responses. We all have a right to respond in our own individual ways.
There are those who are proactive in a crisis, able to mobilise support and bolster community spirit. Then, there are others who have a need to be busy and find purpose, using extra time to learn new skills. Some seek solidarity in isolation, finding solace in the rainbows displayed from living room windows. Others, while joining the call to clap from the doorstep, refuse to be diverted from the horror of the situation and the scale of the tragedy.
When I was about 10-years-old Granny showed me the photograph from her deportation identification papers. In the picture, she held my baby uncle in one arm and a black board with their names written in white chalk in the other. I studied the way her lips were pressed together and tightly curled up at the edges. ‘Why are you smiling?’ I asked her. ‘I’m not smiling, my girl’, she replied. ‘I’m staring at that Jerry and I’m furious.’
She was entirely justified in her anger. Her most basic rights had been taken from her. She no longer held her destiny in her own hands. This was a bitter pill for someone as strong willed and determined as Granny. She would have been livid and I understand that now.
Over the past coupe of months, my grandparents have been at the forefront of my mind. Although it is impossible to compare what they went through during the Occupation with what we are experiencing now, I can certainly identify with feelings of uncertainty and loss of control.
My grandparents were interned for over three years and relegated to separate sleeping quarters. When they arrived at their baroque castle prison, they were confronted with filth and had only bricks and acorn coffee to clean with. They ate from Red Cross parcels and the few opportunities they had to venture outside the barbed wire fence were under escort.
We have been in lockdown for just six weeks. I can sleep in my own bed with my husband next to me. I can ‘meet’ my friends on Zoom for drinks every Friday night and I can follow the news on social media. A far cry from starving, I am able to buy chocolate at the supermarket. I can get in my car and go out for four hours each day, walking on the cliffs or skimming stones on the sea.
Yet, I am afraid. And I am angry.
I am worried about the impact social isolation is having upon my family. I am concerned about the economic effects and how this will impact upon my son’s future. I am frightened of this virus and do not feel safe when venturing out in public. And I am having difficulty perceiving a physically distant ‘new normal’.
The enemy in this ‘war’ is invisible. It has lulled us into a false sense of security and is waiting for the opportunity to regain lost territory. Ironically, my instinct is to run away; to pack up my family and take them to isolate on a small island somewhere. I am angry that we cannot remove ourselves from this situation. We have no choice but to face it.
I know I need to use my fear and anger, to dig deep into my genes and draw out some of the fire that burned so fiercely in my Granny’s belly to bring her through. I need to draw strength from knowing my grandparents endured much worse and lived to tell their tale.
But, I also know how important it is to give my feelings credence. They are valid and justified. If we will insist on using wartime terminology - those on the front line never picked this fight and neither did the innocent civilians caught in its crossfire.
This blog was originally published in the Jersey Evening Post on 9th May 2020.