Friday 8th May – VE Day 2020
For us it has been, for once, a day barely tinged with Coronavirus. Even
before my first cup of tea I am at the front of the house erecting a somewhat makeshift tripod of garden canes to display the three small Union Jack flags that I found in the loft yesterday for todays celebration of the 75th anniversary of VE day. Sensibly I change out of my dressing gown, and so am at least dressed when chatting to the three dog walkers who pass by while I am getting my flags to dangle as they should.
I return from the morning dog walk in time for the 11am two-minute silence. 10.58am Is eventful. Our GP surgery calls for Chantal to discuss her broken ankle, Golden Retriever Ellie finds a tray of stagnant muddy water and proceeds to excavate it, and barks furiously when excluded from the kitchen in the utility room. Thus, as Prince Charles and Camilla stand in front of the lone piper, and the canon sounds the beginning of the silence, I am hanging on to a wriggling and smelly puppy, with the sound of a conversation about a swollen and blistered foot coming from an adjacent room. Nevertheless, the dogs and I remain still and silent, if smelly, for two minutes, and subsequently watch as the piper plays, and Charles and Camilla lay their wreaths.
Friend and neighbour, Richard and I arrange a VE day lunch with our respective wives in our respective front gardens, chatting, several houses apart, on Facetime. The word spreads among other neighbours, and by 12.30pm the grass verge along the Lane is lined with tables, flags, food, and various beverages. Music from the 1940’s is played, audible at least some of the tables, as neighbours celebrate the anniversary together, socially distanced by several metres. Cyclists and walkers, both with and without dogs, pass by, smiling and waving and politely crossing the road to maintain distance. Cars slow and hoot and occupants’ wave. It is just as well that cars slow down since any conversation with another household involves standing 2m out into the road. Lunch extends for a couple of hours before we all drift back to our own front doors.
We watch Churchill making his speech announcing the end of hostilities, introduced by contemporary footage from the war, from soldiers to civilians, factory workers to Air Raid Precautions Wardens, and footage from VE Day celebrations in 1945. After the speech, bands from the Household Division regiments play patriotic marches, each bandsman standing at least 2m from any neighbour.
Later I walk the dogs down to Croft, accompanied by the smell of barbeques from houses along the lanes. Sadly, I come across a large pile of beer bottles and cans on Croft Hill, left by a gathering last night. I meet a dog walker from Huncote, who notes that the pub car park is often full on a fine evening, despite the pub being closed. He thinks that people drive from out of the district to gather on The Hill.
Tonight, we watch the Queens Speech, and afterwards neighbours once again gather outside, this time for a rendition of “We’ll Meet Again”. We have all printed the words, and Richard holds a Bluetooth speaker in the air, playing the song for our guidance. We all sing with enthusiasm, but I can’t help feeling that we all peaked during our rendition of Happy Birthday to Captain Tom Moore a week or so ago.
Technically we live in Oaktree House, but sadly the tree had to go.
We now have a thriving Oakstump at the front of the house.
