The North West How We Won the War

September 3rd, 1939, and families all over the country flock to their radios.

'...no such undertaking has been received

'and that consequently this country is at war with Germany.'

In that brief moment, life in our country changed forever.

World War II had begun, but victory wouldn't be assured by military might alone.

The Blitz, evacuation, rationing, the loss of loved ones -

the war on the home front meant that everyone had to do their bit.

From the country's women who took on everything

farming, factory work, even flying Spitfires -

to the nation's auxiliary firemen who worked through the terror of countless air raids.

This is the story of ordinary people doing extraordinary things.

This is How We Won The War.

I'm finishing my trip around the UK in the North West of England.

On today's programme, I'll be down on the farm hearing how an army of women kept the nation fed.

Picking smelly potatoes in November

was a strange way to help the war effort, but it did.

Discovering how feathered friends kept our airmen safe.

Winkie getting back to Scotland was enough for that crew to be rescued.

And finding out how entertainers kept up the morale of both troops and workers.

Dean wanted to make sure that every service man and woman and in the end every civilian

had a chance to be entertained,

had a chance to put some of the black moments behind them.

The North West is home to both bustling industrial cities and lush rural landscapes.

A mixture of factories and farms in this region were to prove vital in our race to victory.

My first stop today is deep in the heart of the Cheshire countryside.

I'm keen to learn more about an army

that endured often appalling conditions

and long periods away from home and loved ones.

An army that fought its battles here, on English soil.

A Land Army.

In 1939, as war broke out, Britain was importing up to 70% of its food.

With Nazi U-Boats running a deadly campaign against supply ships,

the Government had to do something to stop the nation starving.

A work force established in World War I would be resurrected

and some of them would work here at Tatton Park in Knutsford.

Margaret Clark has a family connection with the Women's Land Army, formed in June 1939.

Now Margaret, you had three aunts who were Land Girls, didn't you?

Yes, that's right, yes.

So you must have learnt quite a lot about life at the time and what was involved?

Yes, well, they always said how lovely it was, you know?

And how different it was from being girls in Liverpool

to go suddenly into the country really.

Many, like Margaret's aunts, would come from towns and cities.

They'd be unfamiliar with country ways.

Recruitment posters showed smiling women in glorious sunshine,

but the reality often proved a shock to the system.

'And although a picture of farming may look like a holiday,

'believe me, it's one of the toughest war jobs there is,

'calling for really hard and skilful work, all the year round.'

There was one girl that came that my Auntie Mollie said she never did anything without her gloves on!

Even picking strawberries, she kept her gloves on!

The volunteers would work the land for around 48 hours a week,

doing everything from milking cows to harvesting crops.

Joy Pinder was 20 when she joined the Land Army.

I was young.

I was patriotic and you know, get out and do something

and the Land Army was what I wanted to do.

Given basic training in agricultural skills, women also received

a manual to help them adapt to life in the countryside.

But nothing could have prepared Joy for her first job as a Land Girl

picking potatoes in a wind-swept November.

It was back-breaking.

But the worst part about it,

there were piles and piles of rotting potatoes

that we had to sort out and it was a horrible job.

Then there were the farm animals to get to grips with.

There was just this large horse and myself and a harrow.

And it wouldn't go. And I felt lost.

I thought, "There's this young lass, in a field and not a soul in sight and a stubborn horse!"

But you just got on with it.

In 1941, as more men left agriculture to fight on the front,

conscription to the Land Army was introduced.

By 1943, some 80,000 women were digging and ploughing in fields throughout Britain.

Living arrangements were basic and homesickness was common,

but if you were lucky, farmers would ensure the girls had some brighter moments.

They would supply home-made cider which was quite a hoot really,

but there were these stone circles

that they chomped up and down the apples and made their own cider.

Which was good, it was very acceptable.

But the only thing was, the sheep used it as a toilet as well.

So that was all mixed up with the gorgeous cider we had.

Throughout the War, the Land Girls ensured the nation had enough food to survive.

And some would gain recognition.

'800 girls had marched through the city and now all who had done more than six years' service

'received special armbands from the Queen.'

But it would take until 2008 for the army of 250,000 women to finally receive full acknowledgement,

when the Government awarded them an official badge and certificate.

I think without them, we'd have starved. Simple as that, really.

Picking smelly potatoes in November

was a strange way to help the war effort, but it did.

I would have done the same thing all over again.

The end of the War didn't mean the end of work.

Many Land Girls continued to serve for another five years,

until the Land Army itself was disbanded in 1950.

Like so many other wartime occupations, they went about their task with a typical resolve

and purpose that we should never lose sight of.

COCKEREL CROWS

In bolstering the numbers of Land Girls or troops, conscription was vital to our war effort,

as the Government called on the country's people to do their bit.

One enlisted group would face extreme danger.

Often working behind enemy lines, they'd have to cover vast distances,

at speeds of around 60mph, while battling electrical storms.

Their missions would be carried out on a wing and a prayer.

Britain had used pigeons in World War I.

But while the Germans had maintained their fleet of birds during peacetime,

our Government had disbanded its flock.

Fanciers across the country would help Britain build a new troop of birds from scratch.

Peter Bryant's an expert on pigeons' wartime role.

Pigeons were donated by really

all types of people from right across the class spectrums -

from lords and ladies to

Fred Bloggs with a small loft at the bottom of his garden.

Over 250,000 donated birds would soon be flying under the auspices of the National Pigeon Service.

But that flying wouldn't always be under their own steam.

Every World War II bomber aircraft and reconnaissance aircraft that left our shores carried two pigeons.

If the aircraft then had to ditch into the sea, a message could be attached to its leg

and hopefully the pigeon would get back to its base

with the location so search and rescue could be sent out.

In February 1942, when an RAF Beaufort Bomber ditched in the North Sea,

the crew were forced to fall back on their feathered saviour.

Pigeon Winkie was their only hope.

As the crew struggled in freezing water,

Winkie flew over 120 miles to her home in Broughty Ferry near Dundee.

She arrived exhausted, but her owner alerted the RAF.

Winkie getting back to Scotland was enough for that crew to be rescued.

They held a dinner for Winkie in the officers' mess that night and Winkie attended.

Winkie had saved four servicemen's lives

and birds like her saved thousands more during the War.

But pigeons weren't just flying on board our aircraft.

With their natural homing ability, they were perfect for getting

important intelligence back to Britain.

The message would be written here, torn off,

and one of those would be put on the spool of the message carrier and put on the pigeon's leg.

And off the pigeon goes back to Blighty.

Often the birds would be parachuted into occupied territory,

where resistance fighters would use them to send key messages back to Britain.

Now this is an actual World War II parachute,

it's about the size of a lady's umbrella.

As you can see, the parachute cord and a hessian sort of strap here

and the pigeon container would actually fit in here.

In three separate missions, one pigeon, Commando, brought back invaluable intelligence

revealing the location of German troops, industrial sites and injured Allied soldiers.

To ensure the pigeons had a safe passage home, birds of prey were culled along our coastlines,

but the brave birds bringing messages back to base faced other dangers.

The Germans attempted to shoot the pigeons out of the sky.

They also had a hawk unit, so they were actually using

birds of prey to take pigeons out of the sky as well.

If pigeons arrived home injured, demand for their services meant

they'd be simply be patched up and sent off on another mission.

After the War, Dickin Medals were awarded to animals

who'd shown courage and bravery in their war time service.

32 went to pigeons, including Winkie and Commando.

They really did make a major contribution to Britain's war effort.

Absolutely fantastic contribution. Very much undersung.

Two Lancashire-born entertainers,

George Formby and Gracie Fields, to many, embodied

the best of the North West a rich mixture of saucy humour and hard work.

They were two skills that one organisation in particular would make very good use of

as it took on one of the toughest challenges of the war keeping up morale.

In 1939, the Government recognised our troops would need a distraction from the horrors of war.

Theatre and film producer Basil Dean worked with others to come up with a morale-boosting solution

the Entertainments National Service Association.

Alan Grace has researched the ENSA story.

Dean wanted to make sure that every service man and woman and in the end every civilian

had a chance to be entertained,

had a chance to put some of the black moments behind them.

ENSA's first show was staged in Surrey,

but soon the era's biggest stars

like Tommy Trinder and Gracie Fields -

were treading the boards further afield

to sprinkle some showbiz glamour over our tired troops.

'This is our second ENSA concert today.

'We've already played to 3,000 people

and here, somewhere I mustn't mention,

'is a wonderful audience waiting for the most wonderful and delightful

woman that's ever stepped,

'Miss Gracie Fields - and here she is.'

This is a most unusual recording,

because it's Gracie Fields in November 1939, in France.

# You're the whole world #

# The whole world to me! #

What it shows is not only Gracie at her best,

but the reaction of the men who'd travelled quite some distance

to come and hear her sing.

Top talent was proving wildly popular, but impresario Basil

worried that they weren't to everyone's tastes.

There were people who loved drama,

there were people who loved opera, or ballet or classical music

and so he pushed forward the case there should be

a possibility to bring these shows into the equation.

One recruit that satisfied the aim of widening ENSA's appeal

was cellist Pauline Leighton.

Like the majority of ENSA's casts,

Pauline wasn't a celebrity, but a talented civilian.

She signed up for ENSA in 1941 as part of a classical quartet.

They'd never had an all-girls little group before.

They'd had a comedian, a squeezebox, a singer

and a pianist, or something or a conjurer or something,

but never a group like ours, so we were rather unique when we started.

Pauline and her colleagues were soon flown off

to far-flung battle hot spots like Algiers,

sharing the bill with an eclectic assortment of artistes.

Tommy Trinder kept coming on when he shouldn't.

I was used as a stooge.

And he said, "My aunt used to play the cello,

"but she was a lady - she played it side-saddle!"

Which made them laugh.

ENSA's entertainers were kept busy right around the world.

In one month alone, the organisation brought up the curtain on 8,500 shows.

And those shows weren't just limited to the stage -

comedian Stainless Stephen went AWOL from a show in the Far East.

A report came back from the front line, "We've got a chap here,

"who's an entertainer, who's hopping from foxhole to foxhole

"to put on a little entertainment for the boys in the foxhole."

But then, he made what could have been a fatal mistake.

He saw some more troops in the distance. He was just about to get up and go across,

and he was pulled back because they were Japanese troops.

So he was prepared to get up close to where it hurt,

and you'll find this time and time again with the ENSA parties.

Danger wasn't all ENSA performers had to endure.

Camp conditions were about as far as you could get

from the luxuries of backstage dressing rooms back home.

There were stories of rats running across stages,

rats running across the feet of the audience.

Stories of cockroaches everywhere, of electricity that didn't work,

of having to put your make-up on by starlight or moonlight

because there was no electricity.

Despite the conditions, ENSA was working magic,

keeping up morale amongst our battle-weary troops.

Now Basil Dean turned his attention to raising the spirits

of wartime factory workers.

What Dean wanted to do was give them something, even if it was only

for half an hour, to take their minds away from the tragedies

which were happening overseas, and just give them a little boost.

Soon, ENSA performers were unpacking instruments

in factory canteens across the country.

While shift workers ate their main hot meal,

at midday and midnight, performers like Pauline put on a show.

It was amazing, the atmosphere,

because they hurried over getting their meals, and they were as quiet

as anything when we were playing. The applause was incredible.

APPLAUSE AND CHEERING

But would Basil's idea work today?

This BAE Systems facility in Lancashire builds advanced aircraft

like the Eurofighter Typhoon.

But 70 years ago, Hampden

and Halifax bombers were flying from factories on this very site.

'It's precisely the kind of place that would have

'welcomed entertainers like this String Quartet.'

Well, ladies and gentlemen, thank you very much for letting us

interrupt your hard-earned lunch.

We'd like to take you back to the 1940s,

and your very own ENSA performance.

MUSIC: "Hungarian Dance No. 5" by Johannes Brahms

I thought it was very different from what we normally hear at dinner time,

coming in to the canteen, but, yeah, very impressive.

To come out and get something like that in your dinner hour for five

or 15 minutes or so, excellent, great. Great, great thing to do.

ENSA events created light moments

amongst the darkness of war for our troops and workers.

And we decided we should do something special for Pauline

to repay her efforts in the war years.

MUSIC: "Cello Suite No.1" by Johann Sebastian Bach

-Bravo! Well done!

-APPLAUSE

From September, 1939 to March, 1946,

ENSA staged a staggering 2½ million live or film-based shows,

reaching 300 million people.

It was an organisation sometimes stretched,

leading to claims its initials really stood for "Every Night Something Awful",

but the effect the men and women of ENSA casts across the world

had on our morale is incalculable.

There was one piece of news everyone in Britain wanted to hear

throughout the war, an announcement that would change everything.

John Greenwood, from Manchester, recorded his wait for the news

as part of his contribution to the Mass Observation project.

A collection of almost 300,000 pages of personal diaries,

like John's, are held at the University of Sussex.

Wednesday, May 2nd, 1945.

The news this morning is very full of Hitler's death.

People are not apparently convinced.

Quite a number of people hope it's true, but require further evidence.

Monday, 7th May.

Excitement grew more and more. Then the evening news came in, and there

it was in black and white, "Germans Sign Unconditional Surrender Terms".

"War in Europe Ended".

People were putting out flags and buntings.

60% of the Jacks were upside down.

Soon after, Stan rang up asking how did I interpret the news?

I said I took that tomorrow and the day afterwards were public holidays.

He thought that the affair was falling rather flat,

and people did not understand what to do.

I said, I, at any rate, understood it to be a holiday.

I'm finishing my journey in Liverpool.

The city's strategic position on Britain's west coast made it

one of the most important ports in the country.

So when victory in Europe was finally declared,

as you can imagine, the people of this city embraced it warmly.

By May of 1945, Liverpool was a beaten-up city,

but it wasn't a beaten one.

It had suffered greatly in the war, both in casualties

and property damage.

It was harsh, it was difficult.

Morale was not low, but it had taken a serious battering.

On the afternoon of the 7th of May, 1945,

Germany's unconditional surrender was signed.

Later that day, the BBC interrupted normal programming for a short statement.

BELL TOLLS

ANNOUNCER: This is the BBC Home Service.

We're interrupting programmes to make the following announcement.

It is understood that in accordance with

arrangements between the three great powers, an official announcement

will be broadcast by the Prime Minister at 3 o'clock tomorrow.

Six years of bloodshed, which had seen nearly half a million

British lives lost, had finally come to an end.

Loved ones would soon be home.

The country would be free from the dark nights of blackouts and the constant threat of bombing.

Liverpudlians breathed a collective sigh of relief

and flocked to St George's Hall for a celebration like no other.

We walked into Oxford Street. Millions of people were just

walking down and knowing that they were going to St George's Hall.

And the next thing, the crowds are coming down. A man comes along,

he's got a frying pan with a sausage still stuck in the fat, banging it with a spoon!

-HE LAUGHS

-This is God's truth.

And we went down there and the

excitement was just wonderful.

People danced with somebody else,

you'd turn round to somebody else, people were singing,

other people were banging things. It was just wonderful.

And the ships' sirens were going, and hooters were going.

It was just euphoria, it really was.

I do remember the Army,

the boys from the hospital

walking down from Broad Green,

and we had as much food

as we could lay our hands on, and miraculously, some did have drink.

But we had a little fire,

and the most magnificent sight of all was darkness came,

and everybody lit their lights, and opened the windows.

People were on windowsills, people were on top of buildings.

The police were letting people do pretty much what they liked,

as long as there was no damage incurred.

It was...

spontaneous singing breaking out, cheers breaking out.

The next day, VE Day, the Prime Minister, Winston Churchill,

took to the airwaves to address a hushed nation.

We may allow ourselves a brief period of rejoicing.

But let us not forget for a moment the toils and efforts that lie ahead.

Japan, with all her treachery and greed, remains un-subdued.

We must now devote all our strength

and resources to the completion of our task,

both at home and abroad.

Advance Britannia! CHEERING AND APPLAUSE

Churchill's broadcast was met with spontaneous applause.

VE Day saw outbreaks of complete elation and total celebration.

War-weary Britain was finally getting a taste of victory.

And, as the stories we've heard throughout this series demonstrate,

that victory had been achieved by the efforts

and sacrifices of individuals all over the country.

The shrapnel came through the park and went through my back.

He said he thought he was going to lose me,

and I didn't think I would live myself, so I prepared myself to die.

They had real steel and grit, and something that did set them aside.

I think they really were "The Few".

-I'm very proud of him.

-SHE SOBS

Let us remember before God, and commend to his sure keeping,

Reginald and all those who died for their country in war.

She went onto the bridge which goes over the platforms,

and there's a huge pile of rubble and somebody said, "I'm sorry,

"I'm afraid Billy's under there."

She'd had a telegram saying he'd been killed in action.

And that's how we heard it.

That was the worst day of evacuation.

They had the skills, but more than that, they were rescuing

their own neighbours, their own friends, their own community.

It seemed impossible at the time...

..but, you know,

we succeeded and we showed the men a thing or two.

But of all the astonishing stories of sacrifice and determination

I've heard during this journey,

it's the memories of VE Day that mean so much.

For those actually there, VE Day marked the beginning of the end.

It was a day unlike any other and one they'll never forget.

The great day came, VE Day, Victory in Europe.

And I don't think I would have wanted to be anywhere else

but in London on that day.

It was fantastic - the crowds, the cheering, the flags.

We just went into this...

magic city that was alive.

And I've never seen so many people, anywhere.

And everyone was laughing

and doing the Lambeth Walk all along,

and plenty of drinks going along, and people who'd got them

were sharing them with others.

And there was bottles being passed. "Have a drink, love,"

"You deserve it, love."

"Will we?" "Yes, come on, we're off duty now."

SHE LAUGHS

We were singing songs and shouting,

and just generally tremendous excitement, really.

And then, eventually, gradually, we all worked our way down to the beach,

and I regret to say we burnt the deckchairs!

SHE LAUGHS

We had a great big singsong, and we walked along to Downing Street,

cos we heard Churchill was there, and waiting till he came out,

and then a group of us were quite near his car, so when he got in,

we clambered on the back, and we had a ride down to Buckingham Palace.

I managed to get right to the front...

..of where the railings are, and so,

all the shouting and cheering, "We want the King! We want the King!"

Flags were flying and the Royal Family all came out on the balcony,

and you stood there, and cheered until they came out again.

And you felt proud to be British.

CHEERING AND APPLAUSE

The King stepped back and brought out Churchill.

And the crowd went mad.

We were selected to illuminate St Paul's Cathedral on VE night.

And we never, ever thought that the picture that has been famous since...

we were part of it, that night.